These Are My Confessions
I have a few confessions to make.
1. I went on Facebook.
I’m sorry!!!!!!! I had to do it. I felt out of touch with the world. I wanted to share engagement pictures and fundraising successes and “like” a few random statuses just for the hell of it. But I promise it’s out of my system now and it won’t happen again until after Easter.
(Please don’t hold me to that.)
2. The Devils suck and it’s all my fault.
Hear me out. The team started off this season so strong. We were #1 in the Atlantic Division AND in the Eastern Conference for a while there. And then, something happened.
Remember when we took a secret road trip a few weeks back?
Probably not. Well, my friends and I decided to rent an SUV and drive to my dad’s restaurant to surprise him for dinner. We arrived in town earlier than anticipated, so we decided to make a pit stop at Short Hills Mall to kill some time.*
*And when I say “kill some time” I really mean “try to start a riot by telling random passers-by that Jessica Simpson was just seen shopping in the Louis Vuitton store.”
At one point, I noticed Frank and Joey acting shady — huddled together and creepily peering behind their shoulders. When I asked them what was going on, Joey whispered:
“PATRIK ELIAS IS BEHIND US.”
It was true. Elias. In the flesh. Standing right behind us.
“Do we say hi?!”
“NO! He’s with his daughter!”
“But we have to say hi!”
“NO. We can’t. He has a big game tomorrow.”
“We’re going to the game, though! Let’s tell him we’re going to the game. Let’s wish him good luck.”
“Yes. Wait. Maybe. No.”
This back-and-forth between the three of us must have gone on for at least twenty minutes. We followed Patty around the mall like idiots — trying to play it cool but clearly failing miserably. In the end, we decided to leave him alone. We thought it was the noble thing to do.
“If they lose tomorrow, it’s all because we didn’t wish him good luck.”
The next day, they lost.
And, to be perfectly honest, they haven’t really won much since then.
So, there you have it. The Devils suck and it’s all my fault.
3. I officially give up on Hoboken St. Patrick’s Day.
It never ends well. I’ll leave it at that.
4. The Swedish House Mafia concert made me feel old.
There were naked teenagers running amuck in Madison Square Garden on Friday night. I had to refrain from screaming out “PUT SOME DAMN CLOTHES ON” several times. It was awkward.
Even though we all felt a little bit like chaperones, it was still one of the best nights ever.
What do you have to confess today? Spill.