and the streak continues

For those of you who haven't already blamed me, yes, I was at the Cal/UofA game, bringing my streak of road losses to 5 in a row. Einstein's definition of insanity is "doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." Whatever, what does he know about the pains of being a Cal football fan? I'm still going to go to these games, even if my record is looking more and more like coyote v. roadrunner; poor guy, but who can blame him -- that bird looks delicious.

In other sporting news, I went to my first ever NHL game a couple of weeks ago, and shockingly it was really fun. It was completely unexpected: my team actually won, seven total goals were scored, there was a fight, and it was in San Jose but there were (relatively) no Asian people there. It's definitely one of those things that way better live than on TV, which is crazy because I'm a big advocate of using TV to escape the unbearable rigors of real life. If this continues, I might have to shed my elitist socialist agenda, find a hockey mom of my own, settle down on my ranch with my bible and my gun, and live next door to my alcholic best friend, Joe Six-Pack the Plumber.

stupid desert living...

So, I'm just sitting on my couch watching TV when I feel something rubbing against the back of my neck. Instead of just getting up and looking behind me, I decided it would be better to brush whatever it was blindly off with my left hand. Next thing I feel is a searing pain running through my ring finger, which causes me to jump out of my seat and flail my arms wildly as if fighting an invisible ghost. My finger in extreme pain, I look on the ground and see a scorpion. OMFG, did I just get stung by a scorpion? I grab the nearest blunt object, which of course is my trusty remote control and smash the shit out of the sonofabitch. Freaked out, I had enough sense to get some ice to put on my finger and Google "scorpion sting" with my one good hand. On the website, it says there are hundreds of scorpion species in Arizona, the most dangerous of which is the bark scorpion. Heh, what are the chances that the one that got me was that one (one out of hundreds, I would assume). There are pictures...OK, lets see what this guy looks like.
FUCK! By now, my arm is starting to feel numb and the finger is throbbing, even with the ice. I get the number for poison control and give them a call. The lady just tells me that this happens all the time (not reassuring), to keep ice on it (duh), and to take something for the pain. I tell her I don't have any Prozac, but apparently she's referring to the physical pain, not my deep-seeded emotional pain. We (I) laugh about the mix up. She then tells me to stop being a little bitch, to stop crying, to man up, to walk it off, to grow a pair, and many, many more cliches that I though inappropriate for the situation, but kept to myself for fear of further berating. I take her advice to heart and hang up. One restless night later, I wake up and the finger still freakin' hurts, but now it's also kinda numb, so at least I got that going for me...