I've been pretty busy the last few weeks working on a freelance gig. The timing couldn't be better, since I've had this time off of school. They're a very nice group of folks to work for and the money I'm making should be enough to carry me through the summer, assuming I get denied the unemployment extension. Part of the gig is working on their UNIX server, it's like old home week for me, cranking away on a terminal window, set up the way I like it -- black screen w/ the ugly green type. I'd forgotten how focused I get, last night I was utterly exhausted, sick, grumpy, but couldn't stop until I did this one more thing. Made me remember all those crazy days at beyond, where we were all there late every night, thought we owned the world and were really part of something. Maybe that's why every job I've had since then has paled in comparison, because the world had already changed and what I was doing was already old news.

I want my work to be new news again.

I just noticed that the TV job I didn't get is already open again. I guess whoever they hired didn't work out so well. Ha!

The big bad nasty cold that Andrea had last week has jumped from her to me. I sound terrible, hack like an old smoker and have some sort of strange goo coming out of my left eye. That said, I still played pickup hockey today, this time as a goalie since goalies play free. Despite my inexperience, I did okay, it's different with 5 on 5 (my previous 2 games have been at 3 on 3, which is much faster paced). Nice to have defensemen there to help out with some of the guys camped out in front of the net. What's frustrating is the forward who bitched at me for not going down on every shot. Hey pal, I'm not an expert either but at least I'm wearing the gear. Could ya be a little nicer in your delivery? No. This is the same guy who's bitched at me for not waiting before I make passes as a forward, something I do regularly in my own games. The difference is that the guys at pickup are a lot more skilled than my normal compatriots and don't allow me the kind of time I usually get so the puck is stripped from me before I even have a chance to do something with it.

That Tod's grumpiness aside, I did a bit better this time, blocked more shots and fell on the puck a lot more. It's still quite a learning curve, almost like learning to skate all over again, except that you really can't move much with all those pads on. I'll make another attempt at Vallco's sticktime/pickup (which sucks as a forward but might be okay as a goalie) tomorrow.

Came across a full-time job that I'm qualified for today and thought seriously about applying for it. But then I realized that having a full-time gig would slow my degree progress down dramatically and more importantly, that I'm just not ready for that level of stress again, not on top of going to school. One of the truly wonderful things about having been in school this past semester was realizing how very little money I can get by on and how stress-free (or at least differently-stressed) my life is without the pressure of constantly waiting to be laid off. Someday, I'll work full time (or close to it) again but for now, I'm interested in getting by with enough money left over for pickup hockey and the occasional dinner out.

My badminton teacher finally reported grades, it's confirmed, I now proudly sport a 4.0 GPA for the first time in my life! I'm sure that will all change when I start Evil Statistics next week but for now, here I am, Liz Doughty, straight A student!

I did better as a goalie last night, I even went a record-setting 9.5 minutes without letting in a goal! It's exhausting, nerve-wracking but in a really weird way, fun.

Last night's win means that the A-Team is currently tied (with 4 other teams) for 3rd place in our divison. It's a new world record!

The A-Team rounded out our 2-games-in-2-days marathon with a much better game. The Lightning is a much nicer, more balanced team than the team we played last night. I took a risk and stacked one line with basically our 3 best skaters. It worked, that line had 6 of our 7 goals and we went on to win it 7-5, bringing our all-time win record to a new high of 3. Woo! I feel much better about playing co-ed, for now.

My grandmother hasn't been feeling well lately. Last week she was in the hospital for a few days, went home exhausted and has landed back in there today. At first glance it seems that she's had a mild heart attack. She's 97 years old and for the first time it seems that she's getting ready to leave us. Yesterday I talked to her and it was like she was going down a list of everything she'd wanted to say, it was good that I'm close to my brother, that I have Andrea, that I'm nice to my parents.

Part of me wants to get on a plane, go to her and shout "DON'T YOU LEAVE US" but in my heart I know that it's best if she's ready to go to let her get there peacefully. So I'm going to wait and see how she does over the next couple of days, knowing that I probably won't see her again.

From the moment we met, she's been my best friend, my loudest supporter, the one who taught me about the important things: making a nice dip and the art of playing cards. When I had no other friends, she was there, ready to bust out the dip and the cards, to fritter the night away on game after game of Gin Rummy. In the last few years, I've been there for her, when she was first really sick in 1999, I spent 10 days with her at the hospital, trying to make her want to get up again after losing a hip. We played ball in physical therapy, talked and went through some rather unpleasant stuff with her body. But I stayed because she was there for me. Over the last 4 years, I've gone home more and more, to remind her how much she means to me, to show her that I'm not just in her heart but I'm ready to be there, with her. We've watched Bob Barker, 'that Regis' and eaten Nuts. Each time I leave, she cries and I walk out with a heavy heart, guilty that I don't live there anymore, that I'm not there to help my mom with her care.

Indeedy, 97 years is a good run in any book but that doesn't do much to ease the aching in my heart at the thought of a world without her. I wish her a safe journey and pray that Alice is there to welcome her when she arrives.

From what I can tell, hockey bags are supposed to last about a year. That is, if you play 1-2 times a week and treat them with care. I don't. I play 3-6 times a week and treat mine the way a small child would, throwing it about and dragging it across the ground. So my lifespan is running at about 6 monhts right now. My current model, the Mission bag w/ wheels has just crapped out. I've apparently ripped a huge hole in the bottom of it, so now when I pull it, stuff spills out of the bottom. Too bad, it's been the coolest bag I've had so far (thanks, Kathy!). Short term, I think it's time to bust out the duct tape. Long term, it's time to accept that I should get the less expensive models, though hopefully I can still afford wheels.

After two pretty pathetic games last night, I ran home, showered and got all dolled up to head to Dr. Wen's party in Santa Cruz. I made the drive in record time and arrived in time to hang out with Melinda, Damon and Kai. I hadn't really spent any time with Kai in a long time, mostly because life on this side of the hill had taken over, there was no time to head to Santa Cruz like there used to be. I don't lament the changes in my life that keep me here most of the time but I do miss hanging out with those kids.

I had the chance to grill Kai about his transition to manhood, asking every question I'd had stored in my little mind about the subject. Was it scary? How soon did your boobs shrink (fast enough to make my well-endowed self jealous!), was it tough walking into men's bathroom's at first, and the one I should've asked but didn't need to, the answer was obvious -- are you happy? Yes, he is very happy, a totally different kind of energy now. It was fantastic to see him like that, finally himself after all these years.

And marvellously boob-less and muscular. Hooray for you, my old friend!

It seems that my co-ed hockey division is becoming more and more physical. To some extent this is fine, I don't mind being bumped a bit, because it gives me the freedom to bump myself. Being a woman helps a lot, too. I get away with a lot of shit that men get called on. But I think it's going too far. I've been hurt more this season playing co-ed than I ever have. My tailbone (which is still not quite right), and assorted bumps and bruises. Today I'm way more sore than I have a right to be. Last night's game featured a lot of shoving, me tripping a guy (and not being called, of course) and the real highlight, mostly mild-mannered Vinnie shooting across the ice after a whistle to start pummeling a guy on the other team. A great melee ensued, with Irene (Master of Referreeing) trying to hold the other guy back, while he took a swing at her. I stood there shouting "DON'T FUCKING TOUCH IRENE" and would have gone in if I thought it would help. But really, it's not like any hitting I could do would add any kind of value.

I'm not sure where to go with this. I don't like all the hitting, I don't like being hurt after games, especially when we're not winning. What is the answer?