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I'm so sorry I can't say THANK YOU individually for lovely London comments, but I assure you: THANK YOU. This is going to be the biggest adventure I've ever gone on. I'm a bit scared and a lot excited! :D

Too many!

Mar. 1st, 2010 01:15 pm
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Someone asked, so: the updated list of jerseys I own. Some secondhand and went for beans, some gifts; I really didn't blow upwards of fifty quid on *all* of these!

Boston Bruins
~Black, main jersey, blank

Buffalo Sabres
~Blue, original jersey, blank
~Red, third jersey, Connolly (#18 instead of #19)
~Navy, Buffaslug, blank
~White, Buffaslug, Drury
~White, Cow of Doom, Miller

Calgary Flames
~Black Demonic Firebreathing Horse, blank
~Red, Kiprusoff
~Red 1989 jersey, Fleury *signed*

New Jersey Devils
~White, Brodeur

San Jose Sharks
~Teal, new style, blank
~Teal, new style, Marleau
~Teal, old style, blank (2XL, never worn, drowns me!)
~Teal, old style, Thornton
~Teal, original jersey, blank
~White, old style, Nabokov

Today I bought a Team USA jersey. It had to be done. <3 (it needs to be here now)
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There's a meme going around. When you see this, post a poem. Any excuse to post this one basically, for it is wonderful.

Mary Oliver - Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

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On the one hand, Oh my god they look so fucking sad )

On the other hand there's this:

See that shiny silver thing? Yeah, you can't say it wasn't earned. <3

And I hear about Drury comforting Miller after the game? And him saying "No one knew our names. People know our names now"? I just keep on getting prouder.

And I'm done. Unless you know. There are even more photos or quotes or something. ;)

PS This just proves that Chris should ALWAYS be on the same team as Ryan. :P
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I wanted Gold for USA and there's no sense lying about it. But I'm not sad about silver. Not in the least. They said Team USA wouldn't make it past qualifying and look where they got to. They fought and battled and never gave up and they had hearts the size of someplace really big. I have never been so proud of a team. Or to be an honourary American. ;)

That aside though, these past two weeks have been the most fun I've had with hockey in years now. I remember why I love it. I remember why I admire those who play it. I've made new friends and reconnected with old ones. I've laughed and cheered and screamed and panicked and run the gamut of emotions. It has been wonderful from start to finish.

And I've watched these games with people all over the world. This game belongs to everyone, this game connects people, this game goes further than North America, so much further. Your game? Tonight it's your big moment and nothing can take that away from you. But hockey is loved the world over and that's something to be proud of.

Not a thing in the world can take away what's been achieved at these games. New fans have been made by them, old fans have remembered why they loved it.

It's a fucking wonderful thing. That and I got to see Chris Drury get his medal and my heart almost exploded with pride. So, so happy I got to see that for myself.

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Superstition commands I now post a photo immediately after the game. I am happy. USA gets a medal without a doubt, even though everyone said coming into this they were a complete joke.

But the biggest game is yet to come, so here's MR SRS FACE.

Get ready boys. The game of your life is waiting. I'm not American, but I'm so proud of this team.
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When I was a teenager I lived the clich├ęs, man. Lonely, awkward, bullied kid from a small town? Yeah, who wasn't? Nothing to do, nowhere to go, nobody to see. All I had was a radio.

Music was my life. This was before the internet, before you could have any music you wanted at a click, before custom-made radio on I had Steve Lamacq and John Peel and that was it. Mind you that was all I needed: a litany of wonderful bands who would never sell a record and it didn't matter. Bands who were, in hindsight, sometimes thunderingly shit, but that wasn't the point. The point was discovering the good stuff. The point was feeling excited about it, feeling like those DJs were sharing something they were genuinely cockahoop about with you. Everything else in life was rubbish, but how many kids in small towns felt that bit better for those radio shows? No small number, I'll bet.

Now I don't want Radio 1 to go back to that. That isn't the point. This isn't some romanticised yearning to be 16 again as I would rather put my face in a blender. It is, however, a way of saying "look, radio matters." Therefore 6music matters, the BBC station they want to kill. The BBC station which is the spirit of my teenage evenings writ large. The BBC station which isn't about bullshit except when George Lamb is on: it's about (and there's a clue in the title) MUSIC.

And oh I know, just go on you pillock. And I frequently do. It's good but it isn't the same. There's no personal touch. There's no getting to hear the joy someone has about sharing something they're genuinely excited about with you. There's no live stuff, that's for damn sure.

I don't mean to be Indie Bore, when I could shut up and listen to some pop music instead of 10,000 jingly jangly indie schmindie bands. But dammit I LIKE jingly jangly indie schmindie. That and, as pointed out on, if 6music goes, Radio 1 is going to be forced into being all things to all people again. Which means less pop. Which means everyone loses.

I grew up with the radio on constantly. It was a lifeline to a seriously unhappy youngster. When I was a seriously unhappy adult and had the energy for nothing BUT listening to the radio, it was a lifeline again. Discovering a song you love for the first time is one of life's eternal pleasures. Not all of us can go to gigs and find things on our own.

Music matters. Radio matters. That's why BBC 6music matters. I suspect to more than just myself.

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Feb. 24th, 2010 10:33 pm
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"Look how happy Chris is that you're back into hockey," says [ profile] lady_lilith:

Not as happy as me, Lily. Not as happy as me. :D

That game was insane. Three non-goals, two strikes for Parise, one shutout for the USA. Real shutout, not a "Ryan Miller shutout".

And what's everyone saying? About the heart of the team. About the shot blocking. And about how - yes - Drury is instrumental to that, and all that stuff some of us said all along: he never, ever gives up. Neither did the rest of the Americans.

I could not be happier or prouder. This is the first time I've ever adopted a national team. I'm pretty fuckin' happy with my choice. :)

ETA: Ron Wilson to the media: "Drury probably blocked more shots than you guys make typos."
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I feel a little insane writing this, mostly because I'm worrying about what other people think of me. What else is new?

Is it insane though that I feel more like myself than I have done in a couple of years because I have the hockey bug again? Is it crazy that some part of me needs this damn game in order to be happy?

It's not that I stopped loving it, it's that I stopped having time for it. That has the change; that's why I have weekends.

Hockey has an effect on me that I find hard to explain and always have, like it's wrong somehow and I love it more than I'm allowed to. But when I'm immersed in it then it's the best feeling in the world. It makes everything else go away for a while. It's a pure escapism that I had totally forgotten, and now I wonder how I ever forgot something like that.

Everyone says that you shouldn't define yourself by external things, but it feels like this is part of who I am. Hockey's my thing. I've missed it terribly, but now it feels like remembering who I am.

That sounds so much like I'm putting too much into it, doesn't it? Well all I can say is, everyday life goes on and it has to be dealt with. You have to find something else to uplift you. And there it is. It's back, baby. And me with it.

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For all the comments that USA-Canada wasn't a medal game, for all the comments that it doesn't really mean anything...

It means something alright; to the boys who went out there and won it, to Ryan Miller who worked like a dog out there, to those who wanted to prove that USA hockey is more than what everyone wrote it off as.

Will the USA make it much further? Don't know. But if it's true that all we have is now, then now is amazing. Nothing can take away tonight. It's untouchable.

Oh yeah and. Chris Drury? Doesn't belong on Team USA? BITE ME. I knew he still had the fire in him. I knew he was still clutch.

I am so proud of him. And Miller. And all of them.

ETA and to be selfish, regardless of whatever else it did or didn't mean...


THAT meant so much to me that I can't even begin to describe it.
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If there's any hockey better than Olympic hockey, it's a long fucking time since I've seen it.
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So, apparently, you don't have to pay for srapbook on LJ, you just have to get a plus account. I was under the impression that the 96874975 photos I had uploaded to my old account were lost forever. They are, you're about to find out, not. Oh and I know it isn't 2007 anymore, but ahead of the game tomorrow I feel I really should post these photos. It's an excuse to talk about Drury! And I don't want to lose them again! And I promised someone I would! And it's gonna make me grin for a week! SO without further ado...

Once upon a time in New York (state) )

So there's that: me nailing my colours to the mast. USA!

Fuck you, watermark! I mean, er. Yes. That's my player. More than any other.

ETA: oh! Yes! The hormone thing! This was on the info of my old journal: "Oh, and sometimes, I get squeeful over hockey boys. This merely means I am a human female in possession of hormones, it does not mean I am shallow, nor does it mean I don't love the sport. I love it as much as anyone. I would still watch the game and love it if they all looked like orcs. However, they do not, and fancying them does not preclude me from having a brain. :)"

ETA AGAIN: we have a late addition:

Good fucking god. Sweet dreams to me.
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I can't blog this because it doesn't fit with anonymity. There are people reading this who possibly know my history and know that I am that girl who always goes back to lit fireworks.

There are people I used to know that I now don't and I miss them. That's the basic fact. But, is that genuine missing or just because I feel lonely and am looking to fill the void? Are there things that happened that I'm blocking out and shouldn't try to overlook?

There are going to be things you should try and look past, but there's trying to be mature about it and there's fooling yourself. But I have stuff these people gave me and stuff they made me and every time I use them or look at them I remember, oh that person, we used to be so close, is there any way back? I drink my tea from a Bruins mug; I didn't buy myself that.

And I'm not saying I wasn't (and still am) hard to live with. I'm not saying none of this is my fault because that's blatantly untrue. But I walked away from situations because clearly both people in the equations were hurting.

Is it just nostalgia? Nostalgia is a lie: I read my old lj from 2007 last night and while it's full of the squee, but sad because the photos don't work, it's also full of me unable to sleep and in pain and just feeling like hell most of the time.

It's scary because to read it back it's obviously the journal of someone who was very, very unwell. But still I get so furious with myself because I don't have the ability to be fuelled by adrenaline and caffeine anymore. I had something then that I've lost now, an energy that I never got back after I crashed and burned. Apparently that's just age. And I need to grow up and accept it.

Is it the same with the old friends? That I need to just grow up and accept they're gone? There are people from those days I don't miss but there are people I dearly do. And maybe, maybe those things were misunderstandings that went too far and maybe there was never any need for this to happen.

I can't work it out.
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I don't work Fridays anymore, should probably have mentioned that at some point. I gave them up for health reasons. Less money, but also less feeling like death. So that's nice. It also meant I stayed up last night for the Canada-Switzerland game. This was an excellent decision for it was the best hockey game I've seen in ages.

I was only vaguely in support of Russia to start with. Because of Nabokov, of course. That's until I watched some games: Team USA has Ryan Miller and Chris Drury and Joe Pavelski. But Canada has Joe Thornton! Dan Boyle! PATRICK MARLEAU! And er Dany Heatley, who I was very upset to see taking a knock. Protective of Dany fucking Heatley. There's a thing I never thought would happen*.

Sweden has Douglas Murray. Finland is always excellent to watch. Czechs? The Czechs were fantastic fun in their first game. Even the Swiss, despite what I just said about Canada, made me like them - they played amazingly, especially (no it cannot be said enough) Jonas Hiller. It takes a lot for me to say something nice about a Duck, but international play is different. So - astonishing. Just played out of his skin last night.

In any case it's different when it's not an NHL game. Anyone in a Penguins uniform gets my unreserved rage and anger, but when they're playing for their country they're not the enemy anymore, they're some guy living a dream and representing. I find that very hard to hate, unless you happen to be Jarkko Ruutu, then I still hate your face.


Oh but it's alright for me, I'm not from anywhere. There's not even any ancestry for me to choose a country based on. It's not like I've bypassed the home country or something, there's no home country to choose. Picking it based on players you like clearly doesn't work, as you can see above, as you can even end up liking the players you normally hate.

So excuse me if I just like everyone, for different reasons, because the hockey is superb. And forgive me if I cannot choose at all between the USA and Canada for Sunday night. Just bring the game. Bring it good. SO EXCITED. Might have booked the next morning off so I can stay up. Oh dear.

It's funny, I was just reading a thing about how you sometimes need to get back to yourself and rediscover your joy and this might be it. When you're exhausted and hockey is in a silly timezone it's really hard to keep up with it. But it's never not been worth it. Maybe this is a reminder of how much I love this game, how much it fires me up.

On a related note, Fear Itself (And Monsters) has an update about What Sports Means, and why I got my Sharks tattoo that time. Watching Joe'n'Patty (and okay Dany) represent their country last night, I was never prouder to have teal on my wrist.

*I can't start on Dany Heatley, because I WILL upset someone. Let's just say I hope the people still making death cracks get a massive slap in the face one of these days.
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There's really bugger all point in updating LJ; I basically just wanted to say HELLO, I AM ALIVE and that I love hockey and here it comes creeping back: that huge obsession with Chris Drury. REMEMBER THAT? Remember 2007? Oh lord, that was a hockey year.

Anyway the point is, he's still my favourite current player. You have yer Nabbys and yer Joes and even yer Connollys but none of them are Chris Drury. And none of them mean as much. AND NONE OF THEM ARE IN AS GOOD AN ICON AS THAT ONE. Made it all by myself and everything. ~flail~

I know he's a Ranger and I know most people made WTF faces of their own about him being on Team USA but he's important. He's really important. He has heart and leadership and even though the theory goes his best scoring years are gone (or were knocked out of him - never have I ever been so upset by a hit) he still has that heart. He cares. He doesn't quit. He never did and he still doesn't.

It's enough to make a girl start seeing the Rangers on the sly. Almost.

Ooh that came out of nowhere. Back to my caaaave.

Olympics make me happy.
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It's Sunday. That means it's blog plug day.

Confession about depression in blog-sized pieces.

Life is as it ever was. I can't stop to think about that now, I will fall down.
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I promise one day I will update on something other than my blog. Today is not that day.

Fear Itself (And Monsters). This week updated with uncomfortable truths and the difficulty of speaking.

A favour

Jan. 24th, 2010 01:40 pm
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So yeah, I did already ask this to a certain extent, but now time has passed and I'm more sure of what I'm doing and how I feel.

I really really enjoy writing the blog, basically. I feel it helps a lot, and it's a whole different feel from writing on livejournal.

Half the reason it exists, though, was because it might help someone else. Which means that I would like other people to read it! I have no idea, though, how you get people to read a blog, other than word of mouth, so...

If you like the blog and feel it's worth sharing, please do pass it on. If you don't feel so, then, er, don't. :) And if you have passed it on already, thank you so much. - a blog about depression and recovery and not being alone.

Promise to not mention it again for at least s week! x

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Jan. 16th, 2010 03:16 pm
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The facts are these:

1) I miss writing
2) But not in LJ
3) I don't want to blog about hockey again
4) I can't be bothered to blog about music as there's too much to keep up with
5) The only other subject I can write loads about is depression
6) ...ah

Now, this is probably going to happen. But I'm a bit wary. Sarah already raised the possibility of awful, awful trolls but I think I'm better equipped to deal with those now. There are two other things bugging me more, though.

The first is: I hate walking into Waterstones and seeing an entire section dedicated to "painful lives". I'm sure that writing those books helped the authors and I'm sure some people find solace in reading them. But I'm a bit concerned that it's now a genre in its own right, and I'm a bit concerned about the accusations of cashing in on pain that fly about. So if I write about depression - and obviously the only experience I can directly write about it my own - what's the difference between me and those people?

Well, I guess I'm not asking anyone to pay for it. And I'm sure an awful lot of those writers had the intention that I have: maybe by writing about this will help someone else, maybe someone else will know they're not alone. Hmm. Tricky.

The second is the anonymity thing. Now, I'm very careful with my real name and don't intend to call myself "Kez" on this. I don't intend, either, to link out from the new blog to this lj or my twitter account. But if I'm going to get people to read it - and I'm afraid I do want people to read it, no point taking the high road and saying I don't - I'll have to link out the other way around!

Trolling is the one worry, the other worry is the practice of employers looking you up online to see whether you're a twat or not. Real name and picture and all that stuff won't be on there, but still, is it too much of a risk? A blog saying "hello, I have an illness" isn't going to be the best ad for, well, very much of anything really.

But. You see, Chris posted this last night: "Write the blog that you wish you had found when you were ten years younger."

So I want to do it, but thinking about the logistics of it is a bit more of a headache. So... ADVICE PLEASE. Thank you. Oh and if you're in favour of it, can you think of a good title? That'd be much appreciated.

Thank you, and thank you for the comments last night, too. :) <3


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Kerrie Sakura

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