I think this one is going to be a difficult one…

1. Dune.  This was my favorite movie when I was a kid.  Yes, a little grown up for me, but I was just so fascinated with the story.  I had every word memorized.  I was in love with Kyle MacLachlan.  When Patrick Stewart went on to captain Star Trek: The Next Generation…who was a fan…ME! 

I don’t know…Dune was just so magical to me.  I think it helped create my imagination for me.  It opened my mind to storytelling.  It allowed me to create stories in my mind.  Even to this day, I think about the next book I’ll write…and I have the movie Dune to thank for helping me develop this story in my mind.

2.  Beauty and the Beast.  I never really liked Disney movies.  I thought it was too frou frou for my standards.  After all, DUNE shaped my mind and my imagination.  [Could explain why I choose to be more like Paul…a hero archetype.]  Anyway, I remember the first time I saw this movie in the theaters.  I was in high school and a bunch of my friends went to Linton Cinemas (Indiana) to see this film.

I was thinking…great…some stupid Disney flick. 

I sat there and watched and became completely mesmerized starting at the very beginning of the story when they showed the windows.  THE WINDOWS WON ME OVER!

I was so enchanted by this film that I memorized every song.  I used to sit outside and sing the entire soundtrack to the animals on our farm.  No joke…all of them came out to sit next to me as I sang to them.  All of the cats wanted to sit on my lap.  I managed to get six of them on my lap at one time.  We had 18 cats (we lived on a farm, so this is natural).  I had to take turns rotating them around as I sang our way through Beauty and the Beast.

In a way, I think Belle was a lot like me and that’s why I loved the film so much.  She loved books.  People thought she was crazy because she had a mind of her own.  A lot like me.  The kids in my town thought I was crazy for wanting to see the world beyond our own little world.  Or falling in love with someone because of the person you see inside of them and not what you see on the outside.

Beauty and the Beast was the Disney film that defined me.

3.  The Seventh Sign.  I’m not even going to explain why I love this film, because if you’ve seen it, you’re going to think…this chick is insane.  It’s an apocalyptic religious film about the end of days. 

I am actually a huge fan of those end of days kind of films, because I like seeing how someone sees how the world will end.  I like watching how there’s a struggle between good and evil.  I like seeing man trying to fight evil to save the world from the end.

I just like movies about the whole man versus the devil…and trying to stop the inevitable…the end of the world as we know it.

I am fascinated by the way people see how this world ends…and they all portray it as something that will be happening soon…not 50 years from now.  Or in Supernatural terms…the shit’s going down right now.  I think that’s why I love that show so much.

I’m not going to explain why all of this fascinates me because it’s a secret.  Only one person knows that secret…and he’s my blood.

Just 4 books?  Sheesh…well, #1 is easy.

1.  The Picture of Dorian Gray.  This book is oddly enough my lifesaver in understanding the pits of darkness that one can fall into.  It has made me understand things to the nth degree, and has helped me make decisions that were once difficult to make because I was drowing in my own sadness and misery.  It has helped me immortalize the beauty in the men I’ve loved, but also see how they can be so destructing to those who love them.  It’s made me understand my pain and work through it.  After all, I would not be in New York City right now if it wasn’t for that book.  No matter what phase of life I’m in, I always come back to this book because for some enlightened reason, it helps me to understand the loves of my life…and move on.

2. Eat, Pray, Love.  There are so many reasons why I love this book.  In a way, it’s like the story of the lives many of us live…that’s why the book and movie have been so popular.  We’re just trying to find a way out of our own darkness.  Whether it’s through food or meditation or just…love…we can find ourselves and learn to trust ourselves and to love again.  In a way, this book is like knowing that we’re not alone and all seeking our own truths to happiness in our lives…especially with just being happy being who we are…and loving every bit of it. 

3.  Love in the Time of Cholera.  I love the book and the movie.  Ironically, the actor who is in this movie, also starred in Eat, Pray, Love.  Such a passionate actor.  At any rate, what I love about this book is that it shows the passion of love…that undying love that will wait forever if it has to…just to be reunited with that one person they have loved since the beginning.  I think in a way, it reminds me of that feeling I have for my first love.  You are madly and passionately in love with them when you are young, you spend the rest of your life without them, and then at the end, you are reunited with them once again.  If you read today’s entry over at “Losing 100 Pounds of Unhappiness” called “In the Beginning…”  you would understand why I would be passionate about that story.  Some loves just never die…

4.  Shadows of the Wind.  All I can say is…this book is all about the love of books.  Throw in an insane mystery and I’m in love.  This book just filled the passion for books in me.  I love reading books about the love for books.  This book tops them all.  It’s the start of a series written by Carlos Ruiz Zafon.  It’s probably one of the greatest book recommendations anyone has ever given to me.

Picking 5 foods is a challenge, because of my sensitive stomach.  So here are the food items I love…that I can actually eat (or at least I force my body to like).

5.  Noodle Soups.  Ok…so I love Ramen noodle soups.  I could live on the various kinds from the cheapo ones at the grocery store to the rice vermicelli and rice noodle soups from the Chinese grocers.  I had to re-train my body to eat noodle soups.  It took close to three years before my body would play nice to my favorite instant meal.  Sure, people bitch about the sodium content, but it’s my way of getting the soup my Mom used to make at home.  Just add veggies and meat to the noodle soup and I’ve got a full course meal. 

I also love Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup…not the grown up version…the 50 cent can version.  Just add lemon juice and I’m a happy camper.  Cures what ails.

4.  Vietnamese, Thai & Indian Food.  I grew up with all three of these cuisines.  My mom was Thai, so I got authentic Thai food all of the time (trust me, not a fan of those American food nights).  When we lived in Chicago, our family was good friends with an Indian family, so I became a fan of a lot of different kinds of Indian food.  From 6th grade and on up, I fell in love with Vietnamese food, especially Pho. 

3. Curry.  I’m a big curry fan.  I prefer Thai curry, but I also love Indian curries.  I try not to eat the Thai version too much because the coconut milk is so fattening.  I love curry so much that I’ll eat it like soup…so long as it’s doused down with lemon juice.  Mmm…I think I’m going to go make a pot of curry after this challenge. 

2. Pad Kee Mao.  This Thai dish is the only dish that really hits the spot every single time.  I discovered that my stomach doesn’t like the consistency of thin noodles.  It’s so difficult to eat and not vomit up.  But Pad Kee Mao is a large flat noodle…but it’s the Thai basil that makes me sing with happiness.  Pad Kee Mao is also called drunken noodles.  It’s soo good.  It makes my mouth sing with happiness, especially when I douse it down with garlic chili sauce and vinegar.  Makes my tummy sing, “Yummy Yummy Yummy I’ve got food in my tummy.”  Trust me…it only sings this when I have Pad Kee Mao…no other dish.  {Note: food in my tummy without struggle…trust me…it sends pleasure signals all throughout my body because it’s so happy I could finally eat something.}

1.  Green Beans.  I have a very odd obsession with green beans.  I’m an addict.  I love green beans sauteed in garlic, olive oil and sea salt.  I even like the cheap version out of the can where it’s loaded down with salt and bacon fat.  Add green beans to any Asian dish…best part of the dish!  Yes, I love me some green beans.

My Inside Hockey correspondent and partner-in-crime, Winter Adams, came down to New York City a few weekends ago to do nothing more than sort through vintage and thrift store finds and eat cupcakes.  No really…she was eating cupcakes (not me). 

Lucky for me, Winter is absolutely beautiful (and a model), so I was able to do something fun for once…try my hand in taking more interesting ‘modelesque’ photos.  Of course, Winter was more than happy to oblige my photographing curiousity…and have fun with the photos.  Here’s some pics we took down in the Village.

{If slideshow does not start, click on the photo above and it will start the slideshow in a new window.}

6.  HOME.  Home is where the heart is.  I’ve spent so much time putting my home together, designing it, then re-designing it…that I can’t help but feel HOME when I am HOME.  When I first started off in my current apartment, I had NO FURNITURE, except for my mattresses, a couple of storage cabinets, some Ikea furniture, and a dresser.  I didn’t even have a TV.

My aunt and uncle gave me their old sofa and some folding chairs to sit on…then my brother dropped off an old TV since he was upgrading to flat screen.  Then over the course of the next few years, I started to add my own pieces of furniture, like the Exotic collection from Target.  Very sleek, looks expensive, but it’s very affordable. 

I bought my bed from Neiman Marcus’ furniture site, Horchow.  I bought my kitchen table and chairs from Target.com (cost me a pretty penny for it…$800 for the table, $400 for the chairs).  I even picked up the cutest desk from Target.com. 

Decorating it…I invested in artwork.  Lina Kasparaityte (Darius Kasparaitis’ sister) sold me a couple of her paintings before she left NYC to go back home.  I even pick up some items to go in the house every single time I travel.  It makes the apartment seem worldly.

There’s always something I’d like to upgrade or re-do, because as I accumulate more things, I need a new way to store them (like updating my office to turn it into a library, too). 

One thing is for sure, I do love the way my home has come along.  I’m always looking for a new way to update it so I don’t get bored or hate it.  I also make sure to fill it up with good energy so that I can feel relaxed, safe and happy when I’m at home.

5.  Paris, France.  The first time I ever went to Paris, I felt like I belonged in the city.  It was like I had lived there in a past lifetime and was re-visiting it after being away for so long. 

I love everything Paris has to offer…from French food, to the beautiful sites, to the beautiful, very chic Parisians, to the art, to the culture…I could just go on and on. 

{I so can’t wait to be back in Paris at the end of the month!}

4.  Prague, Czech Republic.  No doubt, I love Praha.  It is one of the most beautiful places in the world.  This is my home away from home.  I could go on forever about how much I love Prague…but you probably know that already.

3.  Santorini, Greece.  One of the most beautiful places in the world is Santorini, Greece.  This island is overrun by dogs.  I’m not kidding…there are dogs everywhere.  One of the best memories of being in Santorini was how this dog came up to me in Santorini, and licked my hand while I was looking at one of the churches.  I turned around and realized he could smell my dinner in my bag (leftover sausages).  That dog became our tour guide and showed us around all of the places in Oia, Santorini.  After our tour, I rewarded him with some of the sausages I had in my bag. 

Afterwards, he would take me to a certain point in Oia, where another dog picked us up, walked us to the next point, then another dog picked us up and took us back to the hotel.  The next morning, while tourists were playing with the dog that dropped us off at the hotel, he was actually waiting for us…and then it took us to our next stop, until they reached the end of their territorial ground…and then the next dog picked us up.

The german shepherd, I called him La Polizia…because we caught him going into the police station with two other dogs, maintained the entire region as the police dog…he was the Alpha-Dog. 

Sounds insane, right?  My friend said she would not have believed this story if it hadn’t happened to both of us.

 Believe it or not, they were acting as my guard/guide dogs.  One evening, while we were stopped outside of a store, this guy my friend had met earlier that evening (during dinner) came down the road.  The dog that was with me started growling.  I took a step back.  He then went running down the road toward the guy, sniffing and growling at him.  As the guy got closer to me, the dog ran back over to me and started putting himself between me and the guy, pushing me back towards the wall.  Four other dogs appeared out of nowhere and started growling and barking at the guy. 

All I got out of it was that the dogs were all saying he was bad news.  When my friend came out of the store to say hello to the guy, the dogs kept on growling at him.  I told my friend that maybe we should go.  So she said goodbye and went with me down the road.  I told her that I think that guy is bad news.  I told her what the dogs had done when he came down the road. That, if anything, was a huge sign the guy was bad news. 

If anything, Santorini is the island of the dogs…and they are all so cool.  I didn’t know until I saw the first dog that gave us a tour helping another man that was ill that the dogs only help people that are ill.  I have a feeling they smelled the cancer on me and that was why I got the royal treatment by all of these dogs.  They don’t care for tourists.  They keep out of their way.  But if the person is ill…they take care of them.  I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.

Besides the amazing sunsets and the beautiful shops…the dogs made this island one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been to in my life.

2. Rutherford, NJ.  I really love Rutherford.  It’s one of those nice, very quaint towns just 20 minutes from Midtown, Manhattan.  With cinemas that are $5 on the weekends (first showing) to 5 star restaurants up and down the main strip to a library that has seasonal book sales to the annual Labor Day Street Fair (filled with antiques, etc.), Rutherford is just one of those beautiful towns in the suburbs of New York City that make you say, “I LOVE THIS TOWN!”

1.  New York C ity.  You could live in NYC your entire life and still not be able to do everything that this town offers.  There’s always something new that pops up left and right.  How to spend your time?  If anything, I’ve had a great time in this city over the last 7 years. 

7. Ben Barnes.  Need I say more?

6.  The purses that will one day grace my closet…

5.  Christian Louboutin Nude Kitty Heels.

4. New Jersey Devils 2012 Stanley Cup Champions.  [After all, it is my final year covering hockey as a hockey writer.]

3.  Well, the dress kind of says it all, right?

2.  My dream house.  Located in Alpine, NJ. 

1.  The picture says it all…

This is Day 3 of the blog challenge.  Today is all about my 8 fears (in no real particular order)…

8.  Snakes.  I hate them.  They scare the crap out of me.  We spent a couple of years in Georgia back when I was a kid and survival 101 in the Blue Ridge Mountains…know how to kill a snake.  I’ve had way too many close calls with rattlesnakes and cottonmouth snakes to want anything to do with snakes again.  When I was in high school, Kevin (god rest his soul) decided that he wanted to go into the Snake House at the Cincinnati zoo.  It was Kevin…so I obliged, even though he knew I was scared to death of snakes.  He thought…maybe it would cure my fear. 

Remember that big ass snake in Harry Potter: The Chamber of Secrets?  Well, I took one look at that gigantic snake and covered my mouth.  Kevin came up to me and asked me if I was okay.  He said I went completely white. 

I freaked out and ran out of the Snake House and vomited in the trash can. 

Kevin felt so bad about coercing me to go into the Snake House with him that we spent the rest of our zoo visit watching the White Siberian Tigers (my favorite). 

7. Another terrorist attack.  After watching the first tower on fire and then a second plane go right into the second tower…that is traumatizing enough.  But when you’re sitting in a conference room in Tysons Corner, Virginia and then you get all psychic and say, “We need to stop focusing on New York.  Washington’s about to be hit.”  You know all hell’s about to really break loose (as in the panic button in my brain is about to go off).

What happened a few minutes later?  We watched as a plane went into the Pentagon. 

Then that fourth plane…we sat at our desks waiting…just waiting to find out if we were going to live or die in the next few minutes.  Luckily, some brave human beings took over that plane and saved Washington, DC.  For that, I can’t thank them enough. 

After the fourth plane went down, the uncertainty of what would happen next as America was under attack, left us with nothing more than to evacuate after we watched the twin towers come down on television.  Outside of our window, all we could see was the Pentagon on fire.

I lived in DC at the time.  I couldn’t even get home.  They had literally evacuated the city.  I ended up staying with a co-worker (thank goodness I always left extra clothes at the office). 

Since then, any thought of another terrorist act scares the hell out of me.  I don’t ever want to be in another one for so long as I live.  It really does strike terror in your soul.

6.  Losing My Brother.  Every time my brother goes off to war to serve our country, I always point out to him…you don’t have to do this.  He always tells me that he knows, but his squadron would never let it down if he didn’t go. 

Most people don’t have a choice when they go to war.  For my brother, he does.  He is the last in our bloodline.  That means that the bloodline dies with him.  Why is that his get out of jail card?  Well, because we have royal blood flowing through our veins…and we’re the last.

While the military always assures us that he will be kept away from the frontlines and in the most obscure spot that the war would not even come close to him, I still hate it when he goes.  Why?  Because, I’ve always felt like it was just me and Charlie.  If I were to lose him, I think I would honestly feel completely and utterly alone.  I really would have nobody if I lost him.

5. Ghosts, Poltergeists, Spirits.  I can handle slasher movies, demon movies, alien movies, and most horror flicks…but if the main premise deals with ghosts, poltergeists or spirits…I am scared shitless.  Why?  Because I believe in the afterlife.  I know that there are spirits that try to take over your body while you’re sleeping.  Want to know why the tradition of veiled women happened back in the olden days and still continues through to this day in Muslim societies?  Because way back when, spirits were known to steal beautiful women, impregnate them with their seed, and then you’ve got the monsters of the old days (giants and such).  They believed it so much that they tried to hide a woman’s face so that spirits wouldn’t try to impregnate their women.

No joke.  That’s why they started wearing veils way back when.

4. Having No Money.  This is a huge fear of mine.  Granted, I’ve lived in that situation before for a very long time.  I really don’t have to fear it anymore because I’ve made sure to protect myself in every single scenario that could possibly come up. 

But one thing I’ve learned over the years is that if you have the mindset to go out there and make money, even when you go completely broke, you know what to do to get your life back on track, making the same kind of money like you used to make.  In other words, if Donald Trump can be poorer than a bum on the street one day, and then rich again shortly after that, then by golly, I can do that too.

3. “THE” Dream Doesn’t Come True.  Girls know what I’m talking about.  We all have that dream that we’ll meet “The One” and marry him, make lots of babies, and have a happily ever after story to tell our grandchildren one day on how grandma and grandpa met and fell in love and lived happily married for 50+ years. 

This fear is something I think about several times a day…what if that guy that I dreamt about when I was 15…then crossed paths with when I was 25…and then knew WHO he was when I was 29…decided that he didn’t want me?    What’s even worse…what if he decided he wanted to be with somebody else?  What if I was wrong?  Maybe I should settle?

Dr. James Dobson said a long time ago, “If God gives you a vision, it’s meant to come true.” 

Back when I was 15, I had a dream of the man I was meant to spend the rest of my life with.  I saw his profession, all the way down to the company he would work for.  I saw the circumstances where he would leave for 3 years, but then he would come back.  I knew in my emotional state I would be mad as hell at him for leaving.  Actually, it would break my heart that he would leave.  I would then doubt that he was “The One” completely.  But he would come back and then it would work out.

At 25, the first time our paths crossed, I heard an angel say to me, “Tonight, you will see your future husband.  You won’t know it is him.  He will walk right past you and you won’t even know it’s him.  But four years from now, your paths will cross again.  When they say his name, you will know it is him.” 

Crazy little thing to hear, right?  Four years later, our paths did cross again.  The details from the dream from when I was 15 played into this as I knew his profession.  I was sitting there, feeling like an electrical force was pulsing through my spine, and it felt like the angels were excited, happy and singing…and then that’s when I heard his name, and I knew it was him.  It was exactly four years later. 

He left for three years, just like the dream said he would do (when I was 15)…and he came back.  Now, we’re at the rest of the story…right now, it still has me at the “MAD AS HELL” part, and being a little broken hearted thinking that he just wasn’t meant to be.  It was just a dream, that’s all.

The question would be…why would God show me some random man’s future when I was 15 years old if that man wasn’t meant to be in my life?  Why would an angel prophesy EXACTLY how our paths would cross…BOTH TIMES? 

All of the details have fallen into place, but I keep looking at the current details thinking…how can God expect me to have faith in something he’s created for me…when I see that there’s someone else in his picture?  How am I not supposed to doubt it all? 

The issue here with this dream…it’s hard to believe it’s meant to come true, even when you see each and every piece fall into place just like in the dream.  Really, this is the dream that scares me to death.  I’m afraid to believe in something so unbelievable for fear that it was just a dream and nothing more.

I’m afraid that it will do nothing more than make me feel like I wasted these last 20 years believing in God…that I wasted it on that feeling that there really was someone out there better for me…when I could have just married someone else 10 years ago.

2. No Food.  I think this fear stems from my childhood.  I always felt like I was starving.  Granted, it felt better when I actually starved myself on purpose.  These days, that fear comes when I travel.  I am so limited in the things that I can eat that it’s hard to find the foods that I can eat.  I mean…I can’t live on salad three times a day.  There’s not enough calories in it.  Besides, I prefer piping hot food to feel comforted. 

I also am so picky about my coffee.  Coffee is my backup plan when I’m traveling.  I can live on coffee (it’s piping hot and the stomach is comforted), but I can’t if it tastes horrible or I can’t figure out how to say coffee in a foreign language….then I’m screwed (imagine when I arrived in Prague and had no clue how to say coffee and the girl had no idea what I was talking about…I almost cried…thank God the NHL had coffee at O2 Arena…I spent so much time standing next to the coffee).

I never know how my stomach is going to react when I go someplace.  If it’s hot outside, then it swells up and I can’t eat.  Or if a country bases most of its food on carbs, then I’m really screwed.  I need protein and vegetables with little to no ‘bad carbs.’ 

Trust me, it takes an hour for me to eat one meal.  I freak out if there’s not enough water on the table.  Food, altogether, is my biggest fear…fear to not have it and fear that I can’t eat it. 

It’s an ongoing battle every single day.  In NYC, it’s not so bad, because my office’s cafe has a menu based on clean eating.  If I don’t eat there, I can go to Fresh and Co. which is also another clean eating establishment (clean=no additives of the bad kind, or pesticides, hormones, etc.).  I know where to pick up organic foods in the city and take them home.  When I travel…I really spend most of the time going from one grocery store to the next looking for something edible that I can eat…and I rarely, if ever, eat in public because of my fears that I won’t be able to eat the food (i.e. I’ll vomit).  Seriously…food is a huge fear of mine.

1.  Watching a hockey player get injured.  It all started that one fateful day during my first playoffs when I said, “Hmm…I wonder why Jaromir Jagr hasn’t left the game yet.  I thought he would have left the game by now.”  Not three seconds later he throws a punch into left field and dislocates his arm.  His arm just dangled there (I was so freaked out).  Since then, I have a superstition that if I say a player’s name during the playoffs…that player will be injured. 

I’ve seen Marty Brodeur and Kevin Weekes get injured (freaked me out).  There are the ones that get hit so hard they can’t even move or get back up from the ice.  Trust me…that stuff scares the crap out of me…no matter who’s getting hurt out there.

Today’s challenge is all about the 9 Loves you have.  Here are mine…

9.  Willy Wonka Candies.  Want to put a smile on my face? Give me Willy Wonka candies and I will be the happiest person on the planet.  SweeTarts, Nerds, Runts, Laffy Taffy, pixy stixs…if it’s Wonka…it makes me super happy! 

8. Valentino.  There is only one designer I put above all of the rest…it’s Valentino Garavani.  He designs clothing like he’s taken the essence of a beauty of a woman and intertwined it into each and every piece of clothing he designs.  He’s designed dresses for some of the most celebrated women in history…from Jackie Kennedy Onassis to Jackie Collins to Gwyneth Paltrow.  His red line is not only legendary, but his love for the beauty of a woman shines in every single collection. 

Valentino creates beauty out of love.  That’s why I love him so.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGJJRPWqvzM]

My first Valentino came in the form of a pair of Tiffany blue leather loafer kitty heels.  I picked them up from a sample sale site called Modnique.com for $80.  My next Valentino came in the form of a dress I got from the famous Outnet $2 anniversary sale.  I got a $4,385 Valentino dress for only $2.  My next Valentino came from a thrift shop online called Housing Works.  For $50, I picked up an emerald green cocktail dress. 

What I love most about the dresses, the silk…there is nothing so finer and softer than Valentino’s choice of silk. 

7.  Purses.  I love purses.  I have a collection.  Some women collect shoes.  I collect couture, designer and vintage bags.  I have the occasional cheapo bag from WalMart or a knockoff (no designer brand) that I find that just screamed…OH SO CUTE!  My favorite finds are always the vintage couture bags I find.  Lately, I’ve been sporting around my Fendi messenger bag I picked up from Bags Bonanza for $50.  The guy got it at an estate sale…he had no idea the bag originally went for over $1000.  I also am in love with my Louis Vuitton shopper sac.    I broke my 1 week only rule.  I carry a new bag every week.  This bag…I’ve been carrying around for the last 3 weeks.  It’s the perfect tote for me in so many ways.  This bag was also a vintage find I found at a vintage store in the Village…for $55.  How happy was I when I saw that Angelina Jolie is in love with her Louis Vuitton shopper sac too? 

I also love those little black leather handbags they used to make back in the 40s and 50s.  They were so classy and elegant.  Very Grace Kelly.  I just picked one up at the Housing Works Warehouse sale when Winter Adams threw it my way while we dug through mountains upon mountains of clothes for some really cool finds during Housing Works’ $25 bag sale.  Fill the bag up with whatever you find for $25. 

My next bag will, of course, come from my travels in London, Paris, Prague, Geneva and Morocco…but for Christmas, besides the new apartment furniture…I’m getting a Tiffany & Co. purse.  Yes, they make them now.

6.  Prague, Czech Republic.  I’ve been threatening to move there ever since I came back from my first visit to Prague back in 2008.  It was my first ever NHL road trip covering the New York Rangers and Tampa Bay Lightning.  I fell in love with Prague.  I really felt like Prague was my home when I was standing across the street from St. Thomas’ church.  It felt so weird and strange…like this is where I belonged. 

Since then, I may spend a couple of days here and there in Prague every year, just going someplace different each time.  The pe0ple there are so wonderful and helpful.  The majority of them speak English.  For those who don’t, they are more than happy to teach a few Czech words to me.  Granted, they laugh when I’m on the metro repeating the destinations out loud after the speaker announces each stop.  But they’re all very kind and always willing to help me out with the language when I’m shopping or lost.  But lately…I find I really don’t get lost in Prague.  I just find new streets to turn down to discover something new about the city. 

Prague is one of the most beautiful cities to photograph.  I usually like to grab a sandwich and a cappuccino before I start doing touristy stuff.  When I get tired, I’ll sit down at a monument or on some steps with a bunch of other locals and eat my sandwich with them as we watch the tourists walk by.  It’s rather amusing to say the least.  But I feel at peace when I’m sitting there taking in the beauty of Prague with the locals.

Next month will be my third trip to Prague.  Besides witnessing some Czech hockey versus the Rangers, I’ll be doing the more laborious climb to discover the monasteries of Prague.  Which means I’ll be drinking a lot of beer before heading back to Paris.

A little lesson I learned on my last trip…Pilsner beer originated from Plzen, Czech Republic…home of NHL stars Martin Straka and Petr Sykora.  I had my first Pilsner from Plzen on my last trip.  I’m sorry…but I’m still a Guinness girl. 

5.  My Grandfather.  My grandfather passed away in June 2007.  I miss him a lot…and think about him all of the time.  His Will created a huge controversy in my family…he left it all to his mistress of 30+ years.  Or did he?  My grandfather knew what would happen in the family, so he gave his last wishes to his girlfriend (the woman I’ve always known as ‘grandmother’), and she carried them out.  In a way, he was carrying out his big FUCK YOU to the family.  I totally admire that.  {Can’t wait to do mine…}

While the family judges me left and right, they will never understand the bond that I had with my grandfather, the patriarch of our family.  He was the one that told me to go after my dreams…and only my dreams.  When I feel like getting off of my path in life, I always hear him saying in the back of my mind that nothing will ever work out in life unless I am on my path in life.  He told me that a month before he died. 

To me, he gave me the greatest treasure I will ever have in my life by passing on the words of wisdom on how to have the most amazing life filled with riches.  I didn’t need a check or a house or whatever else he left for me.  I only needed those words of wisdom, because it changed my entire life for the better.

There is a story back home about a man that owned half of Indianapolis.  He rented out a lot of those homes to the poor and gave them an opportunity to buy those homes by renting to own.  He was actually considered one of the richest men in Indianapolis. 

When I heard that story, I didn’t know who that man was.  I was in shock when my grandfather’s next door neighbor told me that the man in that story was actually my grandfather.  He had sold all of the homes he bought (except the one he was living in) when I went off to college.  He said the reason why he did it was because I told my grandfather that if he wanted to see the world…to just do it.  He liquidated almost all of his assets to travel the world during the last 15 years of his life.

Some of this stuff should have just made sense to me.  I should have connected the dots, but it was my grandfather’s next door neighbor that explained it all to me.

The point of that neighbor’s conversation lie more in…you inspire your grandfather more than you realize you do.  You inspire him to have a greater, happier life…to pursue love and happiness. 

He never would have traveled all over the world, if I hadn’t told him to do it (after all, he was always sending me all over the world and depending on my stories and pictures after I got home).  Now, we have a Napoleon box filled with coins and postage stamps from all over the world (believe it or not, there’s some Nazi money in there too from the time he served for the US in World War II).  Each time I come back from my trips around the world, I dump a bunch of coins into that box.  It’s like I’m still keeping our world travel traditions going.

I also keep photos of my grandfather in my home.  There are a lot of them.  I have very few pictures of me and my brother or other family members.  Instead, I have a whole home filled with photos of my grandfather from the time he was a baby…or from the places he visited when he traveled the world…they’re all there to remind me of who I am and who I’ve become. 

I miss him a lot, but I always know that his legacy is still imprinted on my heart and in my soul.

4.  The Diva.  Her name is Surita.  She’s the cat, aka the Diva, Princess, Queen of my domain.  She’s been with me for the past decade.  She’s been from one place to the next to the next to the next.  I still feel bad that I moved her out of Indiana.  She loved our little cottage there.  She figured out how to open and close the door on her own, so she’d spend all night lurking around in the woods next to the house, communing with nature and the other animals around it.  I once walked out to see her hanging out with a gigantic otter…or beaver…I don’t know what it was, but it was HUGE. 

When we were getting ready to pack up the van and go to New York, she was the last thing I put in the van.  I left her in the van (in her cage, mind you), ran to the house to lock the door, came back to find her laying in the middle of the street, refusing to go.  She was mean as hell about it.  But after some coaxing and the constant reminder that if she didn’t come with me, she would have no one to take care of her…she finally relented and got back in the van.

Her protest in Ohio lasted a good 10 minutes before she realized I would leave her there.  The ongoing traffic at the rest stop scared her into realizing she had to come with me. 

Since we’ve been in NYC, she’s adjusted to the apartment life.  When I think of buying a house nearby, I think about the backyard she could trample around in.  She could go back outside and enjoy mother nature once again.  Until then, she’ll just be my fat cat that is such a great friend to me in an apartment that she apparently OWNS.

3. Cartoons.  I’ll admit that I embrace my inner child on a regular basis.  I love cartoons.  As of late, I’m a bit loyal to Phineas and Ferb.  I love Jimmy Neutron, Disney cartoons, Spongebob, South Park, and The Simpsons.  I also love kids movies that usually come in the form of a Disney animated movie. 

2.  My library.  Well, I’m a writer, so it’s kind of expected that I would have a library of my own, right?  I don’t just have a book library, but I also have a movie library.  I also keep my entire library in an excel spreadsheet so I can take the lists with me when I hit up the library’s seasonal book sale (so I don’t buy the same book again), and for when I go on a DVD binge and can’t remember if I own the movie or not.  The spreadsheet also helps me to keep track of the books that I’ve read.  Comes in very handy when I make New Year’s Resolutions or add an author’s collection to my bucket list. 

1. Life.  Each and every day I’m reminded how much I love life.  From the advancements in mankind, to watching the wind blow through the reeds, to the sights and sounds of everyday life…I really enjoy life. 

It’s been a lot of fun in this lifetime.  I’ve always said that life is what you make of it.  You can choose to have a good, happy life, or choose to be miserable.  It is a choice, not a condition.  Sure, there are people that are not as fortunate, but even a child could create a game from rocks or sticks when there are bombs falling around his home.  You can see beauty even in the most horrible conditions.  You can find happiness within even when your body is being tortured.  Loving your life is a choice.

I choose to be happy, despite the misery surrounding me.  I want to love this life and do anything and everything that I possibly can before this life is done.  I want to enjoy every single second of it.  I just love living.

It’s come to the attention of the Hockey Wives Club that there’s a new blogger purporting to be a hockey wife from the New York Rangers.  “She” decided to blog thanks to the “Hockey Wives Club” post. 

Interestingly enough, the bio reads like it came directly from the actual post I wrote…as well as what you see in the introduction. 

While it talks about the wives sticking together, the latest post talking crap about another hockey wife’s blog is just poor taste, especially since it’s coming from an anonymous blogger claiming that they are a hockey wife.  Actually, the blog is borderline PUCK BUNNY.

Really…a New York Ranger read the Hockey Wives Club post and thought his wife should start blogging too? 

Then the whole dish that there’s a rumor that Chris Drury’s wife was having an affair with another New York Ranger?  A certain goalie’s girl is really a lesbian?  Not sure how Henrik Lundqvist or Martin Biron are going to react to hearing that.  Really…WHAT THE BLIMEY FUCK? 

That’s not a hockey wife’s blog, because most hockey wives would NEVER WRITE THAT CRAP for the world to see.  Gossip or not, that is stuff that should NEVER be put out there on the net. 

You claim to be on the hockey wives side, siding with the wives, because you’re all family…and then you go and trash one of them on your site? 

If you’re really a wife of a New York Ranger, you may have just cost your husband his job.  If you’re a faker…well, I’ve already emailed your little blog along to the Rangers.  Let’s see what they say about it afterwards…

A few of the blogging hockey wives decided to start a blog challenge where over the course of the next 10 days, they post up 10 different things about themselves that you may or may not know about them.  I thought it was fun, so I thought I’d tag along for the challenge.

Here are the 10 challenges:

Day 1: 10 secrets
Day 2: 9 loves
Day 3: 8 fears
Day 4: 7 wants
Day 5: 6 places
Day 6: 5 foods
Day 7: 4 books
Day 8: 3 films
Day 9: 2 songs
Day 10: 1 picture

A couple of the hockey wives participating are: Tales of a Hockey Wife and Hugging the Post 56.

So without further adieu, here are my 10 Secrets.

10.  I have a few scars on my legs from when I was in Thailand (back from when I was 9 years old).  My mother and I went there to visit family that summer.  While we were there, I contracted malaria…thanks to the conditions we were in out in rural Korat and the mosquitoes biting through the net to get to me.  My mom woke up in the middle of the night and saw mosquitoes lined up on my legs and arms while I was sleeping.  She commented that my blood must be sweet, because they were only coming after me, and no one else under the netting.  As a result, I got sick, and wound up with scars the size of quarters on both of my legs.  Despite what the Dalai Lama says about killing mosquitoes…I will kill before being eaten alive again.

9.  I played basketball in junior high and high school.  In high school, I didn’t play for the school’s team.  I played for the all-star league in the Midwest.  That meant that I was on my own the majority of the time to train and practice (the high school girls basketball coach was my P.E. teacher, so she let me out of P.E. to practice on my own for the league).  I also had a private basketball coach to work with me during the week.  I practiced with my teammates on the weekends in gymnasiums over an hour away from where I lived.  I played for the top team for several years.  By my senior year, we fell into second place in the finals.

8.  I can sing.  After college, I enrolled in a music school in Washington, DC.  I graduated as their number one student…expected to take Broadway by storm.  As life would have it, I wanted to pursue something else after I moved from DC.

7. I used to work in politics.  Actually, it was my first job.  When I left politics in DC, a couple of senators on an elevator were talking about me.  One of my friends happened to be on the elevator at the time and heard one of the senators say, “That’s sad that she’s leaving politics, but I know whatever she sets her mind to do, she will be amazing.”  That was one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard anyone say about me.  After I left DC, I ended up in politics again when I stayed in Indiana for three years.  I actually got the appointment because of my political background in DC.  When they asked me what my registered party affiliation was…I pleaded the fifth and ended up working for the OTHER party.  That’s what the senators loved about me…I was a “Democrat” working for the Republican Party.  They said that it was a smart choice hiring me, because it helped them to bridge the gap in understanding what the Democrats were trying to do.  Truthfully, I’m a middle of the road kind of voter.  I’ll vote either way, just so long as I’ve done my research on the candidate.  I don’t let party affiliations blind me or how I will vote.

6.  Wonder why those Senators on Capitol Hill spoke so highly of me?  I used to throw luncheons.  As in…I invited presidential candidates to these luncheons, where select members of the media were allowed to meet with each individual candidate and talk politics.  Not so bad for a 23 year old, right? 

5.  I produced and starred in a production of “The Vagina Monologues.”  Let’s just say that I crossed two things off of my list of things I wanted to do in this lifetime: 1) produce a play and 2) star in a hit play.

4.  I used to be broke.  When I say broke…I mean…I was working for the government making $24,000 a year broke.  My mom felt so bad for me that she used to bring me food.  Trust me, I was starving all of the time.  I dropped 20 pounds in the first 6 months working for the government.  Between paying for my college loans, a roof over my head, utilities that were more than the cost of the roof over my head…I had practically NO MONEY to even buy food.  Rockstars used to give me money to help them out.  One of them paid me $50 just to hand out fliers, because he came by my house and saw that I had NO FOOD in my kitchen.  He had seen that I had dropped a bunch of weight, so he thought the reason why was because I wasn’t able to afford food (so right he was).  Rockstars always put me on their VIP lists so that I could get into their shows for free.  One of the things I learned from my experience here…I NEVER want to be that broke again.  That’s why I left politics for good…so I could make a good living in the private sector.

3. I don’t talk to anyone in my family except my younger brothers.  I have two.  One is 29 years old, the other one is 16 years old.  Charlie (the eldest of the two), I talk to most of the time.  I think it’s because he can relate to what I’m going through.  He gets along with everybody.  But as my Mom used to say…she thinks he just feels bad for me.  Why?  Well, I’m the black sheep in my family.  I didn’t marry at the age of 18.  I don’t have children.  I chose a career.  I’m the first woman to go to college.  I don’t believe in Christianity.  My family…they’re the backasswards type that’s prejudiced.  They are a sexist family that hides behind their religion.  Watching True Blood and those hick families on there…totally reminds me of my family.  They’re sexists, racists, and every other ‘ists’ out there.  Me…I’m not like that.  I can’t stand people like that…which means I can’t stand my family.  As you can see, I’m not 100% white.  I wasn’t born a boy.  I’m a female that defied their beliefs.  Why do you think I live in New York City?  People here are more like me…they’ve evolved.  My family is not normal.  They’re in that other world that us city dwellers fear to tread.  I also think they hate the fact that I ‘appear’ better than them.  They like to snap at you and say the most hateful things to bring you down to that ant they’re stepping on.  And yeah…it does hurt a lot because you have no idea where that hate came from when it’s aimed at you.  After reading all of that…just imagine what they say about female hockey writers.  Believe it or not, they think I’m a liar.  I don’t cover hockey.  I’m not in that locker room.  I dont’ travel for NHL games to cover them.  After all, why would a woman get into hockey to begin with unless she’s stalking players or looking for her hockey player husband?  [Yep, that’s what they said TO ME!]  Kind of hard to have a family that doesn’t believe in you, calls you a liar (when you’re telling the truth and always have told the truth).  Why?  Because women don’t do that stuff…you know…get into sports and all  [understand why a) I don’t talk to them and b) I live in NYC?]

2. I am almost done with my bucket list.  If I had only 100 things on my bucket list, I would be done by now.  I started the tradition years ago.  I look at the bucket list every New Year’s.  I highlight the things I’ve done, and add a few more things I’d like to do.  Every now and again I think that when I finish that bucket list, I’ll be done with this lifetime.  I think that’s why I keep adding a few more things.  But as each New Year comes, I find that of those three things I’ve added, there are 35 things I have completed.  It’s just a reminder that I’m living my dreams…but then again…I see I’m running out of dreams to live.

1.  I hate cooked carrots.  With a passion…I hate cooked carrots.  When I was five, and while my brother was still baking in the oven, my Dad decided to chip in and cook for once.  He was on this super organic, healthy food kick (this was when being healthy just tasted so awful).  He made cooked carrots…and he burned them.  He told me I couldn’t leave the table until I ate all five of the huge burned carrots piled on my plate.  I tried.  I really did.  After about an hour, sitting at the table by myself after my parents had already left the table, my mom came in, saw me trying to eat the carrots…and crying…she finally said I could go.  She told me not to tell my dad (and she threw the rest of the carrots away).  While my mom and I were laying on the couch watching television, I started to feel that rumbling in my stomach.  I jumped up and ran to the bathroom (stepping on my baby bro in his oven on the way).  I threw up…and I threw up ALL NIGHT LONG.  It was officially the worst moment of my entire life!  Since then, I will not eat cooked carrots.  My dad laughs because I won’t eat cooked carrots and cites that moment from my childhood.  I still look at him and think…that’s not all I won’t eat…I won’t eat his cooking…PERIOD.  I think “INSTANT FOOD POISONING” when I think of his cooking.  I’d trust my life with a NY food cart or Taco Bell before I’d trust my Dad’s cooking…and I have a very sensitive stomach.

It’s been a while since I posted a musing, so I thought I’d do something non-hockey related because I’ve been musing a lot about non-hockey related things.

1.  Name: Ben Barnes.

Is it humanly possible for a man to get any better friggin looking?  You may know this man as Prince Caspian from the Chronicles of Narnia movies (part 2 & 3).  When I first saw Barnes, I thought…no, I prayed…that he wasn’t some 16 year old that I was having a lot of naughty thoughts for after seeing Prince Caspian in the movie theaters. 

Thank goodness he was in his late 20s!  Barnes just turned 30 years old on Saturday.  And lo and behold…he cut his long Prince Caspian hair and turned into a teenager again.

Forever young, maybe?  I didn’t think God could make anyone so beautiful. 

He’s currently in Connecticut filming his next movie “The (Big) Wedding.”  But the movie I want to see now?  When I’m not lusting after a Prince Charming…Knight In smoldering hot Shining Armor (like this guy):

I really want to see his latest film “Killing Bono.”  I had to laugh when I saw the title, because it’s about a band that went to high school with U2.  They wanted the U2 success…and hated that U2 got their success.  Looks to be an incredibly funny movie with Barnes starring as my favorite kind of guy…a rockstar.  And of course, you know how I love U2 and Bono…

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TGCOryLwgiY]

2.  Name: Constantine Maroulis.

You may remember him from American Idol.

FYI, he’s my all-time favorite American Idol.  He’s also the only American Idol I’ve ever encountered at a random party.  Then again, if you know me, this should not surprise you.  Why?  Because it’s just how my universe works. 

Remind me to tell you about the time I ran into the Bachelor outside of my house in Indianapolis…and then again when I moved to NYC.  I mean literally…he was right outside of both places and HE stopped to talk to ME both times.  Although, the first time…was probably his most embarrassing moment in his entire lifetime!

At any rate, Constantine will be playing at the Highline Ballroom on September 9th.  And who’s got tickets?  MOI! 

Ever since Rock of Ages…my gawd…you would have to be insane to pass up a Maroulis show.  I mean…if you love rock and roll…you will love him.  He stirs up that rock and roll magic deep down in your soul and just makes you explode with love for rock music.

Here’s a recent clip of Constantine performing Jersey’s own Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer.”

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=4f8UcmGUoxA]

You also have to see this clip from Disney.  All I can say is…I have to buy one of those Rock Star Mickeys.  It’s for the future littl’un (not for me).  Sheesh.

I’ll be sneaking my camera into the show on 9/9 to take some pics of Constantine, so stay tuned. 

3. Rockstars.

Do you see a recurring theme here?  Something about rockstars?  Well…there may be a reason for it. 

As I ponder how I’m going to shape my future as I move on to the next stage in life, something I don’t want to leave out this time is the rock and roll lifestyle.  I can’t even begin to explain how much I miss it.  It’s been in the back of my mind ever since I saw Rock of Ages on Broadway. 

I used to be so passionate about music.  When I was working at the Capitol building, I would get messages and phone calls from rockstars all day long.  The Senate staffers would all laugh and play the ‘let’s guess which rockstar is calling this time.’

You know, it was actually nice being so in demand all of the time…and so in demand by all of these rockstars.  What girl wouldn’t love that?  Hell, I did.

I sometimes think back to the day a few years ago when a band pursued me all the way to New York City to ask me to manage them.  It was a band I really believed in, and a band I expected to make it big.  Saying “No” to the lead singer was a tough thing to do.  It was like breaking someone’s heart.

I had to explain that I came to NYC not for music, but for myself.  I needed to start a new life. 

But the way this universe works of mine…if you think rockstars haven’t been lurking in the corners of my life over these past 7 years I’ve been in NYC, think again.  They keep cropping up left and right.  Even when I walk away, they still creep back in.  To me, that’s a sign from God…never forget your passions in life…and I was very passionate about rock music.

Reading “Super Rich” by Russell Simmons reminds me of who I was.  It reminds me of the paths I changed in life, and the paths that could open up to me if I kept pursuing my passions in life.  You should always do the things you love more than anything.  Do it for free if you have to…just as long as you’re doing it.  That’s all that really matters in life.  Doing the things you love and are passionate for.  Do what you love.

All of this means that I’m allowing rock music back into my life as I move into the next phase.  Whatever that path in music may be, it will be defined and re-defined as I enter the new phase.  Even if that new phase is just being passionate about music again, then so be it. 

It’s just…you can’t help but notice when rockstars keep popping back into your life again and again and again.  The universe is trying to say something.

It’s been almost 2 years since I allowed myself to sit in front of a camera.  I decided that it was long overdue…so I took about 1000 pictures today.  You read that correctly 1000 pictures…and I took them all. 

No, I don’t hold the camera.  I program the camera to take the shots for me.  Lovely little device this camera is…

I also discovered a fun little program called PhotoScape.  It’s a free program that you can download from CNET.  It actually does wonders with photos from adding borders to adding effects like cinematic stills and antique prints (my personal favorite). 

I wrote over on Losing 100 Pounds of Unhappiness why I decided to finally sit in front of the camera again.  Sometimes you have to remind yourself that when you’re beating yourself up over how you’re a fat slob…sometimes you have to let the camera be the judge.  Sometimes you have to let the camera show you that you’re still a beautiful person, no matter how much you tell yourself you’re anything but.

Here is the first batch from the 1000 photos that survived my delete button. {If slideshow doesn’t start with the first big ass pic (no, there are no pics of my ass on here)…just click on the photo and it will start up the slideshow in a new screen.}

These two are my favorites so far:

Ok…and maybe this one too.

Ah…the off-season.  What a great time for hockey players (or agents) to get themselves into some trouble.  Here’s what happened in case you missed it…

1.  Mike Richards Is Not a Happy Camper.  Last week, Philadelphia Flyers Captain Mike Richards was traded to the LA Kings.  In exchange, the Flyers received prospect Brayden Schenn, Wayne Simmonds and an undisclosed draft pick. 

Trades happen all of the time.  It’s part of the business…oops…but don’t tell that to Mike Richards.

He may be a little pissed off that he was traded.  His bio on Twitter changed to: “EX-Philadelphia Flyers Captain, LA King forward now.”  I like how he put the EX- in capital letters.

He tweeted last night, “@MRichie18: Really starting to get annoyed by everyone keep saying to me that “it’s just business””  Of course, this was a few days after the shock subsided and the reality sunk in.  At first, he tweeted, “Thanks to everyone in Philly for a great 6 yrs. What a great city and an awesome place to play. #NHL #flyers”  But after last night’s tweet, I wouldn’t be surprised if there were some ramifications for tweeting his annoyance.

Just ask Alex Burrows and Sean Avery about speaking so freely, or Aaron Voros about tweeting pictures of a half naked Henrik Lundqvist.  They got in trouble.

2. Sean Avery 2, Uptown Hockey -1.   While New York is celebrating the new law allowing for same sex marriage, Uptown Hockey has lost a client because of their anti-gay comments.

Last month, Sean Avery became part of the campaign to legalize same sex marriage in the State of New York.  Whether you were a fan of Avery or not, this was a good thing.  Sean became the first professional athlete to support gay marriage rights in the State of New York.  The New York Rangers followed suit in support.

But don’t think the bigots didn’t come out of their shell to speak up against Avery.  On their official twitter feed, Uptown Hockey tweeted:  “Very sad to read Sean Avery’s misguided support of same-gender “marriage.” Legal or not it will always be wrong.”

The hockey realm and gay rights advocates went into an uproar over these comments. 

Not only did fans and media spit on Uptown Hockey and everything they represent, but they have now officially lost their first client BECAUSE of their remarks about Sean Avery.  Andrew Brunette has FIRED Uptown Hockey citing the Sean Avery mess as THE REASON.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qGGH3M9NKBI]

Way to go Brunette!  Now, if the rest of their clients would step up and make the same decision.

It’s one thing to have a personal opinion, but quite another to tweet it on the agency’s official Twitter feed as if that is your company’s stance…and then stand by the comments when you’re questioned by the world.

3.  Montreal Is Not Done With Chara Yet.  Oh boy, the Naked NHLer still has legal problems in Montreal for his hit on Max Pacioretty.  The Montreal police have launched an official investigation into the hit, now that the season is over and they can contact the players that were there when it happened.

They will take the information gathered and submit it to the Crown prosecutor who will decide if a formal accusation will be made against Zdeno Chara.

According to the ‘victim’ Max Pacioretty, he tweeted this: “@MaxPacioretty67: Last comment on this: I hope Chara is NOT prosecuted. I have moved on from my incident and I hope everyone else can do the same.”

Just a quick note to all…you may notice that the way I’m doing things here has changed since my writing season has begun.  Usually the best dressed list comes out right about now (which will…), but even the way the best dressed list is done this year is going to be very different. 

In the previous Musings post, I discussed talking to NHL alumni.  Georges Laraque and I have been talking about allowing him to blog more (on a bigger platform) where media can pick up on his latest musings.  He agreed to do some writing for this site (his idea).  So you’ll be seeing Georges featured on here every now and again.

I’ve also asked some of the AHL guys and alumni to help me with the Best Dressed list.  They’ll be submitting their picks to me soon.  One alumni has already given me his picks from the red carpet last week (ironically, we agreed 100% on this list). 

All in all, this site is going to allow players/alumni to have a sounding board to talk about whatever they want to talk about.  That is the new direction this site is going.  It is becoming more ‘player’ friendly.

You’ll also be able to find photos, player interviews, and Inside Hockey exclusives linked up on here. 

My hopes are that YOU (the fans) will enjoy and learn more about hockey from some of the best around from their point of view.

~MK~

Our worth in the world has always been tied to our looks…not the amazing miracle of mere existence. – Courtney E. Martin

I picked up a copy of Geneen Roth’s “Women Food and God” from the library the other day.  She referenced this book so much in another book I just completed reading: “Lost and Found.”  I thought I’d give it a try in an effort to understand her money book.  Of course, I originally thought that I didn’t need to read a book on why people overeat.  But ironically, I found a reference to why I find myself in the predicament I’m in.

Simply put, the reason why so many of us have issues today is because we didn’t truly experience the pain when the incident occurred.  Instead of feeling whatever emotion we were supposed to have felt back then, we suppress it.  We end up finding solace in other things to keep us from acknowledging and feeling what we should have felt.

Instead of living in this very moment, we let the past clutter up our present…as if it were happening right now.  We would rather distract ourselves from re-living the past by eating, boozing, or getting high.  We find other substances that will make us feel good because what happened in our past is an event that doesn’t make us feel happy.

We distract ourselves.  We feel like a victim, even though what happened to us happened so long ago.  We act as if it still effects us now, even though we are safe from the act ever happening to us again.

We get caught up with the drama of the situation…some of us re-think what we would have done differently, what we would have said to change what happened.  But the truth is, we can never change what happened.  It happened and it hurt us.

I’ll admit that when I was sexually assaulted, I blamed myself.  If I wasn’t pretty or thin, this would not have happened.  If I wasn’t so numb from losing my first love to suicide just a few months before, I could have avoided the entire situation.  I was mourning something I had lost…and someone took advantage of me. 

He thought that NO meant it was okay to keep going.  Even when I tried to fight him off, he thought I was playing around, which encouraged him to become more aggressive.  He wasn’t my boyfriend.  I had a boyfriend.  That didn’t stop him even when my boyfriend told him to leave me alone.

It didn’t happen just once.  It happened several times throughout the first semester of my freshman year in college. 

I felt dumb and stupid that I let someone make me into a victim.  I felt weak and like some stupid farm girl in a big city.  What else could I expect?  If I wasn’t from dumb fuck, Indiana, this would have never happened to me.

There are a lot of men that have told me in the past that they know something happened to me.  They could sense it.  They just didn’t know what had happened. 

I can only remember what happened afterwards.  The university decided that they had to protect me by teaching me how to protect myself.  Security not only hung around, they also taught me how to fight for myself and to get out of dangerous situations.  The university also advised me to seek counseling, so I spent a lot of time with the school psychiatrist only to be diagnosed as having post-traumatic stress disorder.  I couldn’t remember what had happened, but the emotional trauma was present.  The extreme fear was there.

Being in court for two years and being forced to face the guy that completely broke my mind and my innocence was difficult.  It took two years before the Dean of Students stepped in and permanently expelled him.  That asshole creep’s parents called the Dean asking him to intervene, calling me every bad word in the book…saying that I was faking and telling lies…my roommate (who hated me) confirmed it. 

The university knew the truth, because they were the ones submitting me to psychiatric evaluation and the reports belonged to them.  The Dean called the meeting that lasted two days.  After the second day, he threw everyone out of his office and told that jerk that he was expelling him.  He told me to wait in his office while he moved the others out.

When he came back he told me that the university was siding with me in this matter, because I had been exhibiting signs since I first reported it that he had done something horrible to me.  He said, “All you were asking for was for all of this to stop.”  He apologized that the university didn’t step in sooner and allowed this to go on for two years.  He said, “Your story was the only story that anyone here believed.”

I  walked out of his office and found out a few weeks later that the university had decided to comp the last two years of my stay there.  They felt somewhat at fault for not protecting me during my second year when I found that jerk a few feet from my dorm room.

Not too long ago I googled that jerk and found out that he had tried out for “The Apprentice” and was on another TV show.  I had fun reading the reviews from websites and blogs.  Everyone hated him.  If anyone was the equivalent of what a douchebag really was…oh, this guy took the cake. 

He was trying to make it big in reality TV. The funny thing is that NBC canceled the show because of him.  That, to me, was sweet justice.  It actually made me smile after all of these years of being afraid.

That’s what this is really all about.  Not being afraid anymore.

Confronting your biggest demon and slaying it is probably the biggest mountain that anyone can climb.  Some victims turned to food as solace.  Me, I was afraid to eat.  I was afraid to be happy.  I was afraid to get into relationships.  I was afraid to be successful.  I was afraid to just live the life that was meant for me.

Another part of me that was hurting and in pain was that I never was able to truly mourn Kevin’s death.  I had so many questions.  “WHY?” being the number one question.  It’s hard when someone you love decides to end their own life.  It makes you believe that you weren’t good enough for them to continue living for you.  That’s why I hate that song that talks about how they would die for you.  Why can’t you live for me?  What’s wrong with that?

It took me 7 years to ask why he committed suicide.  His decision had something to do with me.  He had flunked out of Ball State Academy and his father said that if he didn’t keep his grades up, he would bring him home.  Kevin had kept quiet from me that his father was abusive.  He had escaped to Ball State to escape the beatings. 

In his suicide note on why he was making this decision he said that I was going off to college in the fall and leaving him alone.  He chose death over going home for one year to live in the same house as his father.  If I had gone to a college in Indiana, things might have been different.

I have a right to be mad at him for not telling me about his abusive father.  He could have finished his last year of high school in Washington, D.C. while I was in college.  There was no need to put a bullet through his heart.  We could have worked things out and survived.

But as much as his decision had something to do with me…I just wish I had a say in the matter.

I can imagine how different life would have been.  What happened during my freshman year would have never happened.  I probably would have ended up marrying Kevin and having the time of my life.

But those weren’t the cards dealt to me, now were they?

Roth was saying in her book that sometimes these things happen to test our connection (and spirituality) with God.  The disconnect allows us to become stronger after suffering from our greatest weaknesses.  It also pushes us to find meaning in our pain.  To find that we are not special can bring any person’s world to a crashing halt.

To give you a time frame on the series of events…Kevin killed himself in May 1994, two weeks before my high school graduation.  In September, a few short months later, that was when the attacks began.  They ended in January 1995 when I finally reported it to the police.

I was numb for a very long time.  A decade later, I was still numb to what it was I felt and what I should do with my life.  It wasn’t until my grandfather’s 90th birthday that he told me that he knew something had happened to me in college and was hurt that I never told him.

At 90 years old, he still couldn’t get me to tell him what had happened.  Some things I just wasn’t brave enough to face. 

He talked about my dreams that were thrown to the wayside and how I had gotten off my path in life.  He knew that I was destined to be a famous singer and actress, but I threw it all away.  It broke his heart that I had, but he knew something terrible must have happened for me to stop living.

That exact moment was when I found out that Kevin shot himself. 

After my grandfather’s death, my life changed.  I took 6 months off to pull myself back together.  I actually took 6 months to grieve my grandfather.  Those were 6 months I never had to grieve Kevin. 

In those 6 months, I learned how to live again.  I had the help of a very famous celebrity.  We were both trying to pull our lives back together and we did it together.  She helped me land my first writing gig.  And I helped her get back into the studio again.  She even took a few cameo acting gigs.

Now, she’s on a worldwide tour selling out arenas in every city.  And somewhere in the back of our minds, we have each other to thank for learning from each other on how to live again.

These days, I still have demons to face and emotions to feel.  I also need to acknowledge that I am healing.  I’ve been taking every step I can take over these last 3 years to heal. 

But now, I have to remind myself that it isn’t the past that makes me feel alive, it is the present.  It is my mere existence, not how I look that is more important.  My existence is what I value, not how I look. 

Losing 100 pounds of Unhappiness is a dream…it’s a mountain I’m climbing.  The deeper I dig into that unhappiness and throw it out, the closer I get to reaching the top of that mountain. 

There have been setbacks and frustrations all along this climb, but I haven’t given up.  I’m still pushing forward and learning everything that I can to understand how to be successful.  I also understand that my failures mean that I have to try to tackle this mountain another way.

A dream made into a reality takes a lot of energy and hard work.  We all have a mountain to climb in an effort to reach the top and be victorious.

Just like I taught myself how to manage my finances and accomplish being able to have more than enough…I also understand that you can’t climb those mountains overnight.  It takes a lot of patience and a lot of time to reach the summit.  After all, it took a while to institute changes in my financial behavior in order to have success.  It took a lot of practice, practice, practice to get it right and to reap from its rewards.

I remember when I first started to climb that financial mountain, I thought of how huge it looked at the very beginning.  But once I got to the top, I realized just how easy it was to get there.  But I also remember what work I had to put into it to get there.

This unhappy mountain is probably the biggest hill I’ve ever had to climb.  But I know when I make it to the top, I’ll think back at how what seemed so hard ended up being easier than I thought it was.  I just had to learn how to climb that hill and realize that I did not have to take the hard and long way up. 

If anything, if Kevin hadn’t died and if I hadn’t had those miserable college years, I wouldn’t have been able to relate to a lot of people.  We all have some sort of pain.  We have to choose to either live in the pains from the past or live now in the present moment, knowing that what happened cannot be changed, but we can change how we think and feel about it. 

We can grow into a stronger human being by defeating the demons within. We can find happiness in our own sorrow.  We can smile again after being afraid for so long.  We can live again after being so numb. 

We can choose to live and be happy. 

I choose to not let that asshole make me afraid of being innocent or being a woman anymore.  I choose to love what I have lost, but know that I too was loved greatly by someone in this lifetime.  I can learn to love others just as I was loved.  From Kevin’s love for me, I can learn to love like he loved me. 

I choose to not let the events of the past dictate my current state of being.  Those events are irrelevant.  I choose to live in the moment and let go and forgive those that have transgressed against me.

I choose freedom from fear and freedom from pain.  I choose happiness.

I’m currently reading “Lost and Found” by Geneen Roth.  She was a victim of Bernie Madoff’s Ponzi scheme.  When I first noticed her story, it was in O magazine. 

She had selected a poem called “Kindness” by Naomi Shihab Nye for Caroline Kennedy’s guest editorial tribute to poetry to celebrate her book “She Walks In Beauty” (a collection of poems).  Shortly after the release of this issue, Schwarzenegger and Kennedy split up. 

In an odd way, that poem “Kindness” and Geneen Roth came back to me.  I randomly picked up Roth’s latest book at the library.  Why?  Because it goes along with my practices in life…food and money are two and the same to me. 

I had no idea that Roth was the same person that had been taken in by Madoff just like so many others had.  This is the same woman that chose the poem “Kindness” to get her through losing millions of dollars she had invested in Madoff so that she and her husband would have a pleasant retirement.

But what came about after finding out that her money had been tied into a Ponzi scheme, was a self-discovery into understanding why she even let herself get swindled in the first place.  Ends up her thoughts on money were just as unhealthy as her thoughts on food were. 

As I kept reading the book I saw myself and my patterns materializing before my eyes.  Ends up that not all things are as they seem.

As a single woman in NYC, I make more than enough to allow me to live a ‘more than’ comfortable life.  I invest my own money by myself (and allow JP Morgan to control my 401K investments).  I have a two bedroom apartment in an incredible neighborhood lined with five star restaurants up and down the street.  I take an international vacation every year.  I have a designer wardrobe that even astonishes me.  I have caviar and pate in the refrigerator, and more than enough food to eat. 

Literally…I have more than enough.  Actually…I have more than enough than I know what to do with.

On Friday, I headed to Jacks’ World on 45th Avenue (between 5th and 6th) because they are now carrying gourmet food.  I thought that this was a great opportunity for me to pick up on international ingredients that I have a hard time finding elsewhere. 

Caviar…pate…Moroccan crackers…cherry jams…pickled lemons…brown basmati rice…my basket was overflowing with goodies.  All at little cost to me.

The next day, I went to the Dollar Tree and stocked up on even more food.

Not done yet…later that day, I went to Rite Aid and stocked up on a bunch of stuff I had coupons for.  I don’t use maxi pads or Nivea’s cellulite stuff (I use the more expensive stuff from Bliss). I don’t eat cereal or Pop Tarts, but it’s on sale and I have coupons for it.

Now…this is where my friend would laugh and say…I know what you’re doing.  I’m pretending like I can eat, when I can’t eat.  I’m buying this other stuff…because…hmm…that’s the subject of this post.

Most of that food winds up in bags donated to the needy or thrown in the trash due to spoilage. 

I am what magazines would call an anorexic.  Trust me…it doesn’t make sense at all…but read on.

Doctors MIGHT agree with those magazines, BUT they have diagnosed the situation differently.  I have a very rare symptom (but it exists) that is a result of post-traumatic stress disorder.  That means that I suffer from anxieties, panic attacks, rapid weight gain, etc. as a result of a traumatic event that caused my brain to flip a fight or flight switch on, in other words, a ‘safety’ switch.

I didn’t realize this switch was on until my size 8 friend pointed out to me that I eat less than her.  Literally…in one sitting, I could eat 1/4 of what was on my plate, while the other person would eat the entire plate, want more (including dessert).  Me…I can’t stomach eating more.  I physically can’t eat more. 

So if I eat less than a normal person, why doesn’t the body reflect that? 

What the body does reflect is that I have anorexic tendencies.  I was almost admitted into the emergency room because of how bad the situation was.  I wanted to eat, but I physically couldn’t.  My body was rejecting the food.  They wanted to hook me up to an IV because they discovered that I was only getting in 400 calories a day (and had been for months).  The body was shutting down.

That was when I pledged to the doctor that I would work harder at trying to eat.  While some people that diet try to get down to 1,000 calories (and complain that it’s not enough), I try to get up to 1,000 calories (800 at the minimum). 

If I had it my way, I’d be satisfied with one Moroccan cracker with caviar on top.  That’s it.  Or 3 baby carrots.  Or a cup of coffee.  Or one or two slices of an apple.  Or one slice of mango. 

I don’t want more than that.  My body has already changed internally to reflect that of an anorexic.  For instance, I’ve gone from 5 days of ‘that time of the month’ to 1.5 days in the last year and quickly heading to NO DAYS.  At first, I thought I was going through menopause (about ten years too early), but the doctor informed me that was indeed NOT THE CASE. 

It’s taken almost a year for me to eat a normal meal.  If I can eat 3 meals a day…I’m happy.  I aim to eat at least 2 meals.  Even if it’s just 1/4 of what’s on my plate, or an entire salad…I am content that I’m one step closer to getting my body in the ‘green’ zone and out of the red.  [Keep in mind, a plate size to me is a salad plate portion.  If I can eat everything on that plate, it’s a good day.  Normally, I can only eat 1/4 of what’s on that plate.]

The only thing that I hate about all of this…I don’t have an anorexic’s body.  After all that I go through…I’m not 60 pounds.  I’m far from it.  This is where the PTSD comes in.

Because my body is in ‘safety’ mode, meaning that it holds onto every single calorie I put into my body and turns it into layer upon layer of fat in an effort to make me as unpretty, unsightly and extremely ugly as it possibly can.  Why?  Because the body believes that if I am that way, no one will ever look at me or want me in a way that could harm me.  Being thin and being pretty = being a victim of sexual assault.  Being fat and ugly = Being SAFE.

This is why I say that losing weight is a psychological battle for me.  It’s not a love for food.  It’s not an unhealthy attitude towards food (like overeaters anonymous).  This is my brain in a mode that I can’t snap out of.  This is my brain getting the entire body to cooperate with its ideology that in order to be safe from this traumatic event ever happening to me again…I have to be fat and ugly. 

I’ve studied the effects of PTSD for many years.  No one ever really heals from it.  They are changed forever because of the traumatic events they’ve lived through.  The more traumatic the event, the more your brain is traumatized by what happened.  Just as much as I can’t rehash or remember what happened, all of the doctors point to the same thing…this is what happens when someone suffers from PTSD. 

I’m the last of 5 cases that sought medical treatment for my condition.  The other four…they decided they would rather be fat than to let go of their safety card.  They were just as anorexic as I was, but they packed on another 80 -200 pounds after they gave up and let the trauma of PTSD take over again.

While that thought scares the crap out of me, the purpose of the book has been about defeating PTSD and learning that I deserve something better out of life.  I choose to be happy, not a traumatized little victim (despite what the brain has done). 

There are little triggers everywhere that make people decide what decision they will make or the feelings that they have when they do something good for themselves.

For instance, I had a friend that had severe money problems.  She was always in debt.  She decided to take a job that makes half of what I make (in NYC of all places). 

This is the mindset we have…we both bought a laptop on the same day.  My laptop was about $500.  I paid for it in cash.  She bought a $3000 laptop and put it on her credit card. 

I make more money than she does.  I invested $500 in a laptop and paid in cash.

She makes less money.  She paid $3000 and paid for it with a credit card.

Keep in mind, I did say she was in serious debt.

When she decided it was time for a family, I kept thinking…how are you going to afford to do that?  She went ahead and did it giving little thought to how impoverished she was already, living on Ramen noodles, to bring a child into this world.

What does she fight about with her husband all of the time?  Money.  Or shall we say, the lack thereof and all of the bills they have to pay.

She has no respect for money.  She wants what she wants and takes it, no matter how difficult or broke she will be to obtain those things.  Yet, she doesn’t feel worthy enough to take a job that will pay her more money so that she can pay all of her bills and have enough.  She would rather be impoverished, owing everyone money.

That is actually a psychological issue.  She would rather be poor.

But the reason why we couldn’t be friends, is because her decision to remain poor meant that she resented me for having more than her.  Misery loves company.

It’s just like women in a weight club where they discuss their weight loss victories and setbacks.  But for those women that reach their goals…they’re no longer part of the club anymore because they no longer have those issues anymore.  They can’t relate to a small 5 pound victory anymore or digging through the trash to eat a slice of cake.  They ‘don’t get it.’ 

With this friend, she made me resent having more money than her.  She actually made me feel ashamed of it. 

When I walk through Target with a cart overflowing with groceries and other goodies, a family of 5 will look at my cart and their five food items that is supposed to get them through the week.  They will give me this look…it’s the same look that friend used to give me. 

Even at the Dollar Tree, a family made me feel ashamed that I had a basket filled with food items, while they only had three items. 

It wasn’t about what was in the basket…it was about how much was in the basket.  It was as if they saw me as ‘showing off’ my wealth.  Forget the fact that I buy my groceries for a three month time period, not one week.  I stock up because I don’t always have the time to go to Target or the Dollar Tree. 

But at the same time, I know my blouse costs $300 and my bag is designer and cost $800.  My top alone could feed a family of four for several weeks.  My designer bag is rent money for others. 

They make me feel ashamed that I can afford both without going into debt or blinking an eye that I may have spent too much money on those items. 

The thing is, I remember when I was them.  I remember making only $24,000 a year and starving.  I remember the Dollar General Store and Aldi’s being my best friends and Wal-Mart being a luxury store.  I remember buying my jeans for $7 at the Goodwill and rocking it. 

I remember living on rice and vegetables, because meat was too expensive. 

I remember walking 2 miles to work each way, because I couldn’t afford to take the bus for $1.10 each way.

I remember working two jobs and still having a hard time making ends meet in the winter months when the gas bill arrived.  I know what it’s like getting the gas turned off in the middle of winter because I couldn’t afford the $500 bill one month and then the $700 bill the next month. 

I know what it’s like to not be able to afford…living.

But I made a choice back then.  I decided that this was no way to live.  I had a college degree that I still had to pay for ($369/month for one loan) and I was killing myself just to make ends meet.  It was no way to live.

I decided to get a better paying job.  I decided to move.  I decided it was time for me to start living. 

All I wanted…was to have more than enough.  I got exactly what I wanted by making the right decisions.  I can afford things that I never thought I would be able to afford.  I can pay all of my bills and still have more than enough leftover to save, and spend on whatever I want. 

Sure, I enjoy saving money.  It allows me to relive my days when I couldn’t afford anything.  It makes me value and appreciate what I’m buying even more…because I remember when I couldn’t have those things.  I buy what I want, when I want…but within reason.

I don’t lust after things that I think are outrageously expensive.  I shop like my millionaire aunt and uncle shop.  They shop at Big Lots, flea markets and antique shops.  They don’t spend all of their money because they need to make sure it gets them through their retirement age.

When they buy things, they buy according to what will bring them joy as well as the family. 

They also know what it feels like to have someone steal from them and practically bankrupt them.  They know what it’s like to have the banks rip away a dream and a company they worked so hard to build.  They also know what it’s like to have the bank show up at the front door to repossess their house.

But they also know how to bounce back from being the victim.  They also know what it is they value the most in life.

People are always so busy looking at the things in life that they wish they had.  They always want the dream to become a reality…missing the life that they have right in front of them. 

There are people that sacrifice time with their family and putting their kids to bed at night…just so they can succeed in their careers and provide a better life for their families, not realizing that what they’re missing out on are those ballet recitals and baseball games…the kisses goodnight and the bedtime stories…they’re missing out on those little moments that end up meaning so much in the end.  They are missing out on the life that was right in front of them.

I was lucky to have a rich benefactor that believed in me and my dreams.  My family is very chauvanistic…except when it comes to me.  I wasn’t like the other cousins or like my sibling.  I was the one that was tossed to the side by my parents while they doted on my brother.  I was born a girl, ergo my father wanted nothing to do with me.

My family felt bad for me so they created opportunities for me.  They sent me to Thailand, Paris and California.  They introduced me to the finer things in life and a bigger culture.  They took me to plays and sporting events (sitting right behind the bench).  They taught me about wines and finer foods.  They even teased me about always picking the cheapest thing on the menu when someone else was buying…just out of consideration.  We sat down and had English tea and went antiquing.  They showed me what it meant to live life to the fullest.

They also taught me that even though I was alone in this world…I wasn’t really alone.  I had them.  They were there whenever I needed them.  When they weren’t around, I had the finer things in life to fill into my soul.  They taught me how to live and to be happy…without spending a fortune to do those things.

My friend always makes fun of me when I go to the grocery store and bulk up.  She laughs because I’m filling a need…a need that cannot be fulfilled.  There’s that safety aspect of making sure that I have more than enough food in my pantry for the just in case an apocalypse happens and I have to fend for myself for 3 months.  There is also that need to eat that can’t be fulfilled.

I buy chicken one day…and throw it out a few days later…completely untouched.  I cook elaborate meals, take a few bites, wrap it up and try to take it to lunch for the rest of the week.  By my standards…all of those elaborate meals end up in the trash by the end of the week.  Trust me, I could feed several African families with what I waste each week. 

I’m supposed to eat more salad, so I buy 2 containers of spinach leaves…only to throw away one container because I couldn’t get through an entire container in two weeks before it spoiled.  It takes me a month to get through one half gallon container of milk. 

But the fact that all of this is wasted doesn’t deter me from buying more and more food as if I was going to eat it all.

Buying that food is a need.  Why?  It’s because I remember what it was like to starve on a $24K salary.  An anorexic feeling like they’re starving?  You know it had to be bad. 

I don’t ever want to feel that kind of hunger again.  That’s why I buy so much food, and order so much food at a restaurant and only pick at it (my friend calls me on this all of the time, so I order something I can take home and give to the cat). I want to have more than enough food at the waiting so that I never have to feel hunger again.

Feeling that kind of hunger…changes the way you think.  It’s almost, in a way, traumatizing.  Now that I can afford to buy as much food as I want, I overbuy.  Literally…what I spend my ‘spending’ money on is FOOD.  That need to never feel hunger again is what drives it (even though I can’t eat most of the time). 

I have doctors that back me up as a validating excuse on why I buy food.  It’s under the assumption that I’ll eat it…when the medical reports show that I’m definitely not eating it.  Then I say it’s there for the just in case my body decides that it really will allow me to eat.  Those days are very few (especially now that summer has come). 

You can bring a horse to water, but you can’t force it to drink.  That’s my relationship with food.  I can buy as much food as I want to try, but to try to get me to eat it is quite another story.

This is like a love/hate relationship.  I’m a foodie, no doubt that I am.  But I hate eating.  I force myself to eat because if I don’t, the doctors will make good on their threats and I’ll be fed through an IV and stuck in a hospital.

So what am I to do?

That’s what I asked myself this weekend.  I apparently have some sick need to spend my fun money on food that I’ll never eat.  Why am I doing this to myself?

That’s when I decided to resolve to do things differently.  I am going to take each moment by moment one step at a time. 

I don’t want to waste my fun money on ‘things’ that have no real value to me.  They’re only a ‘safety’ hitch.  There are no real needs.  They are not a real necessity to me.  It only feeds that ‘safety’ need in my mind.

To resolve this, I’m not going to diet myself away by staying away from grocery stores and gourmet shops, because then it will make me overcompensate in the future.  You know what I’m talking about…people limit their desires so much that they can’t help but go crazy and binge later. 

I literally walked through my kitchen last month and thought…I have no food in here…when I have a whole month’s worth of food in the kitchen (maybe more).  But something inside me said that I had nothing…when I still had more than enough.

I’ve decided that I’m going to change that.  Since it is summer, I’ll make sure to stock up on the summer’s bounty and can a lot of the summer’s fruits and vegetables.  But after the last canning bottle is filled to the max…no more. 

Just the same way that food can spoil if you’re so busy saving it for tomorrow or as a safety vehicle for an apocalypse that never comes, so can the way we look at our now and the future.

There is always a benefit in saving for a future, but there is always that question of what if tomorrow never comes.  How much saving for tomorrow is enough…and how much is too much?

Like food, hording too much will spoil your efforts.  There is no sense of security in food.  It’s like throwing money into the trash.  You have to believe that you have just enough and more to last you in case of an emergency.  It’s just like you can’t put a million dollars into an emergency fund.  What emergency are you going to have that will cost a million dollars? 

Just like what emergency is going to happen if you have only a month worth of emergency food rather than 3 months at all times?  Why must there be more?  Put in just enough and not a penny more towards that savings bank.

Why can’t I buy 1 mango instead of 4 when I’m craving mangoes?  Why can’t I buy just 1 pound of cherries instead of 3?  [I just threw out 2 lbs of cherries over the weekend.]  Why can’t I buy chicken when I actually plan on making it that day?  The cat ends up eating 95% of it by herself anyway…and she’s really into this Moroccan chicken kick.

The point is why am I trying so hard to live for a tomorrow that may never come instead of living for today?  Sure, it’s wise to save a little for tomorrow, but come on…hording 3 months worth of food that I will have zero interest in eating 10 years from now? 

Sure, it all sounds silly when it’s put that way, but there are many of us that have this kind of ‘safety’ net that we use our money on. Whether it be shoes, sweaters, glasses, clothes, coins, baseball cards, books, movies…whatever…we need to break from that cycle.  Why?  Because it doesn’t help us. 

We need to place value on what’s right in front of us and appreciate what we already have. 

I chose a life free of debt.  I just didn’t see how I would be happy with it.  I like saving money (who doesn’t), so I make it a mission to see how much I can get with little or no money.  I make sure to splurge on the things that matter the most to me (like spending way too much on a vacation that will last a lifetime in my memory banks).  I chose the path that I deserve because I believe that I am worth it.

I want to have more than enough, but having more than enough does not always lie in consumerism. 

I had to cut myself off from buying anymore books or DVDs or purses…because I have no more room for anything more.  I decided to go to the library if I wanted to see a new movie or read a new book.  I don’t have to pay for it…and it doesn’t clutter up anymore space.  I have to use the purses I have at home, because that Kate Spade hasn’t seen the light of day since Martin Brodeur became the Most Winningest Goaltender in the History of the NHL. 

I read recently that people will pay more for an ‘experience’ rather than another object to clutter up their lives.  I used to pay a lot of money to experience hockey down in the front row.  Nowadays, I pay thousands more just to go on the road with those teams. 

So why not experience something new?  Like yoga (done right) with a special teacher?  Or try that community dance class put on by the YMCA?  Or grab the golf clubs and head to Chelsea Piers and give that instructor something to talk about?  Or how about sitting outside with a book and an icy beverage in Central Park, and letting the day go by peacefully?

Why not take that crazy safety in food money and invest it in more Russian classes at NYU?  Why not invest in myself and the moments that life has to offer?  They’re all valuable lessons I take with me that make me feel alive.  Why not invest in those moments?  It’s a much healthier alternative.

You can’t save your moments for tomorrow.  You can only live them now.  Sure, you can invest in a future moment, but let go of the accumulation of things and appreciate what you already have now.

Unhappiness is usually the result of seeing others have what you don’t have.  Unhappiness lies in the desire to want what you don’t have, instead of cherishing what you already have.  It’s about appreciating what’s right before your eyes.  Believe me when I say…that’s my mission from here on out.

FOOD FOR THOUGHT: The Dali Lama was asked what he thought about self-hate.  He asked what that was.  When it was explained to him, he looked at the person asking him the question, and said that in his culture, they do not practice self-hate.  It was purely a Western concept.

I was just telling someone the story of when my ex-boyfriend (someone 30 years older than me) popped the question the first time.  I found out on Xmas Eve that he had cheated on me with a mutual friend of ours.  I blew up.  I had never been so mad in my life.

The next morning, I opened up all of my gifts (alone) and found a diamond ring (the ugliest looking ring I’ve ever seen in my life).  He was planning on asking me to marry him on Xmas day. 

Well, since we weren’t talking, the next day (12/26) I called up my friend and said that I needed to go to a certain store.  She drove me there and I returned the ring (he was stupid enough to leave the receipt in the box), and I got myself something that I loved.

A month later, he thought things were cool again.  He took one look at my finger and said, “Where’s the ring?”  I told him I returned it and got something I really liked.  Well, he blew up at me…I walked away…laughing all the way to the metro.

He wasn’t THE ONE, and I knew it. 

My friend said to me today that was evil.  I looked at him and said, “What part of ‘he slept with my friend’ do you not understand?”

I don’t think it was evil…I call it payback for being an asshole.  And you want to know how I found out…he said that he had slept with a woman who lived around the corner from where we were at that moment.  He said he had tried to have a relationship with her…blah blah blah…

Now, anyone that knows me knows that I’m hearing a totally hidden conversation there…that person he was talking about (without saying who it was) was my friend…and she had tried to tell me before that he had been coming by the house.  All of the pieces fit together in that one moment and to see that man turn ghostly white when I responded to his story saying…”You’re talking about [MY FRIEND].  You fucking slept with [MY FRIEND].” 

[Note to men…don’t tell half truths or lies to me…I’ll hear the whole story that you’ve gathered to the forefront of your brain.]

Needless to say, I left him.  He proposed another 2 times after that…all negative responses from me.  He wasn’t THE ONE and I knew I was only using him to pass the time until I was ready for THE ONE. 

I was in my early 20s…I still had a lot to learn from life.

Fast forward to present day…

Over the weekend I had this odd fascination with Christopher Reeve.  It had started off just innocent, watching “Somewhere In Time” (a movie I had ordered recently that was piled up waiting to be watched).  I sat there watching the movie, remembering sitting on the couch next to my pregnant mother, at the age of 5, watching this movie. 

It was my first ‘romance’ film.  I remember sitting there and thinking “WOW…that was such a beautiful story.”  Christopher Reeve…he was something else.  So beautiful.

I didn’t grow up with fairy tales being read to me by my parents.  My mother was an immigrant and could barely speak English.  My father…didn’t acknowledge my existence.  So I was left with the random stories I read on my own (like Twas The Night Before Christmas) and old movies that they showed on television in the suburbs of Chicago.

I didn’t have fairy tales of princesses meeting their prince charming.  I had Christopher Reeve going back in time to find a woman he believed he was fated to love.  That was my fairy tale.

I watched the documentary behind the film after watching the movie over the weekend and just sat there in wonder, watching Christopher Reeve talk about this film while he was in his wheelchair.  It just made me sad, because of the story that happened after the film.  The accident.  The confinement to a wheelchair.  His death.  Then his wife died right after from lung cancer.  Such a tragic story.

But in the end…this is a story about fate and love.

After the film, I cracked open the 4 pack movie of Superman 1-4 and watched them all over the weekend.  I loved seeing NYC in the 70s and 80s.  It’s even more fun watching how some of the styles came back in style recently.

After the Reeve marathon was over, I felt like I needed to read “From the Ashes of Angels” (a book that dives into cultural and historical references of angels on earth).  I went to the shelf where it was ‘supposed’ to be and it wasn’t there. 

I looked all over the apartment for it and couldn’t find it.  Before I could go nuts, I centered myself and decided to let my intuition be my guide.  I’d let my sixth sense find the book for me. 

I stood in my office and then looked at the desk I was planning on giving away to charity.  I looked underneath it and didn’t see it.  But then my eyes looked up at the drawer and I saw what could be my missing book.

I pulled out my other desk so I could get to the drawer and pulled out the Bible.  I can’t tell you how long I’ve been looking for that wretched book.  I reached in and tried to pull out another book.  Because of it’s size…it was a feat. 

By the time I finally got that book out from the drawer, I looked at it and thought…I totally forgot I had this book.  That book ended up being the Egyptian Book of the Dead.  The last book I was able to find was “From the Ashes of Angels.”

Before I had started looking for Ashes, I had picked up my copy of Carl Jung’s memoirs to finish reading this week.  I had opened up a page with a sticky note on it where I had highlighted a section that said that Carl Jung had returned to archaeology.

I stood there thinking…that’s weird.  I had just returned to archaeology as well and was looking forward to my adventures in Morocco.  Odd that I would read that from the man who developed the theory on synchronicity.  Which means…I was having a serious synchronistic moment at the time.

I grabbed Ashes and Jung’s memoirs and headed into the living room where I had pulled a few other books to read and research.  I picked up “The Love Spell” (a memoir written about finding love).  As I was reading the first chapter, the author started talking about all of these synchronistic moments that had happened to her.  In order to understand them, she had picked up Carl Jung’s book and the Egyptian Book of the Dead.

Now…HOW FREAKED OUT DO YOU THINK I WAS?  I had just touched those books within the last few hours before picking up “The Love Spell” to read. 

The author went on to talk about how James Dean kept coming up in her everyday life…like something was happening.  It kept coming up everywhere.  Then I sat there thinking…Christopher Reeve???

Odd?  Yes. 

We call this synchronicity.  The story she tells is her journey into finding her ‘fated’ THE ONE. 

It’s interesting to see how my spiritual practices, wicca, yoga, meditation, tai chi, etc. are all connected.  I think a lot of people are drawn to this because it’s the universe’s ‘desire’ for those people to find greater meaning within themselves without needing religion to find GOD. 

Some people need religion in order to understand HOW to live RIGHT.  Others don’t need it because it is ingrained within them what is right and what is wrong and what can happen when you do wrong.

I’ve always talked about the magic in the universe.  I’ve sensed where some beliefs can go wrong…and I hear within my own soul that there is a need to combine all of the faiths in spirituality in order to truly understand God. 

For instance, let’s take the forbidden practice of tantra.  This yoga form was basically killed off many centuries ago.  The practice and practitioners were exterminated.  Their temples were left for the jungle’s inhabitants to take over it…until one day an archaeologist found these temples laden with sexual acts in the most bizarre forms molded into the temple walls.

This discovery allowed for a new yoga practice to emerge called tantric sex.  It is the ability to reach heightened states of awareness (enlightenment) through sexual acts (with your partner). 

If you can believe it, the Mayans detested that group and spanned off into the lower regions of South America to study God in a different light.  That became the study of astrology and medicine.

The Atlanteans practiced another form of spirituality with crystals…a connection with what would be EARTH as a power source to enlightenment.

Each faction separated off, detesting the other group’s way to enlightenment, thinking that the other group was completely wrong. 

But they were all wrong.  You need them all to reach complete awareness.  Just like you need to understand plants and how a simple plant can heal you, you need to be able to read the stars to understand the universe, and you need sex in meditation in order to reach complete enlightenment…because it all returns to what we’re all looking for LOVE, PEACE and HARMONY in our universe.  All religions speak of love and peace and harmony…but they don’t quite reach it.  There’s that DESIRE for those things, but they sacrifice their own desires in order to find that passion in love, that passion in peace and that passion in harmony.

There are things in this universe that are unexplainable, but magical.  Jung spent most of his life trying to explain the unexplainable in scientific terms and always coming to the same conclusion…you can’t scientifically prove it, but it exists.

After 100 pages into “The Love Spell” I realized that the reason why Christopher Reeve had been so prevalent this weekend was because his archetype had manifested itself in my life.  It is mirroring not only myself, but what I’m looking for in a mate.  More specifically, a soulmate. 

Reeve embodies the ‘hero’ archetype.  Superman is the perfect hero to me.  Do you know how easy the world would be if we had a Superman?  Not only by day did he act like this cute, nerdy guy that went to work as a reporter, by night he ran around the world trying to save it (causing mischief at times).  He was like a ditzy blonde pretending like they were a complete idiot, but really they’re super smart underneath that facade (see Superman 3, that blonde was highly intelligent, she just played dumb). 

Do you see a resemblance in there?  Reporter…always fighting for truth, justice and the American way…

Superman is in a way the archetype of my own personality.  Before I became a hockey writer, I was trying to save the world before Lex Luthor (aka George W. Bush) made me doubt that I could.  He undermined all of my initiatives.  If I was trying to rid the world of landmines, he’d push through a bill to make more for use by our military.  If I was trying to help women and girls from being a victim of violence, he’d push through bills that helped enslave women in America to their husbands.  If I was promoting peace, he went to war with another country.  If I banned oil, he…well, you get my point.

That man made me cry.  It’s like…why am I trying to save the world when this asshole keeps undermining every single thing that I’ve done?  That’s when I walked away from trying to save the world. 

That’s actually why I write now.  First, if you want to change the world, you have to be the change the world seeks.  Second, when you are the change, you can change people one at a time.  Let them see God through you.  Let them be inspired to change the world because you’ve inspired them to do so.  That is how you change the world.  Give them the tools, and they will change the world with it.

The book I’m writing…it’s meant to change people and inspire them to greatness.  That’s why I’m constantly researching and learning things…and opening my mind to possibilities.

I’m trying to describe my world.  It’s tapped into that magical realm.

But as past readers have read, I don’t believe in fate and love.  Love is dangerous.  It can destroy you. 

My Tarot cards keep coming up as ‘disbelief in fate.’  It’s been that way for the past six months.  It came up that way again last night.  But this time the changing factor is to believe in fate.  That will determine my path when it comes to love.  If I believe in fate…THE ONE will come.

What’s triggered all of these synchronistic moments was something that happened last week.  [Oh god, I hope he doesn’t read this…]

Back in the 80s, I had the biggest crush on Thaao Penghlis.  I used to love him in Mission Impossible.  When they canceled the show, he went into soaps…and there I never saw him on television again.

On Thursday, I was going through my list of new followers and saw that Thaao had started following me on Twitter.  I was sitting there thinking NO FRIGGIN WAY!  It can’t be that guy from Mission Impossible I was madly in love with in my tweens.

Sure enough it was.  He had found me on Twitter.  Thaao Penghlis had found ME.

Thank goodness for Google.  I googled that hot Australian and discovered that he had a love for archaeology (do you know how hard it is to find a man that’s INTO archaeology?).  Not only that, but his pictures on his website…I’d been to all of those places.  I’m not done yet…he’s in New Jersey now.

I thought…how freakishly odd and synchronistic.  Since then, the synchronistic events have kept on rolling in.  All because that guy I had a HUGE crush on back in the 80s found me on Twitter and started following me.  So random and out of the blue…but that’s the way the universe works.

Since then, the synchronistic movements started to roll.  From Reeve to the books, etc.  I believe this is the universe’s way of intervening into my life and making me believe in FATE again.

I’ve always remarked that I’ve had this ability to bring people into my world.  All of those people I admired or adored growing up, I’ve met in a strange way.  From Amy Tan to the friggin President of the United States (trust me, it wasn’t a pleasant meeting), to Laurence Fishburne, Harrison Ford and Eve Ensler…we won’t even get into the hockey people (that’s a universe within its own). 

I read that the reason why this happens, it all revolves around our energy.  We have the energy to draw people into our world.  My energy is the most obscure beacon (aka lighthouse) out there that draws the most random people into my world…including the guy I had the biggest crush on when I was a kid.  Even Markie Post (Night Court) had commented on that energy.  She came right up to me out of nowhere.

I remember when I met the US Secretary of Transportation, he spent the longest time talking to me.  He saw me at a party at a different time and came up to me and chatted with me because I was the only person he recognized (that man knew who I was, where I worked…the whole CIA/FBI file). 

That is my world.  I draw people into it.

I think this whole past week is really the universe’s way to intervene into my notions about love and fate.  My horoscope said not too long ago that I had to remember…everything happened exactly the way it was supposed to.  He really wasn’t THE ONE.  He was meant to pave way for THE ONE.

There really is some Christopher Reeve out there searching for me…that guy that believes in FATE.  He’s that guy that I’ll say, “Is it you?”  And he’ll do everything to prove that it is him.  He’d travel through time just to prove it.

Sometimes I think I’ve already met him, but because of the obstacles, I doubt he’s THE ONE, even if I feel that magic bubbling up.  Even when others remark on that magical feeling…that there’s something there…I try to pretend it’s not about us.  It’s that electrical feeling that you feel from across the room when they look at you…as if there’s something special about them.

It’s that walking together along the street where you feel like you’ve known that person all of your life and you were just picking your conversation up from the last conversation you were having…in the last lifetime.  It’s that person you see in your meditations, standing in a field of sunflowers with you, being at peace and knowing the world is a beautiful place now that the two of you are together.

That guy…he’s fate.  He’s the one I’ve seen in my dreams and in my meditations.  He’s the one I’ve followed into this lifetime and will into the next.  He’s that first love from eons ago, and the only true love in every lifetime.

We all aim to find that one person.  Fate pushes and pulls you towards each other (even if you don’t believe in it) because you never know if that other person is praying that you’ll change your mind and love them and believe in the impossible that it is indeed a possibility.

Believing in fate is probably the hardest thing to do, but the universe will intervene when that other person really wants you to believe in it.  To be truthful, I think we all want to believe in the impossible…even for those of us who stopped believing in it.

So where is all of this synchronicity leading to?  Only time will tell.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=etFtBxj9_f4]

I just came across this on Twitter.  I agree with the majority of the 5 Things You Should Know Before Dating a Journalist.  But I may add that for some HOCKEY writers, it doesn’t all apply.  So let me add…

1.  Like hockey players, when we’re not at the game, we usually don’t watch hockey games on television at home or elsewhere.   

2.  We have a life outside of hockey (this seems to shock more men than anything else).

3.  Yes, my schedule is booked and pre-determined by the NHL every July.  Every now and again, I find out I’m going somewhere or I have to cover another team during the season.  It happens.  It’s work.  So print out the team’s schedule and put it on your calendar.  Those are the days I’m busy.  When April rolls around and you’re trying to make plans with me…if you want a real answer, I won’t know.  So don’t expect a realistic answer until June after the Stanley Cup is lifted.  I just don’t know what’s going on with my schedule.

4. When not absorbed with hockey…I need to relax.  I don’t want to read the sports pages.  I don’t want to watch ESPN or the NHL Network.  I want to chill and relax with a movie or a good book.  I need a break…just like hockey players do.

5. If I have to cancel plans all of a sudden because a hockey player told me that the only time he was available was when we had a previous engagement…trust me…the million dollar man will come before you.  He’s the boss and I have to bend to his schedule, because he isn’t supposed to bend to my schedule.  So understand that.

6. Don’t ask for hockey tickets or autographs.  I’ll dump you. 

7. When not at hockey, I don’t want to talk about hockey, so please have other subjects prepared for discussion.

8. Yes, hockey players text message me, call me, DM me and email me.  Don’t go through my phone or emails to find out what they’re saying.  We speak in code…which means you’ll assume things.  For your own sanity…let my work be.

9.  Keep in mind…this is a job. If you wouldn’t want me butting into your work life, then you need to keep out of mine. 

10.  You can’t go on the road with me. 

11.  I need coffee to write, so don’t drink it all or bug me while I’m writing on a weekend morning.

12.  When my editor says I’m burned out and need to relax…you get me for a couple of months while I’m on sabbatical.  But don’t get too attached to that freedom, because hockey season does start back up again.

News came out the other day that Stan Mikita has oral cancer.

It made me think of the first time I met the former Chicago Blackhawk.  It was in Las Vegas in this huge suite at the Palms.  The first time I saw him, I thought this was one pretty cool old guy.  You can’t help but be humbled in his presence, knowing that this guy standing next to you is a hockey legend. 

Last night, I got to thinking about a lot of my firsts. 

The first time I ever saw Martin Brodeur was on October 13, 2005.  Sure, Jaromir Jagr had just scored a goal on him, but I kept thinking…wow…this guy is awesome.

That was also Henrik Lundqvist’s first NHL appearance.  It was that game that created Henrik’s new fanbase.  We were all mesmerized by him.  He was just phenomenal.  A few months later he went on to win the gold medal in the Olympics. 

It was also that 2006 playoffs of the Rangers versus the Devils that Brodeur became my all-time favorite goaltender.  It was one move that won me over. 

Marty was caught outside of the net, when a Ranger attempted a shot on goal.  Marty went flying (like Superman) across the crease and he stopped the puck…with the blade of his skate.

I was sitting in the fourth row to the left of the net.  Everyone in my section was just stunned.  We needed to see that play over again…and we did.  We sat there with our jaws glued to the floor of Continental Airlines Arena thinking…that Martin Brodeur is something else.  Who stops a puck with only the blade of his skate while they’re flying through the air like Superman?  Martin Brodeur does.

I also remember the first time I ever saw David Clarkson.  He was still in the minors, playing in the AHL, but I will never forget that game in Hartford.  While I was watching the youth, I had mapped out who I expected to make it to the NHL (this is my GM in training education).  At the time, I had Brandon Dubinsky and Ryan Callahan checked off on my roster that they left for me on my seat.  Of course, they made the squad a few months later.

For the Devils, only one person stood out to me…and that was Clarky.  Granted, if it wasn’t for that crazy Rangers fan from New York sitting in front of me, I never would have noticed Clarkson right off the bat.

Every time Clarky touched the ice, the Rangers fan went ballistic, banged on the glass, yelling, “CLARKSON!”  For two whole periods this guy did this. 

Right as my head was starting to pound from all of the noise, I was getting ready to grab the guy and punch him.  Instead, Clarkson skated over and looked at the crazed Rangers fan and blew him a kiss.  It literally dumbfounded the guy.  Everyone that saw it was laughing hysterically.  It shut the guy up for the rest of the game.

That, to me, was probably the coolest thing I ever saw a hockey player do.  So David has that little special place in my book.  It’s all about first impressions, and that was Clarkson’s first impression on me.

The first time I encountered Zach Parise, I thought he was nuts.  Really, I did.  Reporters are supposed to approach the players, not the other way around.  When I realized I was being followed around in the locker room and he kept commenting on my pink Burberry bag and asking me if I had gone shopping…I literally thought the kid was nuts.  It was one of those, “Why are you talking to me?” moments.  It wasn’t just one time, he did it a few times.

For the record, Zach is the only one that’s ever done that.  I hope he’s the last.  Really…you want to creep someone out…that’s how you do it.  But don’t worry…he doesn’t creep me out as much anymore. 😉  

The only other player that’s ever approached me was Ryan Miller.  Reporters had moved out of the way when I walked into the Buffalo Sabres’ locker room and let me get up front to get quotes from Miller.  He noticed that.

I was writing down what he was saying when he wrapped things up.  Media dispersed and he had left the room.  I was still standing there writing down what he had said when he came up to me and said, “You know…you could have talked to me first.” 

I looked up and saw that the entire team was sitting in their lockers staring at me and not a single media person was in there.  Miller walked me out of the locker room and chatted with me.  I was literally gushing for a week after that.  [For the record, this was before he started dating his current fiancee.]  The reason why I was gushing…it had been a long time since a guy walked up to me just to talk to me like that.  Of course, I’m not going to say what we talked about.

There are other times when there was a player that I encountered that didn’t make a great first impression on me.  Shawn Thornton is one of them.  I was reading something on my phone and I commented to one of the Bruins reporters that another Bruins reporter (that they all knew) just had a baby.  Shawn was walking by me and I don’t know if he was trying to be cute or a jerk, but he started mocking me saying, “Baby…baby…baby.”  Every time he walked by me from one room to the next…another comment on a baby. 

It’s Shawn Thornton…what would your impression be on that?

Sean Avery…let’s just say it was all bad.  That is all. 

There were other moments like Carey Price, and Tim Thomas almost beating him up in the locker room.  And me…trying to explain to Carey why I was laughing (and his response when he found out he had been caught).  That was funny.  I love those two goalies because of that moment.  First impressions…

There was also the time when I saw Vincent LeCavalier for the first time…at a hot dog stand.  You never forget those moments.  (I even took a picture because it was just too funny…Vinny at a hot dog stand…HA!)

The only first moment I don’t remember (as far as my favorite all-time hockey legends) is Brendan Shanahan.  He became my #1 fave when Jagr dropped off my list.  But I couldn’t tell you what was the first moment. 

It was definitely not the time he pointed to me when he came out to start the second period and yelled across the ice to Darius Kasparaitis, “Is that the girl?”  I hope Darius told him that I can read lips.  And it was so obvious they were talking about me because Shanny pointed right at me (and looked right at me when he skated by).  [If you’ve followed my work since the beginning, you would know why I was Rangers’ talk.]

No…now I remember…you know what the first moment was?  It was in Puerto Rico.  Oh, how could I forget Puerto Rico? 

I came out of my hotel room and found a bunch of New York Rangers standing around my door.  Matt Cullen was across the hall from me (the first time I met him was in the hallway when I was heading to the beach).  Adam Hall was next door to me.  Michael Nylander commented that it looked like I was dressed and ready to go dancing (because we had all received an invitation from the hotel to attend a special party they had put together for the Rangers). 

I didn’t see who all was standing next to my door, but I saw a good 8 or 9 guys hanging out there.  They started whispering when I went to the elevator around the corner. 

That was the first time Aaron Ward had ever seen me. 

But I didn’t see Shanny (whom I believe was also one of the Rangers outside my door) until the Exhibition game when he came out onto the ice for warmups.  The Puerto Rico game was probably one of my favorite most memorable road trips.  This was the first time I was ever on the road with the Rangers, but it also made me fall in love with hockey a little bit more.

The kids were able to sit in the front row during the game.  I had such a good time talking to the boys and explaining the game to them.  One of the Florida Panthers had overheard me telling the kids to knock on the glass and ask for a puck.  The player skated down and picked up a puck for each of the kids and came back over and gave them all a puck.  I mouthed the words, “Thank you” to him.  He nodded and then skated back towards the locker room. 

That’s how the NHL can make a considerable impression on young hockey fans.  It’s all about making those moments personal.

When I first ran into Gary Bettman, it was in Prague.  He was standing in the hall (by himself) watching Vinny Prospal being interviewed by a bunch of Czech reporters.  We both stood there watching the whole thing. 

At the time, Vinny was playing for the Tampa Bay Lightning.  I found out later that day what the NHL was really saying about me.  They had dubbed me the “Jersey Girl.”  I covered the Devils.  But the way they described my first time in the Devils press box…I didn’t think anybody was watching me.  I didn’t know it was HUGE talk within the NHL. 

[No, I didn’t do anything odd or controversial…Lou did something very uncharacteristic of Lou…he let a new person into his press box.  First time a website entered his domain…and it was a woman.  This started to pave the way to let new media (internet based sites) into the press box in the NHL.]

Later that day, Rick Peckham (TBL’s play-by-play announcer) said to me, “It’s an honor to be a part of your history in the making.”  Apparently, what was being said about me was that I was going to change the face of the NHL.  [I was also the only female reporter in Prague.  The European media was so intrigued with me.  They said it was unheard of for a woman to write about sports.  They thought the NHL was revolutionary in letting a woman cover their game.]

Think that’s nuts?  I learned from a New York Islanders player recently that he had heard that I had a very strong influence in the NHL.  He had no idea how powerful that influence was until he got on Twitter.  He said that all I had to do was say he was on Twitter and within 8 minutes, he had over 1,800 new followers.  He said, “That is influence.”

That was his first impression of me. 

When I met Jarome Iginla at the NHL Awards, he was surprised to learn that my former editor was one of the girls he used to hang out with in high school.  It made for some interesting discussions. 🙂 

When I met Roberto Luongo, we had to share several hours with the Stanley Cup.  Funny how I said to him that he couldn’t touch the Cup until he earned his right to it.  He said he could touch it.  It became probably one of the most interesting arguments I’ve ever gotten into with a professional hockey player.  This year, if he wins it, I’ll say…”So…you finally earned your right to touch Lord Stanley.  I told you that you couldn’t touch it before then.” 😉

Now, as far as the big players go like Sidney Crosby and Alexander Ovechkin…Crosby I ran into when I got off the elevator in Montreal.  It was random, but he smiled.  He’s a cute kid.

Ovechkin, on the other hand, has told people that I’ve partied with him at the Marquis club in NYC.  He swears by it. 

I hope I was fun, because I would remember something like that.  Although, the model he was with the first time I met him…I know.  Rangers fans borrowed my camera one night.  When I got it back, I found paparazzi photos of Ovechkin and this model.  I sent an email to Ovechkin and said…ummm…so I didn’t take these photos of you, but Rangers fans did. 

He didn’t respond to me.  But I later found out from that model what he had said about it.  Weird?  Yes, it is. 

The whole Ovechkin run ins have always been odd and strange.

Which leads me to Mats Sundin.  I found out about his retirement and that he was going to go pro-poker directly from him.  They decided to release the information through me first, because he remembered me from the poker tournament I attended.  Yeah…crazy, I was hanging out with him and Luongo for 13 hours. 

Everything there is to know about poker, I learned from Sundin, Luongo, Pat LaFontaine and Glenn Anderson.  I also learned how poker relates to hockey. 

Pat LaFontaine is probably my favorite as far as legends I’ve met over the years.  He was reading “The Outliers” that summer and it became a huge conversation piece over dinner.  How it all relates to hockey is one of the most interesting things I’ve ever heard.  To study hockey and how you can figure out the A-list players versus the B-list, C-list and D-list is amazing. 

I always say that my hockey education came directly from hockey players…this is the stuff we talk about.  Just like understanding why hockey players play poker on the road.  It helps their mind develop strategy, which they can apply to the game itself.  It’s the same with golf.  The movements are almost completely identical.  Golf teaches you to perfect yourself.

I get my hockey education out of golf, because my instructor is the same one Mark Messier uses to perfect his game to prepare him for a career in professional golf (yes, he’s trying for a pro career). 

I’ve met Mess so many times, I can’t remember what time was the first time.  You can’t help but be in awe when you are in his presence.  It is Mark Messier afterall.

If I were to pick my fondest memories of who I thought was the coolest first moment…it may be Pat LaFontaine at the NHL Awards when he taught me so much about hockey…or Nicklas Lidstrom when he was climbing the stairs at Wrigley Field in front of me (in his skates) and I was scared as hell that he was going to lose his balance and fall backwards…or maybe it was laying on the beach next to Don Maloney in Puerto Rico talking about how white Petr Prucha was (LOL)…

There have been so many moments, so many people, and so many opportunities and experiences in these past 3 years…that I realize just how blessed I’ve been.  There have been moments where I’ve gotten interviews that completely pissed off the rest of the media because I got it (which I usually don’t care about that stuff as far as who gets what first).  There are others that got pissed off because I was given access long before they were given access or I got in on a secret rendezvous point.  Then there are others that think that players have given me an unfair advantage over them and have shown favoritism. 

Hey…I didn’t ask for it.  I just asked the question and they answered it. 

Really…if you asked Kovalchuk last year if he planned on signing with the Devils…he probably would have told you.

But yes, there have been moments when someone like Mats Sundin decided to release the information through me first.  Why?  Because I spent 13 hours with the guy at a poker tournament…NO OTHER MEDIA WAS THERE!  Who else would have understood the hockey retirement to play professional poker decision?  It was explained to me during those 13 hours.  I held onto the information until he was ready to release it.

When the opportunity arises to do something different and unique with the NHL, I usually jump at the opportunity, because I am always a student of hockey.  The way I was taught hockey comes from the pros themselves.  Not everyone understands why I talk about other things besides the game…but hockey players do, because that’s what they taught me…there’s more to this hockey business than just a game.  I’m always interested in the elements that go into becoming the best hockey players that ever existed.  It’s not just practice, practice, practice…many will tell you that taking from other elements in life…that helps them become a better hockey player.

Why else do you think the Rangers asked me to tag along in Eastern Europe?  I covered them two years ago in Prague.  They were happy with the results from what I picked up on and published.  This upcoming trip will be very different and more Puerto Rico style.  This will mark my 3rd road trip across the waters with the Rangers. 

What happens on a Rangers roadie stays on the roadie…but I may share a little bit with you.  MAYBE…

But I know, as always, there will be first moments and new memories.  I wish I could tell you where we’re going, but it’s still top secret until the NHL gives the go ahead and says I can talk about the different cities.  All I can say is…I CAN’T WAIT!

Even though this career is still new to me…I still can’t believe how much I’ve experienced in these short few years.  From the first time I was ever in an NHL locker room (New Jersey Devils), to my first hockey road trip (New York Rangers), to my first Winter Classic (Wrigley Field), to my first NHL party (New Year’s Eve 2009), to my first trip to Canada (Montreal-NHL All Stars), to my first time going to a country I’d never been to before…by myself…where I didn’t even speak the language (Czech Republic for the NHL Premiere 2008), to going on my first Devils road trip (Cali 2010)…there are so many firsts with the NHL.  They’ve made this one incredible adventure.  I’ve enjoyed every single second of it. 

What I’ve enjoyed the most…meeting all of the different media folk across the world.  From Nashville to Boston to Slovakia to Russia…all of you have made this fun as hell.  Looking forward to more adventures. 

Next stop Vegas…