While Hubs is Away...

Every now and then, Hubs leaves me in order to conduct business elsewhere in the United States.  This is never a good thing for me because, let's face it, I need to constantly entertain and be entertained (hence this blog).  You can only have so many conversations with yourself before you ultimately become bored and self-hating.  I am no exception to this.  Basically, when he's not around, I'm a jerk; I don't know how else to put it.  I'm mopey and pathetic, and sometimes I forget to do things like shower and wear deodorant.  And shaving my legs?  HA.  Not happening.  I mean, really, why bother? 


So, after being personable for the work day, I would come home, attempt to do some work, pretend to clean, and then check my e-mail every thirty-to-forty seconds in the hopes that someone, anyone, had e-mailed me.  I feel like after last week, I forged a strong relationship with Sanji from Apple, to whom I wrote several e-mails about my iTunes account.  After the first e-mail, I began to open up to Sanji about my personal life.  By the end of our e-mail affair, Sanji knew basically my whole life story.  In fact, he e-mailed me just the other day to say "What's up?"  Now THAT is customer service.
I noticed that it didn't take me long to find myself in a routine while I was all by my lonesome.  I would come home, set the rattlesnake traps and spray the house down with spider spray, and then settle in for the evening.  I suppose normal people would have begun planning dinner, but not me.  No, I decided that since I would only be cooking for myself, I couldn't be bothered.  I mostly survived on Wheat Thins and some old slices of American cheese that I found in the back of the fridge.  The vodka was great at keeping me hydrated.  All in all, I was proud of myself for even remembering to eat at all.  Clearly, I am a grown up now.

But I guess the worst part about Hubs being away is all of the hours of reality television I end up watching while he's gone.  By the time he comes back, he usually has to talk to me for several hours before I start to sound like myself again.  To prove my point, here is an excerpt of a conversation we had upon his return:

Hubs: I'm so happy to see you!  How are you?

DB: I have a Botox appointment at four.  Will you drive me?

DB: Botox? Is it at the gym?

DB: Do you like my mani/pedi?  I wasn't sure if I should have chosen the coral or hot pink.  Did I make the right choice?

Hubs: What are you talking about?

DB: Do you think Kim is prettier than me?

Hubs: Kim who?

DB: I think Kendra and I would be bffs in real life, don't you?

Hubs: DB, you need to stop.  Give me the remote.

DB: I can't!  Chelsea's on in five minutes!  We'll talk later.

Hubs: You are up way too late.  You have work in the morning.  I think you should just go to bed.

DB: Duh, whatever.  I'm a trust fund baby, Hubs.  I don't have to work.

Hubs: You don't have a trust fund, DB.  You are not rich.

DB: Whatevs!  I'll show you the prenup I made you sign.  Can you believe I was arrested for coke in Vegas??  The nerve of those people!

Hubs: DB, you are not Paris Hilton.  Do you even know who I am?

And it's usually around this point where I pass out and wake up in the morning with little recollection of our conversation.  It's basically a miracle I remembered this one at all.

Hubs is now preparing for yet another business trip in the next few weeks, which means I will once again be left alone to fend for myself.  I can only imagine the havoc I will wreak, especially with the new season of Keeping Up with the Kardashians just starting.

I've been told on more than one occasion that Kim K. and I could be sisters.

You know, if Kim was a blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl from a middle class family.

Blogging is Ruining My Personal Life.

If you are a loyal and avid reader of Daydream Believer, you may remember the post where I discussed all of the things my husband does that drive me crazy.  Hubs was away on business when I posted it, and since I really didn't think he read my blog unless I demanded it while stomping my feet on the floor and screaming like I'm in the new Wes Craven asked him to, I figured I'd be safe in posting it.  Oh, how wrong I was.  Apparently he does read my blog sometimes. 

Hooray!

Actually, if you want to know something really cute, I usually make Hubs proofread my posts.  I judge whether or not they're worthy of being published by the amount of times he laughs.

*Cue awwwwws now*.

Ok, knock it off.

So I end up getting an e-mail from him saying something along the lines of "I cannot believe you talked about my gas-passing on the blog."  Oh, really, Hubs?  Believe it.  And guess what?  I just mentioned it again.  You should just be happy that I didn't mention **** **********.  I hope he reads this and totally knows to what I'm referring.  I think he probably will.  And I hope he squirms!

NOTHING IS SAFE FROM MY BLOG, HUBS!!

NOTHING!

Ok, that's not true.  Some things are too sacred/disgusting/political to post on here.

Oh, who am I kidding??  I'm the girl who posted about getting her period in the middle of her vacation and marching all around Chicago looking for a damn feminine product dispenser.

Anywho.

He seems to be over it now, but things were pretty tense between us for a few seconds hours.

My blog has not only affected my marriage, but it's also causing a strain between me and my dear sister. 

Several weeks ago, my sis sent a very threatening e-mail about how she was "catching up" on my blog and just read my post about The Real Housewives of Whatever State They're Now In.  She told me my post was filled with several inaccuracies, but she "couldn't remember" what they were.

Oh, really, sis?  Well, how about helping a sister (literally!) out and telling me what they were so I could fix them?  Oh, and how about also giving me the benefit of the doubt because I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE AN EXPERT AND I CLEARLY STATED IN THE POST THAT IT WAS MY FIRST TIME WATCHING??!!!

I think she may have been offended by how offended I was.  Oh well, at least we're family.

Last week was a rough week for a number of reasons, so I didn't post anything on Thursday.

As soon as I pulled into the school parking lot, my phone buzzed: I had received an e-mail from my maitron of honor, my bff, my loving and adoring OLDER (hehehehe) sister.  It was labeled "Addiction", and inside it simply said, "WHERE IS YOUR BLOG??  I'M ADDICTED."

Now, I suppose I should be flattered that my sis likes my blog so much, but she knows me better than to demand anything of me before 8 a.m. and my three sacred cups of coffee.  And she's not even a "follower", she's just a reader, so I don't know why she thinks she has VIP privileges just because we're fam.

And then I told her why I didn't have time to blog and she felt badly, which made me feel better.

Honestly, though, what's next?  How many more family members am I going to offend?  My grandmother will probably call me up next week and wonder why she hasn't been featured on it yet, and she doesn't even know how to turn a computer on!

So I guess the moral of the story is that everyone's a critic.

Even your sister.

:-)

Week Three of the Bachelor Pad: Anyone have any Prozac?

I don't even know if I can blog about last night's Bachelor Pad.  I am still revolted by all of the freaking tongue action I was forced to endure.  What's worse is that I had to watch it with Hubs.  That sounds terrible, I know, but I was seriously so embarrassed that I actually watch and write about this filth. Hubs also had this to say two minutes in: "This is television at its absolute worst.  I'd rather be watching C-Span." C-Span, well, that's a bit too smart for me, but I'd totally rather be watching E! News.  Ok, let's give this a whirl, kids.

The good times start rolling hella early last night.  Within the first several minutes, the immunity challenge was named: it was a kissing contest!!  YAY!!!  Everyone got to make out and dry hump each other!!  Oh, wait.  They've already done that. Naked. 

Yawn.

Oh, I should let you know that the girl from Jake's season who dressed up as a flight attendant for ole Jakey-poo decided that she couldn't go through with the challenge because she was a high school teacher and she wanted her students to respect her.  Ok, biotch.  You're on a show called BACHELOR PAD.  If you still have a job after this, that's disgusting.  And if you're able to get a job after this, that's disgusting, too.  And Gia had a nervous breakdown and refused to kiss any of the guys because she has a boyfriend waiting for her at home.  After realizing she was gonna lose the challenge, she backed out ungracefully, and went in the back to find a tissue and do a line of coke.  What's ironic is that later in the epi, she willingly gets in bed with Wes and goes on and on about how he's like Shakespeare.  She then takes that back and says he's actually better than Shakespeare because he's better and cuter.

You f-ing ho!  You just insulted the Bard.  That just earned you a spot in Hell, biotch.  See you there.

Gia also got all in Nikki's grill over being the person who sent Craig home last week.  She even says, "What good is a girl who doesn't stand by her word?" or something even less eloquent than what I just paraphrased.  Um, how easily she forgets that she gave Craig her word last week that she would give him the rose, and then she goes and gives it to her friend Wes. 

Oh, Gia.  You are so stupid.  Thank you for being the confidence booster I needed last night.

So, the girls all got to get kissed by the guys, and then the girls all got to kiss the guys.  I thought the guy kisses were relatively subdued, but of course, leave it to the girls to be pig dogs.  What, exactly, a pig dog is, I don't know....but after last night, it must look something like this:

                                                          Natalie, or, Pig Dog, if you will.

Both Natalie and Elizabeth kissed those men as if they had lost their favorite earrings in their mouths and they could only use their tongues to get it out.  Apparently, Elizabeth also liked to bite the men whilst kissing.  I decided to try that with Hubs, but I ended up making him bleed all over our light-colored couch and we stopped speaking for a couple of minutes.

Mostly because he was bleeding profusely from his upper lip.

Oopsie.

Way to go, Natalie and Elizabeth, the guys chose Peyton.  Guess you're not as great as you thought you were, eh?

I can't remember the guy the girls chose.  I mean, I can see him, but I have no idea what his name is.  Dan, maybe?  Who cares.  Anyway, "Dan" was able to choose three girls to take to Vegas. He chose some girl, some other girl, and Natalie.  The first place they frolic to is a topless swimming area.  No, folks, I did not accidentally sit on the remote and turn the channel to Playboy; this was actually on ABC.  Anyway, the two nameless girls respected themselves enough to keep their tops on, but Natalie was all about stripping down for "Dan".  Her strategy worked, because "Dan" ended up giving her the immunity rose.

Peyton chose three guys: Jesse, Kovacs, and Kypton.  I liked that she chose them because Tenley and Elizabeth were pissed and tears were shed.  Unfortunately, she chose Jesse to have sex with take back to the fantasy suite with her.

I don't really remember what happened from that point until the rose ceremony because I was busy drinking scotch (not even kidding) and singing the Dixie Chicks to Hubs. 

I stopped dreaming about becoming the next American Idol long enough to see that poor Weatherman got voted off, and so did Gia.  It was kind of a surprise with Gia because she and Elizabeth actually tied.  I would have given my left nut ovary to get Elizabeth voted out of that place.  She is so nasty and conniving and totally think she's better than everyone.  I just want to push her and that smooshy face.

Oh, and Melissa Rycroft?  Still hate her.  I've decided she's the Vanna White of Bachelor Pad.  Also, she came out wearing an ostrich to the rose ceremony. How dare you, Melissa.  The ostrich is the official bird of Australia.  Way to offend an entire CONTINENT, you jerk. 

Ok, I totally made that part up, but she WAS wearing a dead bird on her chest.

Until next week, friends, let's try to do a lot of quality reading and help the environment out a little, ok?  I think I may have had my fill of this rubbish.

Well, for six days, that is.

Week Two.

Before I get started on my review of Monday night's episode of The Bachelor Pad, can I please just ask what the HELL Chris B. Harrison was wearing at the rose ceremony??  Um, a checkered black and white shirt paired with a purple polka dot tie DOES NOT MATCH.

Not even in the alternate universe we call The Bachelor Pad, you d.b.  Just because you are the king of reality tv smut, Chris B., does not mean you no longer have to adhere to the rules of basic fashion.  Who do you think you are, Carrie Bradshaw?  I think not!

Ok, on with the review.

Tenley cried throughout the entire show.  Wow, what a surprise.  She cried first when she was in the pie-eating contest.  Now, Tenley, dear, I know you're not used to eating, but honey, give it a shot.  You won't gain five pounds from eating a whole pie.  Trust me, I'm talking from personal experience. 

Ok, it was a pizza pie, but whatever.

So the girls went against the girls and the guys went against the guys in the immunity challenge.  The girls were alternating barfing into a trash can whilst eating their pies, but somwhow, Gia persevered and gagged her whole pie down.  Tenley cried when she placed second because now those calories were even emptier than before.  Boo hoo, Tenley-poo!  No worries, lass!  I'm sure you'll dance them all off in no time!

The guys were up next.  Even they had trouble swallowing all of those berries, and Tenley stood in back of her man (can't remember which one she's in love with this week) yelling, "Swallow!  Swallow!"  Folks, this show is tearing gender barriers DOWN!

And I love it!

Surprise numero uno of the evening: Weatherman wins the pie-eating contest!  Who knew he was so talented?

Gia pulls Weatherman aside and starts to tell him about the two sides that are becoming more and more evident as the hours tick by.  This show, according to Gia, is about the "cool kids" and the "outsiders".  Now, I'd like to add that the alleged "cool kids" on this show are the same kids who were cool in high school.  The only difference is that now they are alcoholics who are of age.  The cool kids are made up of the following people, give or take a few: Elizabeth, Kovacs, Tenley, Natalie, and some other people who magically appeared in this episode. The outsiders are the ones who have yet to hook up with anyone: Gia, Weatherman, Gwen, and some other people whose names have escaped me, probably because I lost 50 IQ points just watching this trash.

I would also like to add that I watched a mini-Kendra marathon on E! right before the show, which did not help my intelligence at all.

Anyway.

So Gia says she'll give Craig her rose, and tells Weatherman that he should give Gwen his rose.  Weatherman is all about deflowering himself to Gwen, and divulges to the camera that he can actually see himself in an actual relationship with Gwen.  After she gladly accepts his rose, Gwen confesses to the camera that she knows Weatherman has a crush on her but there is no way anything is going to happen.  Still, she happily skips along her merry way knowing her geriatric booty is safe for yet another week.

Gia has a harder time living up to her end of the deal, though.  Wes pours his blackened heart out to her, and Gia falls for it.  Even after she promises Craig that he's getting the rose, she ends up "following her heart" and giving the rose to Wes, probably in more ways than one, if ya know what I mean.

*Cue porn music now.*

So now that Gia is thinking with her va-jj instead of her head, the outsiders are screwed.  Gia, however, does not see it that way and is convinced that good will triumph over evil.

What an amateur. 

A few of the girls make out with and dry hump some of the guys, and the tension starts to build in the mansion that Chris B. Harrison built.

Elizabeth calls Tenley out on something insulting she had said earlier, and naturally, Tenley starts to blubber and cry about how she never meant to hurt anyone's feelings.

Of course you didn't, Miss Innocent.  And to think I actually felt sorry for you when Jake broke your little dancer's heart.  You are not the sweet, God-loving Christian you want America to believe you are, Tenner.  And btw, I hope you read this and it makes you cry, you big cry baby.

So the votes are tallied and the tribes vote off this week's losers.  Naturally, since Gia was a major traitor, the gals vote off Craig.  For whatev reason, everyone in the house is convinced that Jessie has somehow gone against everyone, and so she gets this week's axe for the lay-days.

Towards the end of the epsiode, two people I've never seen before had a heart-to-heart.  I seriously don't know where these people came from, but I guess I'll learn more about them in upcoming episodes since they are now an integral part of the show.

The highlight of the evening was when stupid Elizabeth, my arch-nemesis, said about herself, "I'm just a dumb smart girl.  What was I thinking?" 

Indeed, Elizabeth.  You certainly are an oxymoron.

And I emphasize moron.

So now that this week's episode has aired, I find myself on the edge of my seat as I wait for the next one to air.

And now if you'll all excuse me, I have to go read a few chapters of Tolstoy in order to once again feel like a contributing member of this very bleak and dull society in which we live.

Amen.

Operating on Random.

Have a great weekend, everyone! If you're looking for a good blog, try this one: http://operatingonrandom.blogspot.com./ TGIF!

3,847.

This is a very telling number in my life right now.  No, it is not the amount of money I"ll make this week (I wish!), nor is it the amount of awesome followers my little blog has (I wish that, too).  No, my dears, this number means something totally different.

Completely different.

A lesser-kind-of-good different.

It is....

THE NUMBER OF TIMES I HAVE FALLEN INTO THE TOILET BECAUSE MY HUSBAND DOES NOT KNOW HOW TO PUT THE TOILET SEAT DOWN.

When we first started cohabitating, we were in the blissful newlywed stage.  Everything we said was cutsie wootsie and "OMG, Ima gonna love you forever, Pookie Pants!"  So the first time I fell in the water, I came out and lovingly joked about it.

But in the wee hours of morning, when I was too tired and blind to see what was going on, I once again fell into the toilet. 

And I had finally had enough.  I began, in my sleepy state, to mumble something about "cutting a bitch" (what the eff does that even mean, and why has the saying overtaken my life?  When the old lady cut me off in front of the flour at the supermarket, I uttered under my breath, "I'ma gonna cut a bitch!" WTF?? Who have I become??).  Hubs just laughed it off, as usual, which did not help things.  At all.  I was enraged!  I couldn't believe it!  And then I fell asleep and forgot about it until it happened AGAIN when I woke up for work.

GAH!

And it really got me thinking about other stuff that's been difficult to get a grip on.
So, here's a list of all of the things that Rick does that bug me:

1.  Leaving the toilet seat up (obvi).
2.  Playing hockey at 10 at night.
3.  Passing gas freely and then giggling about it like he's 4.
4.  Trying to cuddle while I'm reading my book.
5.  Yelling at me to come in the other room and keep him company while I'm trying to actually be productive (you know, like when I'm painting my nails or Tweeting about whether or not Ali and Roberto are still together).
6.  Never getting pimples the size of the moon on his cheek like his wife does (Proactiv does NOT work!  I'm trying to get a lawsuit going against them and Jessica Simpson for all of the lies they told me!).
7.  Judging me for watching quality television programs that make me smarter and wiser (e.g. The Bachelorette and Keeping Up with the Kardashians).

Now, I want to be fair because I love this guy more than anything, so I have spent the majority of my day coming up with things that I do that must bug the crap out of Hubs.  So, before I bid you all adieu until tomorrow, here is the list.

A List of Things I Do that Bug Hubs
1.  Nothing.  There's not one thing I do that could possibly cause stress or strife in my husband's life.  Ever.

Dear God, Please make Hubs conveniently forget to read my blog today.  Love, DB.

The Bachelor Pad: One Hot Mess After Another.

In essence, this show is about man whores and the hoes who love them.  Crass, yes, but that's what this quality television show is, my friends.  Once again, we have everyone's favorite dork, Chris B. Harrison, as our host.  I love how Chris tries to act all cool by saying words like, "bro" and "man".  Give me a break, Chris. You're 527 years old.  Expand your vocabulary a little and enlighten us for once. Chris also introduced his co-host, Melissa Rycroft.  Um, Melissa, in the words of my friend Amanda, I thought you were married and pregnant.  Get off of my tv, girlfriend, because I do not like you.  At all.

There were many familiar faces from this year's season of both The Bachelor and The Bachelorette.  From Jake Boy's season, we have Elizabeth, Tenley, Michelle, Gia, and Jessie.  From Almeister's season, we have Craig, Weatherman, and Jesse.  Craig was the psycho, but oddly enough, I kinda like the dude now.  Weatherman is still a baby and acts like he's four, and Jesse is hot but dumb.  So between the dumbos, whinos, and bimbos, we've got ourselves a show. 

There are a bunch of former castmates who are not only looking for love, but also looking to win the $250,000 prize at the end.  Each week, the women will vote off one man, and the men will vote off one woman.  The producers have decided to go all Survivor on us shmucks by throwing in an immunity rose that is won by doing brainless tasks, like playing a giant game of Twister. Craig won the immunity challenge, and Jessie came in second.  Craig was able to choose three women to go on a date with, so he chose Jessie, Elizabeth (who claims she hates Craig, yet totally flirted with him all night), and Gwen, who was a leftover from season 2.  Hi, Gwen.  Get a life.  It's been like twenty years since you were on the show.  Let's move on, k?  Love you!

Craig was given the opportunity to make a girl immune (it's kinda like in Twilight when a vampire can make a human immortal, I believe), so he chose Jessie.  I found this admirable because she was the runner-up in Twister.  Perhaps Craig isn't such a d.b. after all.  I've been known to be wrong once or twice in my life. 

Elizabeth got all pissed that Craig didn't give her the gift of eternal life, and so now she is plotting his demise.  In addition to that, she is also stalking one of the other Jesses on the show, with whom she's had sexual relations in the past.  According to Elizabeth, they are in love and in a relationship.  According to Jesse, they've hooked up a few times and are not exclusive.  Judging from her actions on both this show and with Jakey-poo, this girl is psychotic and should star in the re-make of Single White Female.

Tenley is still as annoying and as addicted to helium as she was on The Bachelor.  She goes around dancing for people and annoying the crap out of a very important person: me.  She started a rumor that Craig and Michelle hooked up, and Michelle locks her in the bathroom and goes ape shit on her. Tenley starts sobbing hysterically and turns everyone against Michelle.  The scene ends with Tenley smiling demonically when she realizes she has just singlehandedly ruined Michelle's chances of winning this godforsaken show.  I could almost hear the cackling.

And then there was the twisted rose ceremony.  After each guy and girl voted, the results were tallied, and tribal council began.  This is about the time that Hubs got home from the gym (he conveniently timed leaving for said gym as soon as the show started).  He was all huffy and puffy about watching the last fifteen minutes of the show, but I reminded him very sternly that marriage is about sacrifice, and that he needed to take this one for the team.  The team of us, Hubs.  The team of US.

Tenley triumphed, and Michelle was forced to go home.  Juan also left, but who cares?  He provided no drama for me, and so I said goodbye to his bad rubbish.  I really wish Michelle had stuck around for a few epis. She's all sorts of crazy, which I find infinitely entertaining.

I discovered a few things about myself whilst watching last night:

1.  I would be horrible on this show.  I would have no friends, and none of the guys would want me.
2.  I'm ok with that. 

Dating in the Dark was on after that, but I didn't want to corrupt my mind any more than it's already been corrupted.

Also, Hubs wouldn't let me.  He said something about "drawing the line somewhere".  Whatever.

The Good Wife.

Several weeks ago, I reluctantly agreed to attend one of Hubs' dumb and boring incredibly riveting hockey games.  Basically, the boy knows how to pester me until I finally just break down and agree to whatever it is he's whining talking about.  My sister told me on my wedding day to pick my battles, and so I have really tried to stick to that.
I had been to the ice rink one other time to pick him up after a hockey lesson, so I knew that I was going to have to bundle up in order to endure an hour or so in the frigid ice box he calls a hockey rink.  I also remember the entire place smelling of sweaty, dirty, icky boys, so I brought my nose plugs just in case. 

Good thing I did.  The place still smelled of sweaty, dirty, icky boys, but then again, so does Hubs's car.  He made the mistake of leaving his hockey equipment in it for an entire weekend in the dead of summer.  Let's just say that no amount of Yankee Candle car scents is gonna get rid of that ick.

So there I was, all bundled in my hoodie, jeans, and nose plug.  I got a few odd looks when I entered the convenience store beforehand to get a bottled water and my new staple, chewy Sprees, but whatevs, I was being a good little ball and chain and was proud of myself for actually getting off my lazy ass and doing something supporting my main squeeze.

Finally, I got to the rink, nose plug placed snuggly on the smeller, hoodie pocket stuffed with the yumalicious chewy Sprees.  I was good to go.  I was a hockey wife.  In my boredom experience at the game, I imagined that I was at the Stanley Cup finals, cheering my rich, toothless husband on.  My little daydream burst, though, when the puck somehow found a hole in the net thingy and came shooting at me.  In landed to the left of me, and for a nanosecond, I contemplated picking it up and giving it back to the ref, but then I thought better of myself and just continued to eat my chewy Sprees. 

It took me a good half hour just to recognize which hockey dude Hubs was.  This may sound pretty horrible  that I couldn't even pick out my own husband, but they were all dressed alike and were the same size with all of that padding. 

Speaking of padding...this is exactly the reason why I'm struggling getting into this sport.  I'm a girl who can't say no to a man in tight pants--baseball pants, that is, and so all of those damn hockey pads really cramp my style.  Um, hello, you're leaving far too much up to the imagination.  Can you at least show me a little shin, please??  Throw this girl a tibia, for crying out loud!

Once I spotted Hubs, I began clapping and cheering wildly.  I had no idea which goal was even ours, but every time he got the puck, regardless of where he was on the ice, I yelled, "Shoot it, Boo!  Shoot it!"  It wasn't until the second time I shouted, "Hi, Hubs!  I'm watching you!  I love you!" when he raced by that he started gesticulating wildly at me and giving me the universal sign for shut the eff up.  For the sake of my marriage, I decided to cut the shiz.  Momentarily.

This is also when I realized that my hoodie and jeans weren't cutting it.  I was cold, shivering worse than the girl from The Blair Witch Project (except without the snot hanging out of my nose, but I digress).  I Tweeted to my Tweeps that I now knew how Jack felt in Titanic.  "I'll never let go, Jack.  I'll never let go (Shout-out to my girl Kate Winslet--holla!)."

I will give you an even better idea of how cold it was in that place.  You see, Hubs pretty much had to bribe me to go to the hockey game, mostly because it wasn't starting until 9:45 at night.  Usually by 9:45, I'm half blitzed on vodka tonics, so I really didn't like how this was going to cut into getting my drink on.  So I did what any alcoholic person does: I struck a deal with him.  "I will attend this hockey game, Hubs, if and only if we can celebrate with late-night tacos from Taco Bell," I informed him.  "You want a bean burrito at 11 p.m.?" he questioned.  "No," I replied.  "I want a Gordita and a side of nachos at 11 p.m."  How could he argue with that?  And so that is what I was thinking about, that little bundle of faux-Mexican love, when I realized the saliva that had been slipping out my mouth as I daydreamed had frozen on my chin.  Now that is cold!

Wouldn't you know, the hockey gods decided I had been a naughty little minx in my lifetime and forced the game into triple overtime or extra innings or whatever you call it.  Lucky me!  I got to stay in that ice hell for even longer than I had originally anticipated!  Hooray! 

But perhaps it was a lesser kind of good when the other team scored the winning goal and I jumped out of my seat, yelling and screaming, "They won!  They won!  Yo quiero Taco Bell! Yippeeeeeeeee!" 

But you know what?

Losing never tasted so bueno.