Last night, for something fun and different, my mom and I went to the Sabres game. I wish I could skate. I knew a few hockey girls in high school and college, and they were always such badasses. It’s really two sports at once, and I can resist tussles. I’m a pretty level person, but I’ve gotten into a couple of shoving matches on the rugby pitch, and I was disappointed that there weren’t any fights last night. We were late getting there due to some breakdown in communication, but we made it for the second period, and even if there weren’t any fights, and the Sabres lost, there was plenty of exciting hockey action. Hopkins has a hockey team, but they’re mostly known for lacrosse, which I’m not terribly familiar with. My older sister played in high school, but I mostly just remember the head injuries she suffered, and that the Seneca team played in sneakers and kicked her team’s private school bottoms. It’s rough though, and I like that, so maybe I’ll like watching lacrosse, and be all school spirited. Hopkins colors are black and yellow, just like Hufflepuff, so I like the image of getting all decked out to support our teams while secretly geeking out over Harry Potter.
It’s actually wintery out, and so I am hibernating, but productively. I have an anatomy test on Tuesday, and I’m taking the day to review, and tidy. It’s sort of nice that it’s all snowy out, but I was really ready for spring. Last week I walked to my mandolin lesson, and while it was chilly, it felt like spring. It was the kind of chilly that you could play soccer in, that makes your legs cold and red, and that makes getting hit with the ball super painful, but once you get running you don’t feel cold anymore. Now it’s the kind of cold that makes you want to stay inside, by a fire, reading about hormones, and while that is a valid kind of cold, and it has its place, I hate moving backwards.