Sunday, November 15, 2009

Saturday Recap

It's a gorgeous Sunday afternoon and Mimi, Pippi, my sis, and i are sprawled on the couches watching the Falcons game. Last night I went to the Gwinnett Gladiator's hockey game with Eric. The Gwinnett Gladiators are the Atlanta Thrashers' minor league team. What's not to love about hockey? Grown, burley men beating the crap out of each other. Shweeeet.

We actually went to watch his friend Dan Sullivan, aka Sully play. He's this HUGE Canadian dude that straight up looks like a bear...and then he opens his mouth and out comes that accent where all the words are bent to an O shape and an "EH" is added to the end of everything. His wife, Liz, is this pretty, petite blond that sneaked in a bottle of white zin in her purse. My kind of chick!

Sporting events are freakin awesome. Whats even MORE awesome is getting fabulously tossed at the sporting event! I like to try and make eye contact with the players... you know... givem a lil eye brow wiggle. And I must admit, they are mighty attractive. Hockey players are tough manly men. They're usually tall and have facial hair. They're more gangsta than other athletes because they WANT TO fight!! Sully got thrown in the penelty box 3 times. In the 3rd Period, the we were losing 11-3. Sully picked a fight with the opposing team and decked him...Hard. *sigh* *swoon!*

After the game ended, Liz took us downstairs to the waiting lounge where all the girlfriends were. I was surprised for 2 reasons. (1) All the players walked in wearing suits! They were all so dapper and handsome! Imagine a room full of well-dressed, 6'2 men....*the heavens open up and the angels start singing* (2) The girlfriends are apparently rotated out about every month. Liz is the only "wife" and therefore is always segragated by the other bitches. They are all skinny blondes that probably used to be popular cheerleaders in highschool but failed at being successful in any other arena and decided to land a hockey player in hopes of someday, becoming an NHL hockeywife.

After the game, Sully and his Gladiators had to go to McRae's Tavern on Perry St. to sign autographs for fans. I'm telling you, this bar was packed to the brim with a motley crue... flaming homosexuals that all looked like that Glambert guy, po white trash rednecks from the backwoods, pretty blondes and brunettes, and what i refer to as "the Confederacy"--u know, the ones that look like they recreate the Civil War in full costume and would probably call you a chink to your face! LOL. Right before he opened the doors of the tavern, Sully goes "Ready to see the mutants?" and then he does this fistpump and says "LETS DO THIS!!!!" funny. Eric and I decided to tag along...and happened.

ANOTHER FREAKIN PANIC ATTACK!!! *throws hands up in the air* FREAKIN REDICK. I ended up puking and went into full-on anxiety mode. I think I scared eric. I sat curled up in a ball outside, rocking myself back and forth trying to breathe. Breathe damnit BREATHE! I'd walk a couple steps, then squat back down, then rock myself again. I did this till I finally got to his car. I had to lie down and just wait till the attack left me. How freakin embarrassing. Every single time... EVERY SINGLE TIME my panic attacks hit me at the most perfectly wrong time. And then, as if the gods had not frowned on me enough,


Wow, funny how everything inconvenient happened in bulk. Eric said his goodbyes got me a ginger ale, swedish fish, and Sully's autograph and drove me to my car. I passed out during the entire drive and woke up just as we were pulling into the neighborhood. At this point, I feel horrible. I ruined a perfectly good night. I was determined to make it up. We went down the street to ihop. Grits and good conversation never tasted so good.
The End!

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