As you might have guessed, it takes a special kind of person to handle the madness that is the hockey season according to Psycho Lady. Not many people have the stamina to drive for an endless amount of time, or stay both awake and coherent for days upon days. You can imagine that my hockey season routine is somewhat blueprinted in my genetic make-up, thus making the off season a very trying time. Wednesday was an example of what happens when the hockey habits get the better of me and there isn’t any hockey available to satisfy my urges.

The 08-09 hockey season was unlike no other hockey season that came before it. On the back burner there was a television show, and a busy producer and the economic death of CanCon* (American translation: Canadian arts content) which was causing a lot of unnecessary worry, impatience, and stress. Then there was the prophesized switch to Phoenix that resulted in so much stress, insomnia, and misery (from mind games) that I was finally pushed over the edge. I don’t cry very often, in fact, I’m considered to be the one amongst my friends and family with the nerves of steel; yet there were about eight million emotional break downs during the final stretch of the hockey season, which should help to put in perspective just how much garbage was really going on.

Maybe it was the vast importance that I had associated with the change of teams. I don’t often put much stock into what psychics tell me, but when they all start telling me the same thing, then I start to pay attention. The psychics had unanimously told me that my “true love/soulmate/all those great terms” had an Arizona connection/was in Arizona. This is going to sound way more romantic than it is or than I am (I’m really not very chick-flicky), but as I had explained, if the psychics were right and this guy really was there or associated with my switch there, then it doesn’t matter if I don’t know who he is because if it is the person I’m supposed to be with, then of course I’d do anything for him anyway. And so it was in total blind faith that I rushed out of the Boston airport at the NHL trade deadline, and turned my entire life upside down trying to find what/who may or may not be awaiting me there. It’s like if a psychic told you that you were going to win the lottery, you’d be an idiot not to at least spend the $2 and buy a ticket. (Also note, at the beginning of January one of the psychics also told me that I’d be going to Switzerland to which I replied, “Umm, you mean Philadelphia?” I had forgotten about that until I played the tape again after I came back from the IIHF World Championship in Zurich!)

So, when I finally got the sign to switch to Phoenix, it seemed like the prophecy was within reach. But instead of true love, I was greeted with a lot of unpleasantness. And what’s worse is that I have no man to show for my efforts. Not to mention, while I was off playing white knight to some mystery man, certain things at home had fallen into a distant second place – umm like school. It was pretty much solely based on my powers of persuasion and my problem solving skills that I even managed to graduate on June 18th as I was meant to. Perhaps, I should have gone to law school after all because at U of T beating the system just doesn’t happen. You can also imagine the stress that this added to the already catastrophic levels left over from the hockey season, and I was finally starting to crack. (It takes a lot of stress to finally get to me. My coaches used to always say that I preformed best under pressure – and it’s true. Again, this should put things in perspective for you.) Basically, I stopped sleeping in March.

I was really worried about my stress levels and insomnia. So, I decided I would do something this week to remedy it – especially since I was beginning to feel like I wouldn’t be able to handle the 09-10 season. I booked a spa morning at Novo Spa in Yorkville, and tried to relax. It worked a little, but it wasn’t enough. I was dreaming of wilderness spa retreats. You know the places where there is nothing to do except hang by the lake and have massages. I decided that I would make my own – spa in Toronto, then wilderness adventure somewhere north of the city. Well I didn’t PLAN it so much as it just happened.

The road trip is one of the most essential parts of my hockey experience. I don’t know why, but I need it. In the off season, I find myself doing a lot of unnecessary driving. I’ll drive around for an hour before I’ll finally stop at the grocery store. I even make sure that I apply for jobs with travel due to my extremely restless nature. Anyway, after the spa, I needed a drive. I didn’t pack anything other than some homemade organic soup and vitamins. If you’ve been following my Twitter, you’ll know I’m in the process of working off the weight I ALWAYS gain in the final stretch of the season (for the last time EVER!!). This is because the final stretch/playoffs coincide with university essay season and exam time = I live on a diet of pure carbs and Rockstars and little to no exercise. So, I brought my own food, in case I felt compelled to go to McDonald’s and ruin all of my progress.

I ended up about three hours away from the city in cottage country in “Ardoch, ON” or something. What’s the off season without some time on the lake anyway, right? I spent the next two days on the water chasing a flock of ducks around the lake with a row boat and a water gun while singing a combination of I’m on a Boat and the Darth Vader theme song. OK, it’s “cruel,” but I made up for it by also bringing them bread. And I didn’t discriminate against the ducks either. I was equally annoying to the seagulls and the turtles.

About to make a sneak attack on the ducks.

When I was off the water, I spent my time ruining my diet plan with roasted marshmallows and effing amazing cheesecake from the bakery in town. Oh well, I got additional exercise rowing, canoeing, and, yes, even paddle boating in my pursuits of animal cruelty. Whatever, at least it wasn’t a REAL gun. I slept on a couch inside a screened in gazebo, which was awesome because I could hear the frogs and loons crystal clear all night. It was a step up from my original idea to sleep in my car. I thought that would be a nice tribute in the anticipation of the new Trailer Park Boys movie, Countdown to Liquor Day!

I also learned some wilderness survival techniques like how to successfully avoid showering. Who needs a shower when you can jump in the lake and put bug spray in your hair!? On a completely unrelated note, I have absolutely no idea why I don’t have a boyfriend and why boy(s) don’t bother calling me when I give/MySpace them my phone number.

Anyway, if you think my brief adventure into the bush was completely without hockey, then you’d be wrong. After I bug sprayed up the hair, I needed to find some type of hat to cover my head. Much like my overnight adventure from Buffalo to Long Island during the Phoenix Coyotes five game road trip, I went rummaging around the trunk to see what hats I could find. Sure enough, there was that dreaded Leafs hat staring me in the face again. This hat seems to spark a lot of commentary Re: Wherefore, Romeo: Long Island (Day 6). And when I wore it into the small town of Sharbot Lake, people were not any quieter. As I was approaching the miniature LCBO* (American/non-Ontarian translation: liquor store), I heard what sounded like a sheep baa-ing at me from inside a car. No, it was just a very, very East coast Canadian accent expressing a distaste for the Maple Leafs. “That’s a baaaaaad, baaaaaad haaaat, eeeeh?” Yes… I know it is.

Also, passing through the little towns on my way up to the lake, I noticed a peculiar blue and white fire hydrant at the Tim Horton’s in Tweed. Upon closer inspection, the fire hydrant had been painted to look like a Toronto Maple Leafs hockey player. Either this was a patriotic homage to the team, or a symbolic statement likening the Leafs to a canine piss receptacle.

I wish I had more time on the lake, but I was excited to get home and discover that the 09-10 NHL schedule had finally been released. However, my schedule party was not the happy occasion it normally is. I still have no idea which team will be my team next season. Will I get the call and make Phoenix my team again? Or will I settle down closer to home prophecies be damned? And that’s an oversimplification, my post grad job search has also taken me out of Toronto, and as of right now there is a possibility that I may relocate to Ottawa or Edmonton. For the first time ever, I looked at more than one team’s schedule. I know what I want to do, but the decision will ultimately depend on what does or does not happen in the remaining weeks before training camp.

Honorable Mention:

There is no rear access at Crotch Lake.