I rolled out of bed pretty late on that Monday. I was feeling kind of lazy and lost the will to do anything crazy in my usual form. I had been toying with the idea of either continuing on to Minnesota, or heading south to Dallas. I think I crave the adventure maybe more than I crave the actual hockey. Unfortunately, I was ill equipped to embark upon another “mystical six game road trip” like I had spontaneously mounted last season at the beginning of March. So, I decided that a trip to Victoria’s Secret was all the excitement I was going to have that day.

I ended up checking out of the hotel way later than I had expected. I was watching HBO or something while I was packing, and He’s Just Not that Into You came on. I was very against the whole idea of that movie when I first heard about it. I really hate all that self-help dating stuff, especially considering it’s usually based on the experience of the individual, and centres around women having to modify their behaviour to be even remotely worthy of any man. I won’t go off on one of THOSE tangents, though. And, like I said, I don’t read those books and haven’t read this particular book either. All I know is that my friends that do subscribe to this brand of garbage, basically turn into walking doormats the moment a penis enters the vicinity. Whatever works, right? I’m personally not a doormat, nor do I find doormats attractive. So, I would definitely rather be without someone who wants that type of person *ahem* stereotypical hockey wife.

Anyway, when the movie was about to come on, I reached for the remote to flick it off, but had a curious change of heart. I thought that I’d see how this movie handled all the grade A advice staining the pages of the book. I was only going to watch it for twenty minutes or so while I finished getting my stuff together, but I have to admit that it was surprisingly good. Long after I had packed and put my coat on to leave, I could not pull myself away from it. I had to see how it ended. I was literally perched on the end of the bed in my winter coat, boots, and with car keys in hand for a solid hour at least! What I found interesting about the movie was that all the main characters ended up being “exceptions.” I kind of like that big F you the writers appear to have sent to the author of the book by doing that. After all, what good can the theories and “rules” be if they can’t even hold up?

At 1PM, I finally left my hotel and was bound for the big Victoria’s Secret on Michigan Ave. Surprise! They just happened to be having their Semi Annual Sale. I knew this was going to be more than a quick run in to pick up a new bra. I spent two whole hours in that place, and came away with some gems like the top photo suggests. Mine’s black, though, and it looks better on her, I’m pretty sure. It was great for me to actually have something to declare when the border guard asked me how much I spent on goods. They usually find it suspicious that I never go shopping when I’m away on my trips. Sorry, I just really HATE that activity. This time around, my border guard was a femme, and we had a nice little chat about the sale.

At three, I was back on the road and headed directly into the same hideous weather I hit on my initial journey to the Windy City. Luckily, I stumbled upon Easy Street somewhere in the-middle-of-nowhere, Michigan. Literally. I stopped for gas in some no name spot, which happened to be off a meaningless road with Easy St. labeled on the street sign. So, that’s where it is! Unfortunately, the streets weren’t easy for very long. I still had the 402 to conquer, and, of course, it did not falter in providing me with another one of its usual winter whiteout challenges.

What I love about driving, even in terrible snowstorms, is that the road gives me a place to think. Naturally, finding an NHL team to call my own was a major topic of internal debate during this trip. In my head there were really only three candidates, the Ducks, the Leafs, and the Coyotes. The Ducks have a lot of things that I like, but this trip made me feel like the team and I don’t have enough history to keep a long distance bond like ours alive for long. The Leafs and I go way back. They are the team I grew up with, and we’ve been through a lot. I was there when the team was hot, just like I was there when they were not. And the support was mutual. The Leafs were there for me when I had no one. I sometimes wonder what I would have done without my Saturday night Leafs game at certain points in my life. However, the home games are ridiculously overpriced and tickets are hard to come by. Granted, I’d spend more money paying for a flight, accommodations, and a hockey ticket in the Pacific Division, but the Leafs don’t satisfy the adventurer in me seeing as it only takes me ten minutes to get to the rink. Then there’s Phoenix. I don’t have much to say in their favour at this point, but something someone told me a month and a half ago has played over and over again in my mind.

A woman felt that she needed to weigh in on that whole Arizona Prophecy thing. She told me she lost me at the point that I decided to ditch the Coyotes. Basically, she felt that everything seemed to say that Arizona was where I needed to be, so, no matter what, I shouldn’t have pulled myself away. Maybe that’s true, and maybe it’s not. It’s hard to know what events to pay attention to and what to filter out. She makes some sense, but I don’t know if I can really go back at this point. Going to see a team play, just so you can cheer against them, is not all that enjoyable. Trust me.

By the time I pulled into the drive way at my parents’ house, I made no decision about my new NHL allegiance. Instead, I began to get some crazy ideas in my head that I might branch out altogether. I was thinking that maybe it was time to take a little vacation from the NHL, and switch leagues for a month or so – for my sanity. Luckily, the Olympic break is right around the corner, so the timing couldn’t be more perfect. Stay tuned for details.

Roll the credits…