nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-HEY!

After Friday’s obvious avoidance to packing, I hit the ground running Saturday morning. I spent 7 ½ hours consolidating stuff, packing up boxes, labeling things, and making a lovely little pile for Rob to sort through when he gets home this week.

Saturday night, however, was a different story. There would be no boxing up, sorting or even thinking about Casa Saratoga. You see, for Christmas this year, Kellie and I had bought tickets to the Sharks/Red Wings game for our Dad. No family on earth bonds over hating things quite like mine, and the Red Wings (and Jeff Gordon) are prime targets. I knew that our seats were good, but I didn’t expect to be quite so close to the glass. Literally, six people sat between me and the ice. Six.

The game was AWESOME. In fact, awesome doesn’t begin to cover it. Scoring went back and forth and back and forth and there were no fewer than eight fights per period. We sat in the corner on the end that the Sharks attacked for two periods…so rad. Three minutes into the first period, Clowe/Cheechoo/Pavelski (ugh, I can’t remember - lil help here, Kel?!) checked a guy up on the boards, and broke the freaking glass. Oh, it was heavenly…

The best part: the Sharks won it 6-5, with 5 minutes to go in the third…officially breaking my track record of attending Sharks games only to watch them lose. Leaving the arena was quite an adventure, folks were whoopin’ and hollerin’; I’m completely convinced that San Jose will burn to the ground when the Sharks win the Cup.

After screaming and cheering for 4 straight hours, I had NO voice yesterday. My Mom and Brian came down to help with packing, and we busted through a LOT. I’m feeling closer to actually being ready to go, and almost plan utter uselessness at work this week...