This was something I hoped to get up earlier, but work, an unplanned trip back to Ann Arbor, and graduation stuff kind of got in the way. Anyway, here’s a semi-blog of Tuesday and Game Seven. Just assume that the times with no specific activity listed involve constant panic attacks and general incoherence:
5:40 am: Alarm goes off. I hit snooze for about a minute until I realize that it’s the morning of Game Seven. This is the last moment of peace I’ll have all day.
6:10 am: I realize that I have no breakfast food in my house. After briefly considering stealing some from my roommates (I promise you, they’ve taken plenty of my stuff.), I settle on a box of Wheat Thins. Head out the door.
7:05 am: Arrive at work. Discover that Gmail and Twitter have suddenly been blocked. Throw a fit in my head.
11:00 am: Go to lunch. Co-workers talk about football and doom and gloom politics. 2:10 pm: Leave work. First fit of road rage occurs while attempting to back out of my parking space.
2:15 pm: Stop for gas and a slurpee at Speedway. Their slurpee machine is out of Coke. Again. This is reminiscent of Friday.
2:17 pm: I really want Taco Bell, but that was my pre-game meal before Game Seven of the Finals. I decide on a quick trip through the Burger King drive through instead.
2:25 pm: Seriously, how long can it take to make a batch of chicken fries?
2:30 pm: I hit up the 7-11 nearby in search of the elusive but essential pre-game Slurpee. While waiting to pour mine, I witness an employee teaching a little old lady to pour her very first Slurpee. It’s pretty adorable. I’m proud to have shared in such an important moment in the life of a stranger.
2:33 pm: I select the 44 ounce cup, since that worked for Game Two. I attempt to pay, only to discover that in my frantic search for Slurpees, I have left my wallet in the car. I look really stupid.
4:00 pm: The second batch of cupcakes is in the oven. Somehow, the recipe that was supposed to yield 24 cupcakes only makes 19. I am not unhappy about this.
4:45 pm: After an eternity of googling, I determine that there is nothing creative that can be done to decorate the cupcakes. I do, however, come up with several ideas for future concoctions. I think I also made Baroque crave dessert. Apologies.
5:30 pm: Nap time. I can’t sleep. I’m pretty sure I was half awake the whole time.
7:00 pm: Time to get up and frost cupcakes. It’s almost commune time.
7:30 pm: There is literally no amount of food coloring in the world that will make this frosting red. I guess we’re going with vaguely reddish pink.
8:00 pm: I’m supposed to be leaving now. Instead, I’m frantically running around my house trying to get things taken care of. My iTunes Hockey playlist is blasting. My roommates are thrilled (again). This features fun classics like I Want Stanley (Arena and Rap versions), Hey, Hey, Hockeytown, Hit Somebody, and Without Stanley.
8:15 pm: My roommate comments on how tasty the cupcakes look. I’m 110% sure she’s trying to get me to offer her one. I’m not willing to break up the perfect set of 19 so I don’t make any kind gestures.
8:20 pm: I’m finally out the door.
8:59 pm: I finally arrive at Kukla’s Kasa for the Commune fieldtrip.
9:15 pm: Game time. The freak out factor is high amongst the Commune residents.
9:20 pm: The first of many attempts to get Operation #redwingscommune: No Limits off the ground fails. It was great to be distracted by trying to get the webcam to work during the whole first period. It kept me from stressing out too much.
9:30 pm: The video chat finally works. Unfortunately, nobody can hear us. Actually, upon reflection, this is probably for the best.
10:00 pm: People are rolling around on the floor of Kukla’s basement, terrified from the stress.
…The next hour is a blur of insanity at the commune. You can fill in the details in your imagination…
11:00 pm: By this point, we have noticed that every time Ellen logs off of the video chat, the Wings score. We develop a theory that she is secretly Pavel Datsyuk video chatting live from the Wings’ bench. The fact that she is drinking beer and eating rice on camera does nothing to dissuade us of this belief. We’re pretty sure we could hear Mike Babcock yelling in the background of her feed.
11:15 pm: We’ve also become convinced that the bottle caps Dan has affixed to his hoodie (aka his nipples) are magical and will prevent the Coyotes from scoring. Dan: “They can’t score. I’m wearing my nipples!” This makes complete sense to everyone in attendance.
11:30 pm: Game over. Celebration ensues.
11:35 pm: We decide that the reason the Coyotes fans were cheering at the end of the game was because they thought their team won. You see, what with the whole white out thing, they assumed that they were supposed to be rooting for the team that was wearing white. They’ve accidentally been rooting for the Wings this whole time. They also appeared to be confused by the fact that the teams were packing up and leaving before they played the fourth quarter.
12:00 am: Time to leave the commune. I force Tyler and Brent to take cupcakes. I’m quite assertive with my baked goods.
1:00 am: I finally make it back to Ann Arbor. This night could be characterized as a poor life decision if I hadn’t had so much fun.