post hockey, pre sobriety

So it had been a couple weeks since Bob Gainey summed up the season in a nutshell: that the Canadiens are almost there and are needing a large center in the near future. Hearing the unfamiliar name of a Swedish player who is the best NOT playing in the NHL either means 2 things: What the f**k or he's up to something. Carey Price is off on a Mexican vacation then returning home, a little bit wiser and knowing better as when training camp approaches he would know that he'll be the number one goaltender. The job is his, he needs to boost the confidence to reach the next level.
I seem to be using the analogy for confidence as goaltenders can go hot and cold. They are weird yet can hold the team when everything else breaks down. I see that outside the net, that yes, confidence does come and go in the thing we do best. In my case, my photography.
In the last few months I've been hot and cold: I became a photo editor at a University paper, I lost a theatre gig I normally get. I got two more gigs, got published. I work full time in the back of a coffee shop making sandwiches and salads, I have no time to take pictures. I have to update my web site by 5 years, I got Flickr. Ups and downs, during the downs I would drink.
Not a good thing.
In one sense I was glad that the team was ousted in the second round. There was a constant party in my liver and I think it was due for a siesta. Seriously, the long weekend approaches as becomes the beginning of the season of drinking on terrasses, picnics and the woods. I live in Montreal, it's what we're known for when the sun returns. The clothes come off, the drinks are open, look out. Thus explains why between the months of March through May there happens to be a slew of birthdays (therefore, more drinking).
I'm pushing for more use of contraceptives during the summer months. I can't celebrate another 20 birthdays, no more.
Yes, it's been nice to be outside again, on my bike instead of on a bar stool at the Ye Olde on the Main, my office during playoffs. I pop in now and then to see how bad Sidney Crosby's moustache has gotten. He looks like 1983 even if he didn't exist until 1987. I had to throw in that joke in every entry, take a damn look at it. That kid has a lot of confidence in guiding a bunch of kids into manhood we call playoffs. Even confident enough to know that he can't even grow a real beard. Then again, Carey Price is the same age and yet, full on beard.
Then again, he's a weird goalie.
Confidence can bring the weird out of people. Maybe that's why some drink to that, to mask away actual shyness, needing some clutch to get the real out of them. Or to mask away something that is them that they're afraid of. Been toying with that idea these days as I ask myself if I think I can try to crack the photography field to the next level, why am I still hiding in the back of a coffee shop making sandwiches?
Weird.