I was going to go on and on about spending the weekend with a friend who was suffering chest pains---she's fine, thank you for asking. The excitement of being in a waiting room, with a ten-year-old who was, in equal parts, terrified and bored, cannot be made too much of.
Then, I was going to expound on the joys of attending a baby shower. A baby shower that lasted more than three hours. Three freaking hours. And I got there late! It was almost as much fun as trying to make conversation with the other attendees. Darling women, the lot of them. Really. It's just delightful being surrounded by that much perfection and its offspring. Not as uplifting as the disdainful looks and exclusionary conversation, but gosh, super all the same.
The only redeeming factor in this whole weekend was the willingness of The Good Lisa's children to watch the end of the Toronto-Ottawa game and the beginning of the Montreal-Los Angeles game. That's right. I'm talking hockey.
Now, don't get me wrong; there's nothing wrong with Olympic hockey. There really isn't. It just doesn't set me on fire the way watching certain teams can. And the whole "discussion" about it being Canada's game, the U.S. being underdogs, blah blah blah.... Enough, already. I'll tell you what I said to anyone who'd listen during the Games: It doesn't matter who wins or loses the gold medal. At the end of the day, the largest hockey league in the world is 75% Canadian. Sure, you've got some Finns, some Swedes, a few Russians and Czechs. There are about three to six U.S. players on each NHL team. There's one wacky Brazilian, and that still blows my mind. The vast majority of the league, however, is, was and will be Canadian.
National fervor satisfied? No? Okay, how about this. For someone not from Canada to make it in the NHL, he's got to be pretty amazing, just based on sheer competition. Be proud of your hockey players.
Now shut up and watch the game.