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October, 2009

Monday, October 26th, 2009

New York (Day 2): Game Day #1 Coyotes@Rangers –Tipping the scale in more ways than one.

Tonight’s Coyotes loss to the New York Rangers was my first ever game at Madison Square Garden, and I am pleased to announce that I have officially tipped the scales in my efforts to visit all the NHL rinks (for games – it doesn’t count if I’m there for another event). MSG marks my sixteenth current NHL rink visited to date! I know that doesn’t seem overly impressive, but you have to remember that several of those rinks I have visited on multiple occasions!

My first MSG experience was decent for the most part. The rink was OK, but the atmosphere was electric minus the guy sitting next to me who was ACTUALLY sleeping. For the warm up, I had met up with a couple Rangers-Coyotes fans that I had met on Long Island for the Coyotes/Islanders match up a.k.a. game #4 of my mystical six game road trip last season. They kept warning me that the building gets really loud and the fans go crazy, but I still wasn’t prepared for the intensity when the Rangers scored their first goal. The Rangers goal song brought back memories of high school and my few seasons spent as a Kitchener Rangers regular. The Kitchener Rangers, once the New York Rangers farm team, use the same goal song (or at least they did back then). I used to love that song! If I squinted my eyes and looked across the barn, I could have been back home at the Kitchener Memorial Auditorium. I swear I could even feel my virginity being threatened all over again, but that may also have had something to do with the fact that the guy sitting on the other side of me was fully trying to pick me up for the entire sixty minutes of regulation.

After the game, I went out in search of the perfect street meat, and by “street meat” I don’t mean a male hooker. We Torontonians are very particular about our street meat. If you can believe it, my friends and I actually have an inventory of suitable hot dog stands around the city. I have been having a nasty craving for one, but unfortunately, my needs have yet to be satisfied, as I saw something shiny down 42nd and decided to go investigate. My operations led me to an insane gelato bar –you should have seen the flavours! The guy working there decided to start handing me samples of every single flavour, and there must have been at least forty. He said it was his mission to get me drunk. They specialized in alcoholic gelato. I ordered up a large helping so I could get three flavours. It was hard to pick only three when they had flavours like Captain Crunch and Cinnamon Toast Crunch, but I finally decided on pumpkin, Nutella and toffee, and, my favourite, Jack Daniels and chocolate brownie (you know how I love my whiskey). After I was given my mountain of gelato, another guy working there asked me if I would “model” it for their “website.” I’m not going to tell you the name of the place because I don’t even want to know what these pictures look like, so I don’t want you looking for them. I’m actually QUITE camera shy. Anyway, they had me display my delicious acquisition in a few different locations in the store, and EVENTUALLY I was free to go.

If the walk back to my hotel wasn’t annoying enough with the mountain of gelato melting faster than I could inhale it, the random marriage proposals every ten feet were enough to irritate the hell out of me. Mostly, I found it irritating because I was trying to eat. I had actually said (before I left) that NYC would be the perfect place to find a husband/this Arizona guy. I could easily live here. Alas, tonight the food was more important! And my scale tipping in the weight department didn’t begin with the gelato, it started earlier today when I met up with a friend for lunch and discovered that one of the loves of my life was on the menu – grilled cheese with bacon. I am quite fond of anything that has both cheese and bacon on it! And, naturally, I had to have some raspberry New York style cheesecake for dessert! Ay yi yi! Oh well, real men are chubby chasers!

Anyway, enough about food. I’m getting hungry! I can’t wait to post this entry, go to sleep, and wake up to my next meal! Tonight at the game, I started to see one of my suspicions materialize before my eyes. I suspected that a change of heart on my decision to leave the Coyotes was coming, and I could feel my heart warming to the idea. I’m not saying I’m back with them or anything like that – they didn’t give me anything to work with tonight. But they still have a few games to try to convince me not to leave. I don’t know, I think part of me felt bad for them tonight. It wasn’t because they had their asses handed to them, I was already feeling this call to nurture in the wee minutes of the warm ups. Weird. I guess we’ll see. The mule still lives, and that’s the main point against them.

Speaking of the game, MSG scored big points with me when they played I Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor by Arctic Monkeys during the game. Arctic Monkeys are one of my never-embark-on-a-road-trip-without bands, and I greatly associate their music with my hockey misadventures. So, I leave you tonight with the above mentioned song. It’s one of my favourites!

Stop making the eyes at me, I’ll stop making the eyes at you. What it is that surprises me is that I don’t really want you to…

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Sunday, October 25th, 2009

New York (Day 1): I’m in Manhattan, trick!

There is an Expedia conspiracy afoot! It seems that I always have a rude awakening a day or two prior to my departure, when my itinerary is emailed to me, and I discover that I have booked yet another ridiculously early flight. A 6AM flight isn’t so bad if it’s local, but my airport of choice is Buffalo Niagara, which means that I’m leaving home between two and three in the morning to ensure that I actually get on that plane.

I knew that I wouldn’t be sleeping Saturday night, so I tried my hardest to sleep in that day. Unfortunately, I couldn’t shake this terrible feeling that I was having about my Coyotes adventure, and I couldn’t sleep past ten no matter how hard I tried. I was tired and worried when I pulled up to the Queenston-Lewiston Bridge. While I waited for the car in front of me to be released, I was fretting about what I was going to say to the border guard. It has been my experience that, according to US Security, single females are not allowed to have an interest in sports. My career as a hockey addict has caused all sorts of drama at the border. Last season, they searched my car twice in one week! However, my experience crossing into the States this time around was (pleasantly) interesting to say the least. Here’s the actual dialogue:

Guard: Where do you live?
Me: Toronto
Guard: Purpose for your business in the States?
Me: Umm *cute voice* hockey games (then I get this standard, “How do you wanna play this?” look on my face).
Guard: Oh, right, of course! I should have known.
Me: *confused by this response*
Guard: Aren’t you some sort of reporter?
Me: Uhh…I have a website…
Guard: Yeah, and a book, right?
Me: Yes…have I been to you before?
(Now, I’m asking the questions, eh?)
Guard: Yes, it must have been close to a year ago now. You liked the Flyers. Why’d you switch teams to Phoenix?
Me: Well, it’s kind of a long story…
Guard: *Rests his head in his hands and leans out the window waiting for me to spill it*
Me: *quickly tries to think of the shortest and least crazy way to explain the story* Well, these psychics told me that I’m supposed to be with some guy who’s connected to Arizona, but I knew I wouldn’t go there unless it was for hockey. So, when the Flyers made a trade there in March, I took it as the *spirit fingers* sign that I was supposed to switch teams. Still haven’t found the guy, though.
Guard: So, are you going ALL the way to Phoenix? (Notice he’s just asking me this now.)
Me: No, I’m going to New York and St. Louis, they are playing there this week!
Guard: Oh, really? That will be fun. Have a safe trip!

Am I kind of a big deal in Buffalo? I thought this encounter was even weirder than the guy who knew who I was at the Coyotes/Sabres game two weeks ago!

I arrived at the airport about twenty minutes later and got a killer parking spot. This is Lynx’s first overnight stay at Buffalo Niagara, and a mother worries. I seriously walked back to the car four times to make sure he was safe and locked up. Anyway, after I was checked in and had devoured a delicious greasy breakfast sandwich, we all received word that our flight was delayed an hour because the crew members were resting. Great. BNIA is one of the worst airports for killing time. There’s NOTHING to do, and I was starting to get tired. What was worse was that I couldn’t even catch a quick nap on the plane because I was sitting next to one of those smelly types that want to blurt random shit to you the whole way there – SHUUUUUUUT UPPPPPPPPPPPP!

The plane landed at 8AM and I was barely alive. I was exhausted from lack of sleep and just wanted to check in to my hotel and pass out for a few hours. Surprise! My room wasn’t going to be ready until 3PM! I didn’t know how I was going to stick it out until then. I stumbled around Fifth Avenue like a cracked out former child star visiting from Hollywood’s, Where Are They Now? list – big sunglasses, the works.

I decided to kill some time and visit the St. Jude shrine at St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Two years ago, I came to Manhattan for the first time with my mom for her birthday. I had planned the trip to take her to the Meatloaf concert at MSG, but come game time, we found out the fat man was sick and cancelled the show! Anyway, we had visited St. Pat’s, and that was really the first time I had heard the story of St. Jude, so I figured I should go back, light a candle, visit the gift shop, all that good stuff. I stayed for the noon mass as well, and, boy, was that ever a mistake. If you’re tired, don’t expect church to perk you up. I think I actually did a head bob at one time – eek!

The weirdest moment happened when a woman visiting from Arkansas came over to ask me some details about the Cathedral. I was waiting for the 10:15 mass to clear out so I could go to the shrines. She was waiting for the noon mass, and said she was going to walk around outside until it started. I told her that there were a bunch of shrines inside if she needed something to do, and mentioned that they even had a St. Jude. “St. Jude?” she said rather surprised, “That’s my parish in Arkansas!” Hmm. I thought this was strange considering the volume of traffic in the Cathedral. She could have talked to anyone, but she talked to me. It would appear as though I had attracted St. Jude to me again.

There was a time last season when I thought he hated me – my St. Jude candle burned me and broke, and I lost my medal. So, what gives now? My friend theorizes that when I lost the first medal the sign was ominous, and that, perhaps, he reappeared again the day I decided to make a change and admit defeat because that is what was meant to happen. When I switched teams I considered all avenues of possibility for how I would meet this mystery man, including the possibility that the Coyotes were meant to pull me away from the Flyers, even if it was to lead me elsewhere in the long run. Again, I will discuss more about this on November 5th! I’m reluctant to interpret the signs now out of fear of misinterpretation. After all, you could also interpret these signs in Phoenix’s favour. So, I guess I will just have to wait and see what happens with the Coyotes and I over the next few games, though, now I’m slightly more troubled that there might be something to that horrible feeling I was having yesterday.

At 1:30 I cleared out of mass and my room was finally ready! I didn’t want to waste time having a nap, but I couldn’t fight the need any longer. I crashed until 5ish, and had dinner around 8 at Nobu in Tribeca. I ate my face off. I actually couldn’t believe how amazing their sushi actually was. My snow crab sushi was actually made with crab! And their dessert menu was incredible! I absolutely loved the beer praline parfait!

One of the most entertaining features was the two people sitting at the table next to me. At first they appeared to be on a business meeting. This woman was really doing an oversell on her “abilities.” It actually depressed me. I had a similar depressing moment the last time I was here. In the big city it seems that if you are a career woman, you’re dooming yourself to being a spinster. This woman was obviously successful and intelligent, and she was conventionally pretty, but she was in her forties, and only discussed how her relationships have all failed horribly. I felt bad for her, mostly because I wondered if I was going to be like her when I’m that age. I guess I wanted to believe that there are men out there that aren’t intimidated by brains, but I guess bimbos with fake tits are still the easy option.

Anyway, the prospective employer didn’t seem to be interested in what she was selling, until she said, “Maybe I can help you in some way as well.” Oh yeah, he has some way alright. After this guy had been talking about his wife and kids, he fully started putting the moves on this chick. He starts holding her hand across the table, then kisses her ON THE LIPS when he goes to the washroom, and more of the same. What’s wrong with this girl? Any combination of respect or pity I had for her flew out the window. This activity was making her noticeably uncomfortable, but she was going along with it like she was still living the dream that she wasn’t going to have to see her “friend” naked later on. So, what was this? Sleeping your way to the top, or just another doormat who never learned to say, “no” in her forty some odd years? Either way, I’m sure I smirked into my champagne cocktail more than a few times, and may or may not have muttered, “pig” under my breath. I can’t be sure, champagne gets to me pretty fast.

I was so full after my large meal that I was determined to hike all the way back from Tribeca and walk it off. Apparently, I was actually paying attention to where the cabbie was going on the way there. I gave up on the exercise mission about half way back because I was stricken with sudden fatigue again. I hailed a cab, and sprawled out as soon as I got back in my room. I couldn’t move, and ended up passing out until midnight!

OK, so to wrap this up, here is my weirdest anecdote from Day 1. I was walking around in the evening, and a white car pulls up just ahead of me. As I walk passed, I hear the car horn honk, and the driver had obviously said something, but I didn’t know what. I looked over, and the guy was JACKING IT! YES, jacking it! I know most people would be offended, disgusted, or creeped out, but I thought it was funny, and I actually laughed before I walked away. I hope he didn’t take my laughter the wrong way LOL!

Anyway, that does it for my first day in NYC! Don’t forget that tomorrow is game day at Madison Square Garden! If you’re looking for me, I’m not sitting bench side this time. I’m somewhere on the penalty box side in the Coyotes zone. Don’t forget to Tweet if you see me!

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Saturday, October 24th, 2009

Woe is me I have no hockey team.

It has been exactly two weeks since I broke up with the Phoenix Coyotes, and if you haven’t noticed, via my tweets, I’ve moved well past the post break up remorse stage to the full fledged anger stage. Whatever love was there has been pushed aside for hate. Yes, boys, I’ve lost that loving feeling. What’s worse is that, much like Kyle Wellwood, I’ve replaced hockey with food. I’ve been treating every day like it were Thanksgiving since the break up – I find happiness in carbs and Halloween candy. Luckily, it would appear as though hating is a calorie burner because I haven’t noticed MUCH damage.

Of course, not having a hockey team to call my own has put quite a strain on, not only my blog/nutrition, but my relationship with the game as a whole. I think my fellow female hockey fans can relate when I say that when we scorch our wings by flying too close to one aspect of the game, we develop a similar aversion to the other components of the sport temporarily. I guess it all comes down to that, “Hell hath no wrath” business. I have to admit that I haven’t felt an aversion quite like this in over six years. Back then, I had gone through a major high school aged drama, which naturally seemed far more devastating through the eyes of an inexperienced and naïve teenager. Nevertheless, a complete and total loathing for hockey (at all levels) developed. I couldn’t even stomach watching my (then) beloved Maple Leafs until the fateful day I decided to embark upon writing Down the Rabbit Hole: A Guide to Puck Bunnies.

In the last two weeks I have watched maybe two hockey games, and even then I wasn’t really paying attention. You can see the impact this would have on my hockey blog. When I had my bat shit crazy outburst towards the Coyotes after I returned from their game in Buffalo, I wasn’t entirely sure that I would abandon the team. I decided to take some time to reflect on everything that happened particularly in the realm of the Arizona prophecies. I opted to keep my eyes on the Coyotes and their dealings, until, a couple games in, a completely unnecessary first intermission interview prompted me to turn off the TV and never turn it back on. I realized then that I wasn’t safe from the constant reminder of the hideous beast lurking in the desert, and that my happiness was now dependent on me avoiding the team at all costs. Unfortunately, I still have a few games to get through before we officially go our separate ways. But on a more positive note, I booked a trip to take a test drive of a new team, which I will reveal on November 5th when my plane lands in said NHL city.

I think the main reason that my hatred towards the Coyotes burns hotter than anything I’ve ever felt before is mainly due to the nature of our relationship in the first place. As most of you know, I became a Coyotes fan because a series of psychics had told me that it was essentially my destiny, and that the love of my life was connected to the place. When all the prophecies had fallen into place, I dropped everything and ran toward the desert at top speed because I rationalized that if the man of my dreams was really there, then the risk would be worth it whatever the cost. Since then I have been searching the globe for this guy, but have had no luck in neither finding him nor acquiring him. I didn’t want to give up on the quest, but after that moronic interview I really felt like I had no choice but to distance myself from the team. I can’t even begin to describe the bitterness that I feel about this whole situation. I put my life on pause for this mystery guy; I jeopardized my education, my future, my financial stability, and for what? Nothing! While I haven’t entirely given up on finding this guy, I have amended my course of action, which I will discuss in greater detail on November 5th. The weird thing is that it doesn’t feel like my choice, and it doesn’t feel like I’ve given up. It feels like I had found the guy, but instead of happily ever after, he chose to reject me. I guess I should have banked on that happening.

Anyway, tomorrow night I begin my trek down to New York City for one of my last few remaining Coyotes games. I am still hopeful that something miraculous will happen and that this man will somehow reveal himself to me, but the reality is that the clock is ticking on my time spent shadowing Phoenix. The realist in me is more than confident that I will be cheering on the Rangers come Monday night, and continuing on my brand new quest to find, not the man, but the hockey team of my dreams, and rekindle my passion for the game that I once loved more than anything in this world.

See you in Manhattan.

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Tuesday, October 20th, 2009

Top 10 Tuesday: Ways to destroy a hockey wife or girlfriend.

So, I wanted to do a special, and ultra disturbing Top 10 Tuesday in the spirit of Halloween. Unfortunately, I’ll be in New York City next week, so I had to move my Halloween entry up a week. This week lists all the ways that I have fantasized, I mean, just thought up right now, to dispose of the heinous bimbos that have attached themselves to our favourite hockey players like the lowly bottom feeding leeches that they are. I’m not a graphic artist, and I don’t have Photoshop, so you will have to deal with my crude Paint drawings! Anyway, I hope you are able to see the humour in this entry, and that you are not overly offended. The disclaimer can be found in my blog title (Psycho Lady). Happy Halloween!

10. Put the b**** on ice.


9. Bend “it” over.

8. Dismember “it” with a hockey skate.

7. Serve “it” for the pregame meal.


6. Bludgeon “it” to death with “its” boyfriend’s stick.

5. Give “it” a flu shot and watch “it” melt.

4. Use Voodoo magic to counter “its” sinister forces.

3. Stab “it” in the implants and see what comes out.


2. Process “it” into delicious hot dog meat. (Get it? ‘Cause “it’s” a sausage wallet?)

1. Push “it” in front of the team bus.

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Sunday, October 18th, 2009

Confessions of a Hockey Addict Through the Worst Photography You’ve Ever Seen [08-09 Edition]

The hockey season is well underway, so it’s about time that I get back to the third and final installment of Confessions of a Hockey Addict. The 08-09 season was the most challenging season to explain through pictures, as it was the first season that I started hitting games all by my lonesome, and I’m terrible about whipping it out…my camera that is. I also have some bad news. My friend lost her camera with all the never before seen, tell all photos from last season’s infamous Pittsburgh trip. I guess we’ll never know what really happened. Please feel free to direct all hate mail to my friend in the comments section of this blog post with the appropriate attention (Katrina’s Friend). Anyway, enjoy what pictures I could dig up from last season, and I will try my hardest to take pictures and make the 09-10 edition the best one yet! Top Photo: In Boston being enjoyed from the comfort of a sick bed in Philadelphia.

Flyers game in London…this was the best I could do. Shut up! You knew what you were getting with the title.

My favourite chiropractor.

2AM: after all the boys have given up on shooting for an 8, suddenly this is looking pretty damn good! I was a Red Wing for Halloween (notice the devil horns)

Unexpected game in Montreal. Tore the city apart looking for Philly gear…then I threatened to fist fight anyone who called me McNabb!

I think his total lack of awareness of me means he wants me! (Paul Gaustad)

My friend told me to do this, I don’t know what it means. Clearly spent all the Sabre bucks on brew.

Decided to bust out the sweater for the Ads game in Toronto. Remember when the jersey used to be not ugly?

An entire district devoted to the rink! Columbus is my kind of town minus the scandal that later ensued.

Apparently, the Flyers Skate Zone is located in Redneck, USA!? LOL

DILF! DILF! DILF! DILF! DILF! *attempts to make out with photo*

Where’s Waldo?

Another Flyers pracky! Uh oh, someone has a cramp! Poor little guy.

Unexpected trip to Ottawa to see the Leafs. Had to grab some off road sustenance…

…This is what we selected. Perhaps the apple caramel pie was a poor choice…you should have seen the state of the car afterwards. Yes, I was eating pie and pushing unholy speeds at the same time…I’m gifted like that!

Groin stretching Briere style.

Flyers@Bruins Look how happy I used to be! The day before the trade deadline. I was prematurely celebrating not having to switch teams to Phoenix…2 days later…

…@#$%!!!

The boys that bought me beer to cheer up my combination terrible hair/dick move bad day. The hair WAS terrible, but we look especially Addams Family-esque in this picture! Coyotes@Sabres

Season Finale in Phoenix. Backlash from Anaheim. This is what a bitch slap looks like in shirt form. Gretzky contemplates his manhood.

Where’s Waldo Switzerland edition. No hints on this one. Even Spezza doesn’t know.

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