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And they're off ... in three hours!

Luckily, I've been extremely focused on writing in the past few weeks, so I haven't spent the time sitting around staring at my wall coming up with pithy comments to come online and share.

I should let you know, though, that I have received my money back from Canada Post, as well as a personal call from the guy in charge of the postal outlet who accepted the wine I sent, and a call from the manager of the customer service lady who was severely lacking in service to the customer. I'm actually very pleased with the response to my complaint (the guy from the postal outlet said "Your letter is making the rounds, up and down the line, and has made quite the stir"). So, I must reiterate: if you have a complaint, go online. Don't bother talking to anyone in person, don't bother calling the phone number. Send your complaint through the online page and you may actually come away not cursing Canada Post.

Finally, I am so excited for the Olympics. I'm not sure why. Maybe because they are back in Canada (yay!). I remember standing at the Saddledome for most of one afternoon in 1988 with the guy I was dating, trying to get a ticket for the Canada-Soviet game that night. Oh, we had the opportunity to get many tickets, if we didn't mind cutting off a limb or two as payment.

Finally, right at the 6:30 puck drop, a man came up to us and asked if we're wanting tickets to the game. (My boyfriend had a huge Canada flag with him, so the question was a bit redundant) When we said yes, he motioned for us to follow him up the steps to the Saddledome. I, in all my bossy glory, dug my heels in and told my boyfriend that I was not going anywhere if this man does not tell us how much he wants for the tickets. My boyfriend bounced back and forth between me and this man, coming back to tell me that the guy insists he wants nothing. Well, that I had to hear for myself. So we went up to the entrance, where the man handed us the two tickets and waved off any money. He explained that he had received them from his company, and that at the last minute the couple who was supposed to join him and his wife couldn't make it. He said he didn't feel right letting the seats remain vacant when so many people wanted in, but he couldn't in good conscience take any money for them either. (and he didn't say this, but I'm pretty sure he didn't want to give them to us until we were at the entrance because he didn't want us turning around to scalp them ourselves)

"Just buy Nabisco-Christie products." was all he requested. (I may or may not have exclaimed at the time "Hey! You make good cookies!")

I always plug the company name when telling this story. Those tickets were worth 22 years (and counting) of promotion. The seats were wonderful! Right behind the net, maybe 10 rows up! Beautiful! Magnificent! Perfect place from which to watch the Soviets trounce Canada 6-0...

By the middle of the second period the Saddledome was cheering good passes. Nice stick handling. Canada's goalie even trying to block a shot that went in. If we couldn't cheer a home team goal, we were going to cheer the home team, by god! About thirty seconds after the buzzer sounded, after we all had absorbed the fact that it was over and there had been nothing to stand up for, the Saddledome stood up anyway and cheered ourself sore. (Hopefully Canada understood we were cheering for them, and didn't think that Soviets had overrun the Saddledome) What a disappointment to not have even one goal to cheer. But what a rush to have been there at all!

So I'm excited about the next few weeks. Maybe this year, if it looks like Canada's going to take the gold in hockey, I'll pop over to a sports bar and watch it with a whole crap load of people. Lord knows I felt stupid jumping up and down and screaming alone in my apartment in 2002.

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