motor oil and competence

Fandom. The show premiered three months ago and yet when I go to Ravelry I still cannot find a pattern for a Murderbot balaclava. Where are our priorities?

A beautiful story of karmic justice: a couple of years ago, I decided I wanted to watch The Best Classic Hockey Movies, in part as a gauge for if I actually cared about hockey or had just been blindsided by And Never Been Kissed. (Spoiler: both). As a media consumption goal this didn't last long, because I have a hard time sitting down to watch television when I could instead be stress-rearranging my kitchen cupboards, but I was invested enough to make it through "Miracle," "Mystery, Alaska," "Slap Shot," "Goon," and that one where Rob Lowe's flat ass in a jockstrap betrays him, like, buddy, you are not now and have never been a hockey player with those glutes, come on. The point is, I watched enough hockey movies that the Hubster caught wind of it and wanted in; we watched the Rob Lowe one together and I saw "Slap Shot" a second time with him. Every time he'd ask, "What's this one about?" and I'd squint at him, like, it's a sports movie? They're pretty much all about the underdog team who wins the big game? But it was nice to have a shared pursuit.

Then one evening he wandered out into the living room, and asked if I wanted to watch a movie later.

Me: I don't know, probably?
The Hubster: I found this one I think you'd like, about werewolves who play hockey--
Me: WHAT YES OHMYGOD OHMYGOD OH MY--
Me: ...
Me: You're fucking with me.
The Hubster, doubled over laughing: I'm absolutely fucking with you.
Me: *betrayed howling*

I immediately texted my knitting friends, who were gratifyingly outraged on my behalf ("He teased a WEREWOLF HOCKEY movie to YOU!? That's grounds for divorce,") and spent some more time yelling about treachery, and then I imagine we picked some way less awesome movie that actually existed and watched that instead, whatever.

Time passed, the earth wheeled around the sun, seasons changed. I read and re-read Rachel Reid's series of m/m hockey romance novels, Game Changers, and felt the type of fannish about them where I purchased a mock Ottawa Centaurs tee shirt from the author's website. (The Rozanov one, obviously). The shirt is a Bulk Purchase Warm Gray color that makes me look like I've been unearthed from a bog, so it is sleep attire only. The Hubster loves it, because speculating about how centaurs fasten their kneepads while I'm just trying to brush my teeth already is prime entertainment!

Then recently we learned that Heated Rivalry, the Game Changers novel that I described way back when as "okay fine, maybe this one did change my life a little," is being made into a tv show. "And we're all like, how exactly, because the book's like eighty percent sex scenes--" I explained to the Hubster, gesturing to my Centaurs shirt and brandishing the toothpaste.

The Hubster: So is it animated?
Me: No, it's live action. But you're not watching it with me anyway.
The Hubster: Wait, why can't I watch it?
Me: I just mean I really liked the book, so I gotta watch it for the first time by myself so I can concentrate.
The Hubster, distressed: But I want to see the centaurs!
Me: ...
Me: Do you understand that the Centaur...is the mascot?
The Hubster: WHAT?!
Me: Like how the Seattle Kraken are not actually kraken.
The Hubster: *distressed flailing*
Me: The books are about regular hockey players. The team is the Centaurs.
The Hubster, crushed: There's no centaurs who play hockey?!
Me, wild-eyed: Do you REMEMBER the werewolf hockey movie? DO you?!? THIS IS HOW I FELT.

I have never exalted in schadenfreude quite like I did in that moment. If I could have raised my hands over my head and bellowed in triumph while bolts of schaden-lightning arced between my vengeful fists and the storm clouds above, I would have. It was beautiful. Also buddy I'm curious where you thought I was going with "eighty percent sex scenes" in your centaurs-on-ice scenario, but mostly this is about justice.

What else? Texas is a political shit show; I have attended a couple anti-redistricting rallies and left a lot of incensed public commentary on various proposed bills. I made this Chicken Crust Pizza (as pepperoni and basil, I don't like hot honey) and it was both easy and good, although I will say it was a textural nightmare to prep. I took a photo of the socially dominant cat performing her executive assistant duties, i.e. :





In any case, JUSTICE. Hope you are well.