My friends and I used to have this rule of thumb, which we could apply when we wondered whether to date a person of questionably young age: BBSW. That is, if the person was BBSW (Born Before Star Wars), they were fair game.

Problem is, we BBSW people are getting old. Increasingly the BASW (figure it out) crowd is getting legal and desirable. So we’re looking for a new rule.

Candidates:
- HYA+7 : half your age plus seven. Not bad…
- CASH : consenting adult, sane and human. Lacks that geeky quality that BBSW had…
- Pre-Orwellian : pre-1984. That one only buys us 7 years over BBSW…

Any other ideas?

(oh, and I love my friends)

So I go to the mall on my lunch break to get the Fellowship of the Rings Special Edition DVD (hee!), and upon returning to my car I notice a flat tire. Great.

I set to work on changing it, and naturally, some guy appears out of nowhere and helps out. (Of course, no guy appeared out of nowhere the time I got a flat tire at three am, wearing a skirt in -25 degree weather, but that’s beside the point).

After a bit of trouble finding a good place to set the jack, we get the job done without incident. Upon parting, the guy says something like “it’s always touchy offering help to a woman, so I was hesitant, but I find you’re quite capable. Lâche pas. (don’t give up)”. Rather condescending, but well-meaning.

I drive back to the office thinking, how can someone still be surprised that a woman can change a tire? We’re not talking tomboy stuff here, it’s not body work… or even changing the oil. I mean, the wheel is plainly held on by nuts. It’s rather obvious you should unscrew them.

But get this: I get to the office and explain my dirty hands and face to two female coworkers (age 29 and 35). Their reaction: “WOW! You mean you changed your own tire!?”

Sigh.

I love hockey, I love Finnish hockey, I love the captain of the Finnish hockey team, Saku Koivu.

When I was in Finland, I went to Saku’s hometown, Turku. When I got there, I wanted to find the arena where he had learned to play, and where his old team still played. So I went to a hockey store and asked for directions. The guy there told me it was way out in the middle of nowhere, and there was nothing going on there as it was the middle of July. I don’t care, I said, I came from Montreal and I want to see it. Ah, Montreal, Saku’s town, they said. So they gave me directions.

A customer overheard the exchange and told me he knew the Zamboni driver there, and maybe if he was there he could open up for me. He called his friend on his cell, and found out that Saku’s old team was having a closed practice that night, but that I could get in.

Very excited, I made my way to the deserted arena in the middle of nowhere that evening. The guy opened up and I sat and watched the practice, the only woman in the sparse audience of - I counted - eighteen. Eventually someone came and sat a few seats away in my row. I looked over. Hey, it’s Saku. When I regained consciousness, we chatted easily about all sorts of things, Montreal, his knee, my enjoying Finland, etc. I left after about twenty minutes, ran to a phone and told lightspeeddad all about it.

Six months after meeting Saku, I came back from Scandinavia, but because of my travelling and his injuries and illness, I never again got the chance to see him play live, until last night. And last night he scored his very first career hat trick, in addition to getting an assist. I love my life.

“La première étoile, the first star, SAKU KOIVU!!!!!!”

So I’m teaching a class this week, and I’ve got one guy that I can tell enjoys bitching and complaining. And I’ve been enjoying saying things to get him started, because it’s funny to see him get himself into a hissy.

Tuesday, in an attempt to do just that, I say to him “you mean the company hasn’t invited you guys out to a hockey game yet?”, something we of course never do for people who are here to take a course. Well, mission accomplished, he bitches and moans, I have a good laugh.

But he’s not over it the day after, nor the day after that.

Today, my boss’ boss hands me six tickets to the company box for Monday’s game against Pittsburgh. For me and the guys in my course. Hee!

Sometimes evil is its own reward… sometimes the reward is hockey tickets.

So this is why I gained ten pounds in sweden…

(I have no idea what that means).

The blog will return when I feel better.

Or sooner.

Now I have a reason to stay up till midnight.

In other news, I have two “real content” blogs brewing in my mind, so catch you on the other side, boys and girls, and have a good weekend.

(thanks for the link, lightspeedmom)

Someone sent me this link today. As I read it, I received my tickets to Caracas…

When I visited lightspeedmom and dad last week, lightspeeddad asked if I wasn’t taking a risk telling people online where I’d be that night (cf. the post about swing night last Tuesday). Said some crazies might try to get to me there.

So, just so I know, if any of you are homicidal maniacs, please advise me. Thanks!

An oldie but goodie…