For a pretty girlie girl, I like sports. I'll be honest, I don't keep up with any sport. I keep track of a SINGLE team (the Mavs). I can't discuss the finer points of trades or the value of sports' impact on society. I do, however, enjoy games. I enjoy being part of the crowd--being caught up in the moment, yelling some unintelligible phrase at the top of my lungs, and the ever so slight rush of adrenaline.

This week at work I received two tickets to the Stars game on the 26th. I know nothing about hockey...outside of Wayne & Garth enjoyed playing it in the street (Car! game on!). I know the Stars play at the same venue as the Mavs & Mike Madano is supposed to be a big deal & not because he married Willa Ford.

I thought long & hard about who to invite. A list of local guy friends ran through my mind... The decision was obvious. A friend who would be on level ground with me: Maggie. We're equally clueless about hockey. We'll both be overdressed for the occasion. We'll make up things to yell as we pound our fists in the air. Chances are we'll end up discussing some independent film or trafficking rather than know what's going on in the game. It should be fantastic.

If you're an actual hockey fan, I apologize. You probably feel that the tickets are going to waste. I promise I will do some research before I go...and not just watch "The Mighty Ducks." I will try my best to adhere to proper hockey etiquette. I will try to be a fan. I won't distract the real fans. I'll be good...or as good as a sleep deprived, slightly delirious lady can be at a hockey game

a tad delirious

I LOVE what I'm doing at work---words fail at successfully communicating how much I LOVE what I'm getting to do. With the hours at work increasing, my hours of rest/free time/sleep have diminished exponentially. This means I'm off my game. Really off my game--if you thought I was random before, you should have a conversation with me now.

Everything to me is funny today. I'm talking to people, stifling giggles, and being very confused as I have NO IDEA what's making me laugh...which makes me laugh even harder. This, of course, creeps the person out. Then there's damage control--thankfully, I still have enough game left to talk my way out of the awkward situations.

A ridiculous but grand type of mood is dominating the exhaustion. I'm waiting for the moment I pass out. I can see it now: I'm laughing about something or other and BOOM! I'm on the floor, passed out, and possibly drooling. yikes--not too pretty.

Obviously that's worst case scenario--I sincerely doubt anything remotely close to that happens. Chances are I'll finish out the day with a sore throat from laughing and end up going to sleep *hopefully* before midnight.