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On Assorted Fortnight Activities

The thing (as if there was only one thing) I love about traveling is the sheer volume of lists it allows me to make.

Lists that say things like, "get chocolate out of brand-new skirt before leaving."

Lists that allow Heather to say things like, "if you just pull your shirt down it totally covers the stain."

Lists that result in me asking, "you know when you're supposed to check fluids before you take a roadtrip? What fluids are those?"

Lists that get totally scrapped when the "apex" of the the Winter Games happen. And by "apex" I mean, sure, we love watching the girls skate tonight but every night this week I have plopped (hi, Shepherd!) down on the couch at 8 p.m. to spend some quality time with Bob "Could I Be Any More Racist and Condescending?" Costas and the 2006 Olympians.

And by quality time I mean I have spent more hours of my life deciding whether I would be a snowboarder or a skier than which character I would be in Center Stage. And that is saying A LOT.

This morning, I briefed the house on things not to do today:

DO NOT check the news.
DO NOT check the news.
DO NOT check the news.

Why? Because the news, which is in real time, gives away the Olympic fun stuff which is in prime time.

When I was very young, Kristie Yamaguchi was the Olympic sweetheart and my parents let me stay up late to watch her win the gold. I found out the next day that their friend, Stu, had intentionally heard the results on the radio the day of the event rather than watching the competition.

I was aghast. WHY would he do that? Did he not CARE? Did he hate America?

"No," my parents tried to tell me, "he's a lawyer and he's very busy." I was still personally hurt by his decision to ruin his personal surprise.

Today, what did certain people I live with do?

They did not heed my cautions. They checked the news.

"I have to know what's going on!" they said. And then they got themselves the Olympics ruined. I was personally hurt all over again.

Now, I gotta go. Those fluids aren't going to check themselves.

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I spend a lot of time thinking about what ifs. Not serious what ifs. Fun what ifs. Like the Olympics question: would I be a skier or a snowboarder? Or the Center Stage question: would I be Jody or Eva... [Read More]

Comments

Checked it twice, she did. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I don't understand her, really. One of these days we will wade through the waves of understanding, to honestly -- for honesty's sake -- dig deep in the ocean of friendship.

Aaaaaaaahahaha ...

"Plop is a poop word!"

I miss Metzger chatroom.

am i the "certain people"?

because in some places, maybe not contempo casual, it's considered cool to know what's going on in the world.

and emily, if he knew you were sharing that poem with the Internet, i think he would be out of your waters of love and into a towel before you could say "crazy stalker."

I made a rookie mistake--I assumed the ESPN homepage would be spoiler-free, but no, it wasn't. The picture showed Sasha on the ice after one of her falls and the sentence that I had to tear my eyes away from mentioned both her two falls and Irena Slutskaya's fall. Bad ESPN.

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