I am NOT Tech Support
I headed back to the sports medicine doc this morning to see what's up with my shoulder and get a refill on the drugs she prescribed last fall. My pharmacy had many issues trying to fill it because the lameass insurance didn't like it, the doc's office never called the pharmacy back and when I called, their answering service told me that they don't take messages. Huh? What's the point, then?

I can also afford my part of the co-pay on the MRI that she ordered back then so I wanted to set that up, finally.

I was there 5 min early and was ushered into a room, where I waited for 20 minutes until the esteemed doctor made her way in. When I mentioned that I'm working and could now get the MRI, she asked where I work (a large, successful Internet-based company that I'll not name here) then proceeded to tell me about her troubles with email and Yahoo (where I do not work).

What I wanted to say: Look lady, your office fucked me out of pain killers and now that I've waited 20 minutes to talk to you, please beleive me when I say that I am NOT tech support and I am not paying you to troubleshoot your computer.

What I did say: Well, you should talk to Yahoo. Now, about my shoulder...

She rushed me in and out in a total of 5 minutes then handed me off to her assistant, who seemed shocked that I wouldn't have my original prescription for the MRI that was handed to me last November. I actually had the guts to say "One piece of paper from six months ago? You have got to be kidding. Please make a new copy for me."

I think I'll get the MRI, then find a doctor who's a little more focused on the patient. Through the whole process I felt like an afterthought. How lame is that?

I just got the word that Susan and Bill finally welcomed the twins into the world today. They're two little girls, one arrived at 5:30 this morning, the next 5 hours later.

Welcome little ones! We're all glad you're here at last and all three of you are okay.

Last night was all about rockin in the free world. First, I did the first presentation of the literature review for my thesis ("Nice Guys Always Finish Last, but Women Don't Even get to Start, an analysis of the disparity of opportunity for women in sport") and while it wasn't a badass, super-polished hour of fun, it was pretty darn good. I covered everything I wanted to (did you know that the most money a woman athlete can make as a professional in a non-traditional sport in this country is $55,000 in the wnba?) and alluded to my vast range of knowledge on the topic of women and sports. I ended about 10 minutes too early but oh well, I still covered everything I meant to.

I left early to go to my maroon game, where the Rabblerousers played with a full bench for the first time. We kicked ass, winning 4-2 and having a great time. I am extremely lucky that I was able to pick so many of my friends, we really gelled. This team is so fun that it's almost worth all the crap I went through coordinating evals. Almost.

The word on the street is that the Ice Hounds are striving to bring out their inner Gordy Howe. Resist! Resist!

Last night's A-Team II game kicked ass! We had help from a couple of last-minute subs who rocked (and got a nice view from the penalty box) and played well together. We laughed a lot, made a few good plays and in the end, lost 4-1 to the nicest team in the whole world (note: we haven't played the Ice Hounds yet, I'm also expecting them to tie for this distinction), the Ice Monkeys.

I've never had so much fun losing!

I want to thank everyone who has made a donation to my Relay For Life efforts. I know that thinking of the loved ones you've lost isn't always an easy task, please be assured that I'm extremely grateful for your kindness and your donations. I'll do my best to honor your losses as I walk.

One benefit to all the thinking about cancer that this has inspired is that finally, almost 4 years after losing her, I can think of more good days than bad that we shared with Ellie. She was truly a little angel who I was lucky enough to know, even for a short while.

I hope that our efforts this July add up to even one more day with loved ones for people fighting this horrible disease. Thanks for being part of that.

Weekend Hockey Report
I'm struggling with returning to co-ed play. It seems that since I've gotten a bit better recently (faster, smarter about my moves and even stick-handling better) I've become a bit of a target to the other teams. This means that I get pushed around (yes, I push back) a lot more and that the guys are less inclined to hold back just because I'm female. The good news (I think) is that I'm still not getting many penalties for this. The bad news is that I'm really letting it get to me, like it just doesn't quite connect that in some ways, these guys finally see me as an equal threat to the other guys out there. (Is that a good thing?)

So yesterday, I played hard on the crappiest ice ever, fought for every puck and more often than not, came up victorious. Of that, I am proud. We won, 3-2, I'm proud of that too. But what I'm not proud of is how much I let this one asshole get to me. We were tousling a little all game, nothing serious until the last minute or so. They were trying desperately to tie the game up and we were trying desperately not to let them. I was down low with Mr. Mentally Unstable who is New to Hockey and doesn't quite grasp some of the more subtle things that go on.

Like my favorite move: when I feel an opponent's stick up around my waist, you bet your ass I'm going to reach out and hang on to it. If you're dumb enough to hold it up that high that close to me, well, duh. Don't do that. But Mr. Mentally Unstable did, not doing what most people do, which is to start to skate away. At that point, I'll let go since my dirty little trick becomes obvious enough to get a call. But this guy just stood there like a moron, shaking the thing and shouting, no doubt getting seriously pissed off that a 'girl' was keeping him from moving. Finally, he wrestled the thing away from me (his version) or I let go (my version) and his stick flew up and hit me in the head, which pissed me off.

What did I do next? The dumbest, most dangerous thing I've ever done in a hockey game. I hit him over the head with my stick. I know, I know, that was DUMB. Kids, do NOT try this at home! He did not take kindly to this and turned around, faced me, then slammed me full force into my own net (I would like to note that I did not fall down!). He came up swinging so I asked if he wanted to fight me. Over and over, he said "YOU HELD MY STICK!!" as if that makes hitting me in the head, then starting a fight okay, or even necessary.

There's a code of conduct that usually dictates that the guys do not fight the women, but apparently my skills have reached the point where that code is now void. I need to remember to stay focused on the next play and not let these assholes get to me. I also need to NEVER retaliate like that again. Getting the puck and making a good play immediately afterwards is a much better choice.

After the game, he called me a crazy bitch when we were shaking hands (I did not shake his) so I went up to him again and said hey, let's let it go okay? To which he replied "YOU HELD MY STICK!!" Um, yes, I know that.

This time, I got the last word in. My reply?

Honey, it's just hockey. And I skated away, another A-Team win in my pocket.