Bridget Adams

I. In the bathroom, a blonde woman with a lovely tightened and well-pickled face watches your reflection in the mirror. Out of her beautiful pink mouth, a question: "Is it just me or is today an emotional day?" It's just Christmastime, you say. She raises an eyebrow. You elaborate: Christmas just makes people emotional. "No," she says, raking at her hair with French-tipped nails. "I don't think so." II. Your newfound ability to remember detail is magnificent, a triumph.

The Mud Hens were out of town over the weekend and so I rightly returned my attention to my first love: hockey. The Walleye are in the Conference Finals (as are my beloved Anaheim Ducks) and the wife and I jumped in after dealhunting at the Maker’s Mart. We scored seats in Row 2, directly adjacent to the opposing team’s goal. Great seats because I’m for the offensive. Some people like to watch their goalie work— not me, I want to see points happen.