I used some teeny-tiny fine-point pen for this. I'm enjoying switching between a brush pen and this type of precise pen.
I like this whole "drawing" thing. I hope I can keep it up.
Now on to the whining.
I apparently hate losing. I really thought I got over the "winning is Very Important to Me" mentality I've sported last season, but I haven't.
Fight Crew continues to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory by technically losing in the last two jams of the game against the Swarm 118-115. I say "technically", but the losing started before the last two jams. For instance, I got ejected at the end of the third quarter.
This shit is getting old.
I felt very frustrated in this game. I was told I played well, but if that were really true, would I have racked up the penalties that got me kicked out? I don't know...at least I wasn't the only one on my team kicked out. Hell, I wasn't even the first on my team to get kicked out. So not only do I not win at winning, I do not win at losing.
THAT IS MESSED UP.
But it's not just the pure penalties that got me. It's something else, and I just give up on trying to win this time. I'm cranky, stressed, and tired from trying to win, and where has it gotten me? Nowhere. So fuckit. I'm on vacation, betches.
One of the very few things I was excited about from Saturday was meeting drill sergeant and Celebrity Fit Club torturer, Harvey E. Walden IV. One of the Enforcers, Beth Penalty, works with him and had finally convinced him to show up to a game. She kept teasing me about me getting to meet him, and I don't know if she knows how truly thrilled I was to meet such a badass. Here's a fun photo of us giving our Don't Fuck With Us faces:
I secretly wished he would yell at me, but apparently he keeps the yelling restricted to assholes like Screetch, not big sweaty roller derby chicks who get kicked out of games.
Someday, Harvey E. Walden IV, someday...