Sunday, Probably...

I'll be posting about my very first, live, Stanley Cup final.

Go Pens Go!

I Need to Read More of the Paper

Instead of hitting only the Editorial and Penguins/NHL sections and calling myself informed.

If I had read more of the paper on May 11, I would not have missed that CityReachers Pittsburgh is raising money to place copies of the New Testament in the Sunday Post-Gazette on September 7.

Pittsburgh themed copies of the New Testament, with a “front cover showing the Golden Triangle, a back cover photograph of Steelers kneeling in prayer and will include testimonies of well-known Pittsburghers”.

Because nothing says “Come to Jesus” quite like a photograph of the Pittsburgh Steelers.*

Fortunately, there are several readers who do peruse more of the paper and wrote letters to the editor, the first protesting the idea and threatening to cancel their subscription, the second praising the potential positive effect of essentially forcing the New International Version translation of the New Testament into the homes 250,000 subscribers.

I'm interested in seeing how this unfolds.

*I can't believe there does not exist a Pittsburgh Steelers last supper image somewhere on the Internet. In a city that turned Gary Roberts into a cult hero, not one photo shopped marvel of Big Ben as Jesus? Which begs the question – who do Steelers fans hold more sacred: Big Ben or Jesus?

Notes From the Finals - Game 1

There is a restaurant at the Waterfront that will never receive my patronage again. Not because their meals are a pale imitation of the southern style barbecue I enjoyed during my brief time in South Carolina. I ended up with a case of food poisoning and am spending the first game of the Stanley Cup finals on my couch, alone, while J enjoys the game with good friends, wings and beer.

If the first period is any indication, the Detroit Red Wings are a very worthy adversary and it would be an honor if the Penguins lost the Finals to such a team*. The Red Wings played a flawless first period and were robbed of a goal due to a terrible goaltender interference call by the referees*.

As fantastic as the Red Wings are, I am a fan of one of the coolest organizations in the NHL. The executives opened Mellon Arena, lowered the JumboTron and charged fans $5.00 a person to watch the game on a very big screen. All proceeds from the entry fee are going to the Mario Lemieux Foundation. Thirteen thousand fans have taken the organization up on the offer. Versus was considerate enough to show a couple of shots of the fans in the arena, madly waving white rally towels.

*Real fans acknowledge when the other team is better and also acknowledge terrible calls that fall in their team's favor. Realistically, I have genuine doubts that the Penguins can pull off four wins against the Red Wings and will not be too pained to see Detroit take the Stanley Cup.

Comfort

Can be found, at the end of a day in which I wonder why I bother interacting with humanity-at-large, by reading that even David Byrne has stupid accidents that break bones.

Humanity-at-large was in fine form in the Pittsburgh area today. Humanity as defined by the middle aged businessman who insisted on taking up all of his seat and half of mine on the bus this morning, forcing me to pretzel my upper body away from his elbows for the duration of the ride. I am amazed anew at how much space an average sized person can take up. And at the sense of entitlement that this man had, as he seemed to expand even further as we rode into town. I felt very little regret when I accidentally stepped on his foot on the way out the door.

Humanity is also defined as the middle aged woman I encountered this afternoon. She became slightly miffed when I could not tell her if her bus had passed by and repeatedly ignored my attempts to get away from the smoke of her cigarette by repeatedly moving closer to me.

And now the gods have gotten even with me for stepping on that man's foot by forcing me to trip over a loose, defunct telephone line wire running across the floor of the spare room door. Twice.

Quick Hits

• I'm tired. Really tired. And a little bit sick. A little too much celebrating this weekend.
• In case you don't have NBC or Versus... the Penguins are going to the Cup! I'm going to a Stanley Cup final game!
• We attended a wedding in Williamsburg, VA this past weekend. Bride and groom were married at the Jamestown Church and the reception was held at the Shield's Tavern in Historic Williamsburg.
• It appears that the Penguins will be playing the Red Wings. Detroit is up 4 - 0 early in the second period.
• New bedroom furniture (and mattress) arriving sometime tomorrow.

Burned Out?

I took a sick day today, a necessary measure to preserve my mental health as my stress and anxiety levels have been going up in increasing increments over the past several weeks. I've made multiple mistakes this week that indicate that unless I take a day off very soon, I am going to be suffering significant burn out.

When I woke up and decided to stay home, I used the awesome powers of the Internet to verify that I had no work waiting for me. That pleasant, confident feeling that I could take a day to get my head in order guilt free lasted until approximately nine A.M., when I called my manager to let him know I would be out.

Now it is nearly two hours later and I'm still near tears and my frustration and anxiety have increased even more. Suffice to say, it was not the most pleasant conversation. I found myself being called accountable for issues I thought I had resolved and communicated, including one item that wasn't my responsibility to begin with, but that I set up and taught the item's owner (as I was running out of time and had to leave by 4:00 PM yesterday) how to do, so he could do his job. And communicated to the project manager what I had done. And he (the task owner) did not do it. And I am to blame. Even though my manager told me “don't worry about it, I'll take care of it”.

I cried a little, because as much as I like to think I am some tough feminist woman, I am such a girl. I pulled up my resume and reactivated one of my job search accounts. I edited and refined and threw it out into the wild to see if I could trap an unsuspecting employer into granting me an interview.

But the tape in my head, the one that likes to turn on in such times, tells me that I am wasting my time. That no one is interested in hiring an almost 35 year old woman with such a spotty and inconsistent resume. That for all my varied skills and education, I am not valuable enough of an employee for anyone. Because I prize having some type of a life above ambition, I have basically killed any opportunity to move forward into something interesting.

So, yes, I am burned out. And I'm not sure what to do about it. Advice (seriously) appreciated.