I Thought Family Was Supposed to Make Life Easier?

In a previous post, Bella already talked about the issues that “good-looking” Brother Bella and Brother Heidi bring into our already miserable lives. I want to expand on this family crusade, but from a different angle that I experience more often than is actually necessary.

Apart from being linked to the “Now those eyes get you laid” Brother Heidi (I’m not kidding. Some random girl went up to him and said that), I have the unpleasant pleasure of having both my parents looking much younger than they actually are. Momma Heidi is 47, and Dadda Heidi is 49.

Now, most of my psychological problems arise when I am seen with Dadda Heidi. Keep in mind, I am 21 years old, which is 28 years younger than Dadda Heidi – pretty big gap, no? That’s what I thought. However, the entire world’s populace is either a) blind or b) just plain stupid.

When I was 16, Dadda Heidi took Brother Heidi and myself to Cuba for the first time for March Break. At this point, Dadda Heidi was 44 and Brother Heidi a mere 14 years of age. While down there on an excursion we made friends with some pretty funny/ridiculously idiotic people. After Dadda Heidi chatted it up for a while, one of the ladies said, “Oh, so you are on vacation with your wife and son?”

Silence.

Double U – Tea – Eff?!

No kid should have to go through that. Not only would that be insanely wrong on every level, but it is just plain STUPID. I did not look like I was old enough to have a teenage son, as I was still a teenager myself, let alone marry someone who is OBVIOUSLY much older. Needless to say, Dadda Heidi could barely get off the bus due to the instantaneous enlargement of his ego. And I wonder where Brother Heidi gets it from?

This scenario has happened many times since then, but the most recent event that triggered this post is from this past weekend in Montreal.

While in the grocery store, again, my over-talkative father gets to talking to two ladies (mother/daughter) behind us. He tells them that he is here with “his daughter.” Their reaction…you don’t want to know, or maybe you do, so you can make fun of me as well. It went along the lines of, “You’re not old enough to have a daughter that old.” Excuse me? I’m 21, thanks. He’s going to be half a century old next year. Naturally, he had to run back to the hotel and tell Grandpa Heidi (who is insanely like Dadda Heidi and Brother Heidi. It’s a male Heidi thing, I guess).

That’s the worst humiliation ever. With Momma Heidi it is a little more acceptable, when everyone thinks that we are sisters. I can deal with that, just because of who she is. The other way, though, is going to give me a complex.

Not only did I get cursed with “leftover” genetics, as dubbed by Bella, but also with parents who make me feel extremely old for my age. All I have to say is that I better age well – if I don’t, FML, it’ll be proof that I was adopted.

As much as I wouldn't wish this upon anyone, I hope other people are in the same boat as me. It would make sinking much faster.

Life: 1. Heidi: -5

Ciao,

- A Very Unlucky and Genetically Mutated Heidi

Drinks and Movie Never Lasted So Bloody Long

As I've already wrote a post about the ups and downs of online dating, this is, if you will, the second part. Meeting the guy you talk to online.

Heidi, my dear friend Heidi, set us up on a double blind date with a guy she had been chatting with and his best friend. Sounded like a great idea until I actually met "my guy." Let's call him Paul.

Heidi and I had made plans to meet Paul and his friend, who we'll call James. It was the first meeting, and nerves were at an all time high as we watched them approach us in front of a restaurant that was set up as the meeting point. They walk toward us, we turn around and smile, and they smile back. I look at James (nice! He's cute, lucky Heidi), to Paul, who has not so fantastic teeth and looks like one of the Beatles in the sixties. Awesome.

We continue on to the pub where we've planned to have drinks before heading to the movie theatre to partake in a viewing of "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen" (check out the movie website if you don't know what the movie is all about - transformersmovie.com). We sit down, order the drinks, and they launch into a conversation about truck engines and the funny adventures that they get into, all the while arguing with each other about who is correct in their information - I honestly thought I was watching a couple argue. If I didn't know any better (and maybe I don't), I would have thought that they were in a relationship. Add to the fact that they mention that Paul was in the bathroom shaving while James was having a shower, and I was seriously freaked out.

I literally didn't have anything to add to the conversation as I don't know anything about trucks and their engines and, let's be honest, my heart wasn't really in the date to begin with.

There's also something to be said about a guy that is so obnoxious that he makes fun of someone he's just met, who is also the best friend of his date. James, to whom I wasn't listening in the first place, nicely remarked that "I can make fun of Bella right to her face and she just smiles". Excuse me?

I was ready to be done the date in about an hour, but we stayed at the bar for about 2 and a half hours, after which we finally decided to go to the movie. I sat beside Heidi, with Paul on my other side, and I don't think I've ever sat so close to Heidi in a movie before. I also don't think I've had a guy I've just met sit so close to me in the movie theatre before. I'm pretty sure he was leaning OVER the arm rest (he had initially asked if it moved up, and I put as much pressure on it as I could to make sure that he didn't move it up).

I kept leaving the theatre as much as I could without being too annoying to text my friend about the crappiness of both the date and movie, which should not be seen if you haven't seen the first one and don't enjoy movies about robots fighting. The love story part was really cute, but only took place in about four scenes, so I spent the time admiring Megan Fox's wardrobe while hating her for her gorgeousness, and thinking about how Shia LaBeouf has grown up nicely from his "Even Stevens" days.

All in all, that date wasn't one of the better ones that I've been on, not that I've been on a lot of great ones to begin with. Unfortunately, I can't seem to shake the curse that has the guy that I want not wanting me.

Oh, love, how I hate thee.

Love,

Bella

“He’s Just Not That Into You” (2009)

Fact....or fiction?

Okay, so, this movie captures the dating life of many females in society. The film revolves around a couple of different relationships, each with their own angle and plot. The main focus, though, involves a woman named Gigi (Ginnifer Goodwin) who basically plays the hopeless romantic who just wants to find love. However, along the way she encounters various men, each of whom she brutally realizes (with the help of a rather blunt Alex, played by Justin Long) are truly not into her. She falls for every little thing her at-the-time love-interest says, does, or feels (or, rather, how she thinks they feel). Any potential guy could be “the one” that she doesn’t want to miss out on. Alex became her crutch to help her realize that not every guy (or in her case, no guy) liked her, that they weren’t going to call, and that they would not want to see her again. Heart wrenching, I KNOW!

While guys are able to be brutally honest with their thoughts, girls, when asked for advice, try to make the person feel better instead of facing the imminent facts. The girl friends tend to give reasons as to why there has been no attempt at communication since that day. According to the movie, these excuses include, but are not limited to, claims that, “he’s just scared of your emotional maturity,” or “you’re just too pretty, and too awesome,” or “he just got out of a serious relationship,” or “trust me, it’s because he’s never had a serious relationship.” And the list goes on, and on…and freaking on. Is it sad that I just listed all those without watching the movie? Maybe now you will begin to understand what I do with my spare time. Anyways, let’s get back on track. Maybe it’s because it’s easier to think of and reach for excuses rather than facing the truth that he just really doesn’t like you enough to want to get to know you better. I mean, when you think about it….say you meet someone and after talking for a while they just walk away. You’d call him a jerk (or other choice words) for not asking for your number, or, in this day and age, a MSN address or full name so that he can find you on Facebook. So, by taking your number, maybe he feels as though he’s doing you a favour and letting you down “easy.” Or, even better, maybe he thinks that you would forget about it by the time you drunkenly (or not so drunkenly) got home that night – fat chance, but hey…I’m not venturing into that twisted labyrinth that people call a mind. Let’s be brutally honest here: I think that I’d rather have that scenario than be told flat out that he doesn’t WANT my number. Again, it’s just easier to justify to yourself, and your friends, and whoever else witnessed the event that he didn’t get around to calling than having to say he didn’t WANT to call. True story.

Well, now that you have experienced the cynical part of the blog that we warned you about, maybe there is a rainbow after the storm afterall. Maybe you’re lucky enough to actually manage to get a call (or, more likely, a text message). Chances are that you have been glued to your phone and haven’t left a room (let alone have it out of arms reach) without it. Text etiquette: remember it, and if you don’t know it, learn it…quick. Not everyone is a “texter.” By “texter” I mean someone who is willing to have MSN-worthy conversations through a credit card sized device with buttons the size of Tic-Tacs, known as a cell phone. If you have a sent/received text ratio greater than 2:1, or, more likely 5:1…knock it off…get it down to 1:1 even though it’s HARD and seems impossible…I'll admit, I know that I’m not one to talk. I am guilty of being a text addict. If there was a textaholics anonymous…I’d be the weakest member, guaranteed.
I feel that it is appropriate to enter a quote from the movie right about now, with having cell numbers, BlackBerry pins, voicemail, MSN, Facebook…etc. etc….as ways of communication:

“I had this guy leave me a voice mail at work, so I called him at home, and then he emailed me to my BlackBerry, and so I texted to his cell, and then he emailed me to my home account, and the whole thing just got out of control, and I miss the days when you had one phone number and one answering machine, and that one answering machine had one cassette tape, and that one cassette tape either had a message from the guy or it didn’t, and now you just have to go around checking all these different portals just to get rejected by seven different technologies. It’s exhausting.”

Couldn’t be further from the truth.

So, there’s my insight of what I have collected from this movie when combined with my rather large collection of other timeless romantic comedies, and the very little I have from personal experience. Movies never lead you astray though, I mean come on, I’ve always wanted to be a night security guard at a museum to see all of the exhibits come to life at night [Night at the Museum, for all you who don’t know]. Anything past this, I wish you the best of luck. Whatever comes of it feel free to let me know…this is getting out of my area of expertise (not like I had any to begin with, though…).

Wow…this post is making life so much clearer by the sentence. I should have started this thought process ten years ago. This is all I’m going to write, however, while continuing to watch this fabulous, life-changing movie I will document notes that I deem either worthy or absurd.

- Quote: “If a guy is a jerk to you, he likes you.”
Not only did Disney ruin our lives, but teachers and any other adult that ever told you that phrase as a child helped to dig your grave, too.

- Gigi ends a date with Colin, and calls her friend saying that she thinks that Colin is leaving her a message on her home phone right that instant.
Clearly, he wasn’t, but was calling up another girl. Who actually calls right after a date, anyways?

- The “spark.”
According to the movie it doesn’t exist, but is an excuse to not see someone again

- The movie does show a guy who acts similarly to Gigi, but with one female instead of every random guy.
Wow, who knew…?

- If he’s not calling you, he doesn’t want to call you. The best quote of the movie regarding the tragedy of caller ID is, “If a guy doesn’t call me I would like to preserve the right to call him in 15 minute intervals until he picks up. But, if he looks down and sees my number he would think that I’m a psycho or something, which I’m not...obviously.”

That pretty much sums it up. Of course, Gigi and Alex end up together. It IS a romantic comedy here, people!

***Note: I am well aware that this is a drastically different topic than my last posts. My hockey life is over, thus something else needs to fill the void until something exciting happens.

Ciao!
-Heidi

Sexism in "Cosmopolitan" Magazine

I am an avid reader of Cosmopolitan magazine, and I thoroughly enjoy the many beauty, relationship, and fashion tips, as well as the entertainment that it provides. Before the April 2009 issue, I was not strongly opposed to any subject or article presented within the magazine. Despite the many articles about men and relationships with them, I found most of the articles to be based on the needs and wants for a woman, rather than solely focused on the pleasure of a man. That being said, the article entitled “A Dating Coach Gives His No-BS Tips” by Steven Ward promotes the pleasure of a man at the expense of a woman’s true self.

As a student who has earned a degree that includes studying a wide range of feminist literature and theory, I am very aware of the struggle of women in the past (and today) to be appreciated for the complex beings that we are. Feminine power and discourse has come a very long way in gaining respect in society, but articles like this one reinforce the oppressing binary of the dominant, powerful male and the inferior, submissive female. The following quotation from Ward’s article is what I determine to be the ultimate example that promotes submissiveness in women:

A man, you see, would like to think he wears the pants – whether he does or not – so help him feel confident. On the first couple of dates, agree to agree. Be available. Be up for going anywhere. His responsibility is to make the date as fun, cool, and entertaining as possible. Your responsibility is to make it easy for him to do that. (158)

There are a number of issues that I have with this “advice”. First of all, I understand where Ward is coming from in regards to making the man feel as though he “wears the pants” – a man needs to feel confident and secure as much as women do. However, allowing a man to assume that he has the control, while the woman thinks differently, creates a disconnection between the man and the woman. The relationship is already beginning on the basis of a power struggle, when both parties should be working in unison, together, on an even level. Categorizing the organization of the date as a man’s duty and the woman’s duty as making the organization easy for the man places each person in a socially constructed (by the magazine) position to which they must adhere. In our modern times, there should not be a division of control or a set social position for either party. The man no longer has to be the organizer of the date – both parties should be able to create a date that incorporates their own interests, so that neither one has to compromise their interests for the sake of the other. A woman can still be easy-going while putting forth her own ideas.

I understand that dating tips are sought out by women, but these specific dating tips suggest that a woman should put the man’s pleasure first. Of course, this magazine is centred on advice for women, but there are other ways to give advice that does not promote submissiveness in women, such as taking an equal amount of responsibility in the organization of a date or each person adhering to his and her own schedule and working around each one.

However, this is not to say that a woman should have an “equal” position to a man – femininity and masculinity are not to be considered in relation to each other but as separate entities, each with its own uniqueness. As such, Ward’s statement that women should “agree to agree” was appalling to me as a modern woman in society. In essence, this statement is suggesting that a woman should agree with a man despite her own opinions. If a heady subject was introduced into the conversation, a woman taking this advice to heart may not be convinced to offer her opinion. Hopefully this advice would not be taken to this degree; however, the fact that it could be taken as such is problematic. Perhaps this was not Ward’s intent, but this is what I infer from his “advice”.

Moreover, advising one to “be available” and “be up for going anywhere” is suggested to avoid irritating one’s date, and Ward suggests that a woman should not “irritate” a man by telling him that she is unavailable for the next two weeks. Irritate?! What if a man was unavailable for two weeks? Ward does not touch on this reversal, which perhaps he should, but, from previous articles that I have read in this magazine over the years, I propose that a woman would be given the advice that a man has his own life or to accept that he will be unavailable and plan things during those two weeks to keep busy. Ward suggests that the “unavailable for two weeks” is a ploy that women use to seem “attractive and interesting”. This supposition is severely degrading to women – to suppose that a woman is only claiming to be busy in order to act coy around a man implies that a man’s impression is, to a woman, of the utmost importance, which places him in a superior position. Granted, some women may play this game, but I sincerely hope that the modern woman has enough respect for herself to avoid playing silly games at the expense of her dignity.

Ward essentially suggests that women should put things that matter on hold to adhere to a man’s schedule, in order to keep him content. While Ward deems Grey’s Anatomy and spinning class trivial enough to be skipped, it is not up to a man to decide the importance of something in a woman’s life. She should not have to give up something that she deems important in order to please a man.

The introduction to the article warned that Ward’s advice would be harsh and “biting”, but it does not warn the readers that it would also be sexist. In a world in which women are continually struggling for recognition of their own uniqueness, this article takes a step back in feminine power and suggests that women’s motives when dating a man are based completely around his pleasure and his impression of her, which places her back into a submissive position. Not only is this article insulting, it also implies that women have “bad habits” that are hindering their love life. Perhaps this article should be promoting a woman’s independence and, in a society that still gives preference to men, reassuring women that they do not have to fit into the stereotypical mould of a complying woman.

I guess you could say that I'm a feminist, and I would totally agree. Feminists aren't all crazed lesbians (not my opinion, but the general one) that hate men. I happen to think men are wonderful and I'm obviously on the lookout for one. Rather, feminists are women who feel that our gender should be celebrated for what it is and lobbied for against those who still believe in women as inferior. I mean, let's face it, we're pretty awesome.

Love,

Bella

The Search For Love...

Dating. It's fun, right? It's exciting to get dressed up and go out with a cute (sometimes) guy that may or may not be the potential love of your life. Sometimes you meet the guy through a friend or through a blind date set up by a mutual acquaintance, or maybe you meet him at work or at the gym. But sometimes, you meet him online.

Online dating is an avenue that I've been down a time or two, but I've never really had much luck with the guys that I've met through email. Every time I get a message or view a profile of a good looking and charming-sounding guy (I'm too chicken to actually SEND him a message), I can't help but wonder why he's on the site if he's such a great guy. Okay, I'm on it, too, but that's because I'm painfully shy when it comes to meeting and pursuing guys in person. Seriously, just ask Heidi. She introduces me to her friend and it takes me about a month and half to actually allude to him that I may be interested, and even then I don't put it all out there. I have a terrible fear of rejection; however, I won't delve into that topic too much, as I've been informed that if I sound too self-deprecating, then I'll put people off reading the blog. Oops.

Online dating can be exhilarating. I sit down at my computer, log into the site, and anxiously see if I've received any messages. When I do, I fervently read each email and scan the poor bugger's profile to see if he sounds like a good guy. Of course, he does - everyone on that site sounds effing fantastic, because they want to make themselves sound desirable to the opposite (or same, no judging here) sex.

Seriously, how many guys out there "don't take life too seriously" or, my personal favourite, "enjoy great sex"? Alright, who doesn't? It could just be me, but that totally turns me off. If you have to say you enjoy great sex, chances are that you haven't actually experienced it. Any self-respecting female would not want to be with a guy to prove to him that she can provide the great sex that he so clearly craves. Then again, maybe self-respecting females, Heidi and myself aside, don't venture on to dating sites.

Dating is a tricky game. Sure, it can be enjoyable, but the main reason for one to date is to find someone with whom they are compatible and with whom they can enter into a relationship. The lucky ones find their "soul mate" through the normal way, while the not-so-lucky ones exhaust every outlet of matchmaking in the hope of finding someone to cuddle up to on a Saturday night with popcorn and a romantic comedy. Right now, that sounds exactly like the Saturday night activity that Heidi and I often enjoy, aside from the cuddling. Obviously.

Happy Soul Mate Hunting!

Love,

Bella

Coyotes Will Continue to Suffer in Southwest

It has just been released that the Phoenix Coyotes will remain in Arizona, to the dismay of Canadian moneybags Jim Balsillie. Balsillie offered to buy the distressed team for $212.5 million. However, the catch was that the team would be relocated to the glorious North, and be placed in the oh-so-wonderful city of Hamilton. The NHL wasn’t too keen on this demand, and instead wants a local sucker to take the bait and buy the team so that it can stay in Phoenix, who just spent a ridiculous $183 million on constructing a new arena. Apparently, if no such person can be tricked into buying an already disastrous team by the time the season comes around, the League itself will finance it for the 2009-2010 season…I’d like to see how long that lasts. I don’t doubt that if noone “local” is found that Balsillie will be back in the game trying to bring another team to Canada. And who knows, maybe if the League realizes that noone really wants an unstable team in Phoenix, Balsillie (or some other stupidly rich person) will get the team for less.

Let’s talk about the geographics for a minute. Arizona is located in the middle of nowhere in the Southwest United States. It is surrounded by California, New Mexico, Nevada, Utah, Colorado, and the U.S.’s best friend, Mexico. Say what you will, most of these states are crazy hot and end up with dry spells where water is scarce, let alone having ice anywhere other than the ice cube tray in the freezer. Again, stereotyping, but the residents of these areas are likely to be ones that are particularly susceptible to the conception that we, as Canadians, live in igloos with our pet polar bears year round, and where instead of going to elementary school we have hockey school for the general population, and zamboni school for the athletically-challenged. Ice hockey just doesn’t seem to be at home in Phoenix. Maybe they should try ball hockey. Let’s look at ticket prices, just for kicks and giggles: on the Coyotes’ website they advertise season’s tickets for the upcoming 2009-2010 season for as low as $49.95 per MONTH. Are you kidding me?! Even with the conversion to Canadian monies it’s an absolute max of $60-65. You can’t even buy a single Leafs’ game ticket for that much, let alone an entire month worth of games! You would have to kill a unicorn to be able to afford season’s tickets at the ACC. Believe me, I’ve never been to a Leafs game due to the contract one is forced to sign upon purchasing the ticket. The contract, as I recall, was as follows:

I, ____________, agree to pay the Air Canada Center the price of the ticket ($_____) in the following methods: 1) the actual price of ticket, as has been added to my current mortgage and will thus be paid for, in full, in 25 years time; 2) As payment for interest, I agree to have my left arm and right leg amputated, as well as giving my right kidney to the team to send to Sick Kids Hospital in Toronto; and, if applicable, a warrant for my first born to train as a water boy or girl for the team until they reach the age of 21.

It’s ridiculous. I would have put actual numbers in, but ticket information isn’t up on the site yet. However, the ACC is always sold out; even with the poor results that so often plagues the adored team and the recession that has hit the nations. Phoenix has to practically give the tickets away for free, and even then, if a lawn bowling game came up the entire audience would probably flock to it, with the odd few who would stay behind to really see what this “sport” is all about (ya know, the one with the funny-lookin’ helmets and shoes with metal strips nailed to them). Although this exact description is probably way off from the truth (remember those distorted facts we warned you about?), the team has lost more than $300 million dollars since it moved to Phoenix from Canada (Winnipeg, MB) in 1996. Doesn’t that tell you something? The Phoenix Coyotes, while in Arizona, will remain the Chrysler of the NHL, with the League itself as the new Obama.

The city and the NHL did not want the team to leave Phoenix, but they were not alone. We just went through how crazy Leafs fans are. I mean, who is willing to go into debt and give up their child’s adolescence and teenage years for 60 minutes of hockey? Oh, right…us. If the team was moved to Hamilton, Ontario, it would create a cluster of NHL teams in a small area – good for fans, bad for business. Thanks to MapQuest, Hamilton is only 47 minutes away from the home of the Toronto Maple Leafs, and only 1 hour and 50 minutes away from the Buffalo Sabers. Chances are, the new Coyotes audience would resemble a collage of blue and white. The home of the hated Ottawa Senators is over 5 hours from the ACC; however, that does not stop Leafs fans from flocking to their arena where they often drown out the cries of the pigheaded Sens bandwagon jumpers. Maybe, for once, the ACC would be challenged to lower their prices to make some sort of competition. Nice thinking. There will still be the diehards who find money to go to a home game. Meh, its business, you can’t fight it, even in a recession. I have no doubt that the Coyotes would do well in an area that eats, sleeps, and breathes hockey, but it’s also politics. I don’t understand that chaos, nor do I care to. I have enough of my own stuff to worry about rather than trying to figure out someone else’s hidden agenda in that realm.

Better luck this season trying to fill some seats, Phoenix. You’re going to need it… along with actual fans.

Peace out!
-Heidi

"Oh, Your Brother Is So Good Looking!"

Heidi and I both have the unfortunate (or fortunate, depending on who you talk to) situation of being siblings with two good looking brothers, which I admit very begrudgingly. Brother Bella is 2 years older, while Brother Heidi is 3 years younger, but they both still garner a lot of attention from friends and relatives of the opposite sex (and probably of the same sex, which I'm not sure bothers Brother Bella too much - read his blog that he writes with a friend for proof: http://gretzposito.blogspot.com/ - he's Tewks).

Sure, I know I'm not hideously ugly or anything, and I've had a few guys show some interest, but Brother Bella won the genetic lottery, while I got the leftovers that couldn't possibly fit into his DNA. I realize that I'm making him sound like the best looking guy around, which may or may not be true and depends on who is doing the judging, but the general consensus around his looks is that they're pretty damn good.

(I expect that any women who read this blog will be rather intrigued at this point, but no, I am not setting my brother up with anyone at any time).

My sad dating resume isn't cause for comparing the popularity of my brother and I but, let's be honest, most of the guys I've dated hadn't even graduated high school at the time...and this is when they were in their 20s. But I digress.

On numerous occasions, family members have gushed over Brother Bella's good looks and muscular physique that he keeps in top form for his auditions as both an actor and model. And no, I'm not making this up. I actually think my self-esteem is dipping lower than ever as I write this, and I didn't think that was possible. I think everyone can sympathise when an elderly relative says to him "look at you, so handsome!" and then turns to me with "hi Bella." Enough said.

I love my brother, really I do. But there are only so many times that I can hear how fantastic he is before I start to think that I'm the worst looking person in the world. Add to the fact that Brother Bella used to tell me I was adopted from the Frog Face Family and, well, can you blame me?

Excuse me whilst I go cry into a large bowl of chocolate ice cream.

Love,

Bella

Detroit Seeks Continued Access to Stanley Cup: Access DENIED

Tonight, Friday June 12th, 2009, was the night that the Detroit Red Wings lost to the Pittsburgh Penguins in game seven of the Stanley Cup Finals. Home town (or, in this case, Hockeytown) advantage failed, as the Wings lost in no place other than their own octopus-loving Joe Louis Arena.

This scenario rarely happens: the home team in game seven of the Stanley Cup Finals has a record of winning 12-2. Pittsburgh just surprisingly made those odds 12-3. On top of those chances, which were clearly against the visiting Cup-thirsty Penguins, were the intimidating results of Detroit’s home game wins in the playoffs prior to game seven, which was 11-1. The Penguins’ results for away games were not putting them in any better shape, sitting at 6-6. Anyone who has ever played any kind of sport or been involved in any activity knows that the crowd can make a world of difference in player mentality, adrenaline, and confidence…in other words, anything that is vital to winning a game by stimulating the players. Wings fans, even with their rather off-the-wall traditions, are second only to us crazy Leafs fans. Although, the atmosphere of the arena definitely does not seem to help the beloved Toronto Maple Leafs during the season…but let’s not go there right now. It hurts too much. I’ll admit, I really hoped that Pittsburgh would win (Detroit just needs to share some things…and with the same playoff matchup, it’s only fair) but when asked who I thought would win, I am guilty of claiming that Detroit would likely take it...again.

The Pittsburgh Penguins proved the stats, Hockeytown, sports gurus, many logical fans, and myself all wrong. Props to the underdog. I apologize for my lack of confidence in you. Perhaps I have been a Leafs fan for too long. I can only imagine the number of dead octopuses that were hidden away in Detroit fans’ bags just waiting for the opportunity to be thrown out onto the ice as the Red Wings held that beloved Stanley Cup on their rink. The useless, disgusting corpses will now probably end up as sushi in a sketchy restaurant, or in the freezer waiting for next year. Only in America would those slimy suckers be idolized. Personally, they give me the heebie-jeebies!!

When the puck was dropped at 8:11p.m., the Penguins came on strong, but the Wings had also put pressure on early. If Marc-Andre Fleury was at all nervous, he had a matter of seconds to get into the biggest game of his career. In the three games played in Hockeytown during the 2009 playoff series, Fleury let in 11 goals. Throughout the game, I wasn’t sure how many horseshoes he must have had hidden in that bulk of equipment, but the number had to have steadily increased as the periods went by. After some amazing saves, the puck slipped right by him without his noticing that it wasn’t stopped under his pads. Later, in the third period at an intensely crucial point in the game, a shot was fired off of the crossbar, which perhaps saved the Pens from having to go into overtime. Fleury rewarded his goal post by petting it, along with a widening grin that would give Jim Carrey a run for his money. I guess there is logic as to why some goalies say that they are going to marry their goal posts. Fleury really showed his true colours during the last minute of the game, where he somehow managed to create an impenetrable wall against those annoying Wings who made a fierce attempt to blow past the Penguin defence and stay in the game. With the Penguins only up by one goal and only mere seconds left, the slightest mistake could have pushed the game into sudden death overtime. Luckily, it never came to that.

Sidney Crosby, on the other hand, can not be given as much credit in the end result of the series. Sure, he’s the captain of the team (which, personally, I feel he should not be – not because he isn’t a good player, but because he is way too young (21) and lacks experience! Seriously! Too much, too quick…but anyways, I’m not the coach…moving on). The superstar did not score a single goal against Detroit in the series; seems like Zetterberg did his job about keeping him off the scoreboard (and, thanks to Johan Franzen’s awkward hit, off the ice for the last half of the game). Glad that there were others on the roster that were able to step up, do some fancy puck-handling and fire away at great opportunities that beat Osgood. The real hero, though, next to Fleury, was Max Talbot who was the only Penguin to get a goal on the scoreboard….twice.

For the third time in franchise history, the Penguins bring the greatest prize in sports home to Pittsburgh after beating Detroit 2-1. Enjoy it, next year it will be visiting the ACC…wait…let’s finish in the top eight first, then we’ll talk Quarterfinals, Conference Finals, and Stanley C---ah, forget it!

Sayonara, Hockey Night in Canada. May my summer nights refrain from being fulfilled by reruns of Survivor, America’s Next Top Model, and whatever else fills your glorious time slot during the season.

Until October!

Yours in Waiting,
- Heidi

Welcome To Our Lives...

We, Bella and Heidi, met in high school 8 years ago, and quickly became fast friends. Bonding over our mutual love of country music and romantic comedies, as well as our perpetual single status and our inability to expand our social circles, we evolved into the best of friends and became literally inseparable.

Many people claim to be best friends (or besties, as we've coined ourselves), but very few actually are as close as we are. Texting is our main form of communication when we're not together (which isn't often), and it has come to the point where we often send each other texts at the very same moment and sometimes about the very same topic, even when there has been no texting going on up until that point. Our parents don't even have to ask who we're frantically texting, as we're each other's only friend, and it's either "tell Bella to get back to work" or "Heidi should be resting, tell her to stop texting." You know when you can just look at someone and you know what they're thinking? That's us. We're pretty awesome.

It may seem like we're closer than two people should be, which we get harassed about on many occasions by our respective brothers - and we would hate to know what goes through our parents' minds - but we're just two peas in a pod that are more like sisters than friends.

Our blog will detail our lives, interests, and rants, with topics ranging from dating (or lack thereof), guys, the odd sports article (Heidi), exercise and weightloss (Bella), movies, and our desire to live vicariously through any and all romantic comedies. As a general rule, we're fluent in sarcasm, extremely self-deprecating and, if we can be so bold to say, pretty funny - or at least we think so. Keep this in mind if you continue to read our blog - we're not depressed, it's just our way of coping.

Love,

Bella and Heidi