I think my Fairy Godmother is on a Cigarette Break.

It all started with a Hockey injury.  No, I don't play Hockey, which is a pity.  I love the game so.  In fact, I can't even ice skate.  How 'bout that?  I can manage quite beautifully in 6-inch stilettos but not on ice skates.  No, what befell me on Wednesday night started as a joyous blessing.  My dear, sweet, lovely (if you can use those words to describe a couple dozen hairy, sweaty, testosterone-filled, short-tempered men who wield sticks and may or may not still have all their own teeth) Boston Bruins beat the Vancouver Canucks 4-0, and won their first Stanley Cup since 1972.  As the final buzzer sounded in Rogers Arena in Vancouver and various Bruins enfolded one another in bear hugs, I began shrieking and jumping about in raucous celebration of this miracle.  On my last leap, I came down on my feet wrong and HARD and proceeded to pull the hell out of my left calve muscle.  Cue even louder shrieking and a few choice words.  I've been icing my leg and limping about ever since. It's not fun.  I can't do T-Tapp.  I'm eating absolute garbage, I can't wear cute shoes.  The only enjoyable thing left to me is reading.  Thank goodness for books.  I am currently plowing my way through another entry on my BBC book list:  The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas.  It's a corking good read and helps me to forget about my bum leg and the fact that the car is REALLY going to hell fast.  I think it's going to have to go in Monday.  I hope it'll last that long.  I went for lunch with my cousin this afternoon and that damn heap of junk had me sweating bullets.  The good thing is that I had a cheeseburger with sweet chili sauce served on a bun made out of pretzel dough and it was AWESOME!  The restaurant also had butcher paper and a glass of crayons on each table so my cousin and I amused ourselves by drawing farm animals until our food arrived.  Too bad chocolate milk wasn't on the beverage menu, we could've blown bubbles.

There are 108 days til the NHL regular season starts up again and probably about 130 days til the college and amateur Hockey seasons begin around here.  I have no clue where C.G. is and I'm ambivalent at present.  Right now I don't give a damn if he falls off the edge of the earth or decides to put on a sirloin suit and wrestle lions.  Ten minutes from now I'll be biting my nails, wondering where he is, what he's up to, if he's chasing floozies...The car's going to take at least $500 to fix the fuel intake gasket and another $150 or so for the fuel injector.  My limp is pulling me to the left.  It hurts, too.  That'll take at least another week to heal.  I'm still struggling a bit with fear of doing/taking risks/low confidence.  And I'm eating too much trashy food.  Everything feels really out of control right now and I'm kind of scared.  I could've sworn that I had a fairy godmother at some point but right now I can't find the b*tch.  I'm not sure if she's out back having a smoke or if she knocked off really early and joined a bunch of other fairy godmothers at some dive bar for Happy Hour and 1/2-price appetizers.  I don't care if she wants to go out drinking but I wish she'd take me with her because I'd love a Long Island Iced Tea.  And if I can't go bar-hopping with her, I wish she'd just leave me her magic wand for a few hours.  A couple of swoops with that thing and I'd have $20 billion, a new Nissan Altima, a great body (hello bodacious tatas!) and the face of an angel.  All I need are those few basics.