Wow. I'm kind of boring without the Hawks to talk about.

Ok, ok...I promise this is my last hockey related post. FOR NOW.

Hopefully something worth relating will happen this weekend. If not, Jeebus, I'm gonna lose my 7 readers.

Alright. One. Last. Hockey. Thing.

I got a letter today confirming my deposit for the Season Ticket waitlist. Only 4 months until pre-season games!!

(Ok, I'll stop now)



nothing more than feeeeeliinngssss.

tried to find a photo that would be indicative of the emotions I'm feeling, but to no avail.

I felt the need to write this right now while my emotions are raw.


Ahem...excuse me.

My boys (and YES, they are MY boys) have gone as far as they can go. For this season, anyways.

And now I have to utter the phrase so often uttered by nearly every Chicagoan.

There's always next year. Jeebus, my skin crawls just typing it.

I am infinitely proud of how far the team as a whole (yes you Huet, you too. Don't listen to those haters). And though I am in the pits of despair right now; I feel like it's important to find the silver lining. So....here goes:

Imaginary Husband can shave his playoff beard. I think it's universally agreed upon fact that his was particularly heinous.

I am now closer to 2009-2010 season tickets. And next year? When they go all the way? My lily white ass will be there for all the madness

And to my dear, dear (you know who you are) friends who cheer for the team who shall not be mentioned. Since my momma taught me manners; congratulations on your win.

I've got some emotions to sort through, I should be right as rain soon.

It's on to the Finals and then to the Cubbies, which will most likely never factor on here again.

Here comes the Hawks, the mighty Blackhawks...

*quietly sobs*


Hidden Strengths

Today my ma and I visited the Illinois Holocaust Museum & Education Center. Cause we like to take things nice & easy on vacation weekends. While neither of us were particularly impressed with the layout or the method in which they chose to convey their message, that's not what this post is about.

What could be a better day than Memorial Day to write a post about my Grandfather? My maternal Grandfather and I were never particularly close; in fact, he was the epitome of a curmudgeon (that's putting in nicely). But, I always find myself thinking of his life whenever the Holocaust is discussed...

At age nine my Grandfather moved to Bialystok, Poland to live with his grandparents after his parents, older sister and younger brother were killed in a robbery of the family's store.

He lived in Poland until he was 25. At that time, he attempted to leave Poland. For some reason the US official refused to let him on a boat. He was able to find a teacher who could write English. He paid this teacher to write a letter to President Roosevelt.

It cost him 5 dollars.

Not long after, somehow, a letter reached the same US official with very detailed instructions. We're not certain whether the letter was from the State Department or Roosevelt himself. The letter told the official he was to let my Grandfather, his brother, his brother's wife and their baby on the next boat.

When it came time to get on the boat, his brother's mother-in-law did not want them to leave. They decided to stay in Poland and wait it out.

As with many, we have no records of their death, but due to the proximity we assume that his brother, sister-in-law and nephew perished in Auschwitz.

At the time, with his departure eminent, my Grandfather came down with a fever. By sucking on ice cubes (we think for about a day or so) he was able to lower his temperature enough to get on the boat. That's how my Mother's family in the US was started.

After his arrival in the US, he lived with his sister in Chicago. He then enlisted in the Army so as to become an immediate citizen and not wait the standard 7 years. He was then deployed to the South Pacific where he contracted malaria which went undiagnosed and subsequently lost a kidney.

He then returned to Chicago where he worked in his brother-in-law's hardware store. He married my Grandmother, saved enough money and then opened his own store.

Whenever I think of his story (albeit, very annotated here), I am amazed by him.

I am amazed by the strength we all scarcely know we have.


Better than a stick in the eye

So, it's been a big week at work and an even bigger weekend for me hockey-wise (no, I won't discuss what happened today). I don't have anything new, but I just wanted to check in and say hello!

I'm sure you're all sick of me posting videos (instead of actually writing things) but I just couldn't help myself with this one.

My mom calls me her little prickly-pear and that's a pretty good definition. I am most definitely pokey & prickly on the outside and mushy, gushy on the inside. So, I proudly say that this video made me cry. It really is just sweet and nice and hopefully I can take away the "message" of helping out.

Also, the adorable Nutmeg awarded me an award-y type thing.

Gotta be honest, I've never won anything remotely associated with this blog. So....yay!! Give me a minute and I'll try to award some other folks.

Let's all have a great week filled with easy work days and some BLACKHAWKS WINS!!!


Never believe it's not so...

Oh, oh, oh it's magic you know!!!

So, I know I said I'd see ya'll after the 18th, but I just couldn't let last night go un-posted. Last night Daisy & I got to attend one of the most exciting things I've ever seen. That would be the Hawks beating Vancouver. It truly was a roller-coaster of a game and some wonderful new traditions (or superstitions, whatever floats your boat) were born.

Also, I thought I would share the story of the Commandeered Jersey with you so you have something to tide you over.

The Scene: United Center-Fandemonium
The Players: DJ, Daisy, salesman & one unsuspecting child

Picture it:

Daisy & I are in Fandemonium because I wanted to purchase a jersey with my favorite player's number on it. Now, said player is not one of the more "popular" numbers so they don't have as large of a stock.

I proceed to try on the smallest size adult jersey they have and I could have invited a few more friends in it was so big.

So the salesman suggests that we look in the child's sizes and Daisy (in a moment of infinite wisdom) tells me to stay where I am and she'll go check it out.

About 5 seconds later she returns, thrusts a balled up jersey into my hands and mutters something like, "heretakethisjerseyandputitonquick".

Of course, I know better than to ignore her so as fast as I can I throw it on. It fits LIKE A GLOVE.

Long story short, if you're a small child and you have gathered a large pile of purchases; and you look away, don't be surprised if you see DJ & Daisy and then the pile is suddenly missing a few things.

We don't mess around.


Raggedy Annie

Hello Chickens!

(It's my new Grey Gardens greeting. Do ya'll prefer being called Chickens or Pets?)

I am SWAMPED at work, and thus am EXHAUSTED (look! CAPS mean I'm serious)

Frankly, right now I'm a bit tore up from the floor up to write anything. So, I'll just post a few videos from one of my favorite funny ladies.

Oh Sarah....you slay me...

I promise to be back and in full wit mode by the 18th! Hugs & kisses....

and oh yeah....GO HAWKS!!!!



Every time I see things like this on Cute Overload I laugh so hard my eyes water & my ribs hurt. I'm also trying to erase the memory of last night's post.

Quick!! Some one get me a puppy so I can dress it up in embarrassing things....STAT!