My Lightning managed to pleasantly surprise me and defeat the Canucks last night, 4-3. I caught the last 15 minutes of the third period, intending only to see how badly my team was losing, and instead watched Brad Richards score again, Ramo make some great saves, and some rare down-and-dirty fighting. The third period alone drew 4 penalties for fighting, 3 for roughing, and 1 for misconduct. (Why does the word “roughing” always make me snicker? It’s such a quaint and old-fashioned way to describe bashing another player in the face.)
My shopping-for-clothes-for-my-new-job adventure yesterday also went surprisingly well: no harrowing scenes in the fitting room, no tearful digging through disorganized racks hunting vainly for pants marked “short” in a world full of women over 5’3″, no storming home empty-handed, declaring the entire lot of women’s clothes designers to be sick, sadistic bastards. I actually (*gasp*) found what I was looking for pretty quickly and had the rest of the morning to shop for books instead. I just started Manchild in the Promised Land. I love to read but haven’t had time to do nearly enough of it lately.
I simply must share one of my finds, a pair of shoes that caught my eye and sang my name insistently, even as I browsed the rest of the store for sensible, practical footwear to project a professional, clean-cut image. Eventually the obdurate clamor led me back to these:
How could a mere mortal resist, I ask? Picture them with a sleek black suit…ahhh…now, see why I couldn’t just abandon these luscious dears at the store?
A few more hours and the kids will be here for the weekend. I feel like I haven’t seen them in ages…oh yes, because I haven’t. I had to work last weekend, when Gary went to see the boys’ basketball games. I’m looking forward to the house being full of laughter, activity, playing, story-telling, snuggling, and even the mandatory ensuing toy hurricane requiring the services of a bulldozer and a demolition crew to clean up.