Another day

Well I have just watched four hours of the Olympics.

The Fab Five won the gold medal. Michael Phelps won his nineteenth medal to become the most decorated Olympian of all time. I sat on the couch and ate cookies.

Yet my adrenaline levels are off the charts. I have cheered. I have cried. I have lamented the day I quit gymnastics at age eight because I might have been an Olympian if I had just mastered walking across the gym floor without tripping.

I’m not sure how I’m ever going to settle down and go to sleep. So instead I’m watching Sweet Home Alabama for the 842nd time on the Oxygen channel.

It’s hard to pick a highlight of the night so I think I’m just going to give a quick rundown.

(Yes. Apparently this has become a blog solely devoted to Olympic coverage this week.)

(But only for those of you who aren’t looking for hard-hitting journalistic insights.)

1. The Russian female gymnasts love them some glitter. I’m not sure how you say “There is no such thing as too much glitter” in Russian, but I bet their coaches do.

2. I find it interesting that it’s 2012 and we haven’t found a better way to hold back hair than those plastic, bendy Goody barrettes that I wore in a series of unfortunate school photos from 1976-1982.

Do better, hair accessory industry.

3. Words can’t express how thrilled I was for Jordyn Weiber. She proved to have the heart of a champion when she bounced back from her disappointment on Sunday and helped lead her team to gold.

Her smile after she finished that first tumbling pass on the floor exercise was priceless.

4. I needed more of Aly Raisman’s parents.

5. Thank goodness Michael Phelps won two more medals and broke the record. I was afraid Andrea the poolside commentator was going to take him out back and shoot him if he failed.

She clearly graduated from the Journalism School of No Mercy and Bad Questions.

6. Caroline decided halfway through the balance beam routines that she needed to practice her gymnastics. Even though she quit gymnastics two years ago.

And then she spent the next hour twirling and jumping around our living room while intermittently stopping to stretch. I think Bela Karolyi would be impressed.

7. Without question the overstatement of the night goes to the gymnastics commentator who declared a mistake by one of the Russian gymnasts during the floor exercise to be “ABSOLUTELY CATASTROPHIC”.

I’d like to buy him a dictionary. And some perspective.

Your house falling in around you equals CATASTROPHIC. Failing to land a cartwheel? Disappointing, yes. ABSOLUTELY CATASTROPHIC? I think not.

8. Loved seeing the mens’ relay team win the gold. Not only did it help Phelps achieve his goal, but I think it gave Lochte a little bit of confidence back.

9. I did a back dive off the diving board at the pool today.

No. That technically has nothing to do with the Olympics.

But it was the closest I came to any sort of athletic endeavor and I wanted you to know. It helped offset the guilt I felt about eating the chocolate chip cookies. I’m almost forty-one and I can still do a back dive.

Which reminds me that I need to take three or six Advil before bed.

10. Is it just me or would anyone else really like a pair of those green tennis shoes that the Fab Five had on during the medal ceremony?

And did you watch their interview with Bob Costas at the end where they all said the earliest Olympics they remembered was 2004?

Wow.

I’m old.

Well, apparently the Olympic Committee had nothing better to do than to block the video of Aly’s parents that I put up yesterday. And between that and somebody getting booted off Twitter for bashing NBC’s coverage, I feel like I better mind my Olympic manners or I’ll find myself being questioned by some angry French guy in a small, dimly lit room.

Why a French guy?

I don’t know. It just seems like the way it would all happen.

But I do have to share the picture my friend Carol sent me yesterday.

Yes, that’s exactly the point I was trying to make.

Normally this is where I’d write a few paragraphs about what we did this weekend. However, I can sum it up in a sentence.

We watched the Olympics.

Thank you and good night.

Just kidding. When have I ever been that succinct?

But since I’m guessing none of you really care to hear about how I finally resorted to taking a Zyrtec on Thursday night and thus spent Friday in a near comatose state, I thought it might be fun (for me at least) to recap my favorite Olympic moments so far.

(On a kind of related note (but not really) it’s ironic to me that I spent years selling Zyrtec to doctors and claiming that it doesn’t cause sedation when it flat knocks me out for days. But I’m one of those people who will always deal with possible side effects no matter how small the actual percentage. I believe this is largely due to the fact that I always read the complete list of side effects and then my brain calls them into being.)

Anyway, here are my top ten Olympic moments so far:

1. Queen Elizabeth parachuting out of the helicopter with James Bond.

2. Meredith Viera and Matt Lauer continually pronouncing that the Queen was having a great time and had a wicked sense of humor while she remained stone-faced throughout the entire proceedings.

3. The part of the opening ceremonies where they re-enacted the Industrial Revolution.

(Not really because SNOOZE.)

4. Paul McCartney looking for all the world like the Dowager Countess of Grantham as he sang “Hey Jude”.

5. Ryan Lochte winning the 400 IM. It was a great moment and I wish NBC would quit focusing on what Phelps doesn’t do and what others have achieved.

Get a new story, NBC.

6. Watching Ryan Secrest’s hair get progressively higher with each interview. Maybe London weather is conducive to good hair?

It would certainly explain my girl Kate Middleton.

7. Gabby Douglas. I could put her in my pocket.

Seriously. I think she’d fit in my pocket.

But she is darling. And love that she said she meditates on scripture before she competes.

8. Any time they interview Bela Karolyi. I’m not kidding.

I don’t understand half of what he says and he frightens me, but he makes me want to be a better gymnast.

Which is impressive considering I can’t even do a cartwheel and my abs are possibly made of Pinot Grigio.

9. Staying up late with Caroline and listening to all her reactions on everything. Her little heart was broken for Jordan Wieber last night. And NBC didn’t help matters by interviewing Aly while Jordan cried in the background. Have some decency, people.

Caroline asked me to compose an angry tweet to express that the Olympics were dead to her at that moment. Mama’s little baby has embraced the power of social media.

They grow up so fast.

10. Lastly, I realize there were many athletes who accomplished amazing things, but this moment was really the highlight for me.

And made me glad that no one has ever videotaped my reactions during one of Caroline’s soccer games because crazy recognizes crazy.

What about y’all? Any favorite moments?

So my cold is still hanging on. It’s somewhere in that dreaded middle ground between feeling like bad allergies and a full blown opportunity to go to the doctor and get some prescription cough medicine. And I could bore you with all the details and complete list of all my symptoms but I know no one wants to hear it. At least that’s what P tells me.

And I’ve spent the last few days on the couch although I did venture to the store yesterday because we were out of dog food and trash bags. Clearly there is no way to survive without those items, especially if you’re the dog.

Anyway, I just don’t have one exciting thing to report. However, I do have a list of things I’d like to share.

1. This post about one of the victims of the Aurora shooting is an amazing story of God’s grace. It’s worth the read.

2. I also loved this post by Sally Lloyd-Jones about kids and the Bible. If your kids don’t own the Jesus Storybook Bible then you should fix that immediately. It’s so beautifully written.

3. Am I the only one who cannot wait until the Summer Olympics start on Friday? I’m so excited.

4. There is never a day when I don’t think Ann Voskamp’s blog is beautiful, but I especially loved her post yesterday When All Hope Feels Like A Drought. This line in particular has stuck with me, “We pray to God to be prepared by God for a purpose of God.”

5. This feels like a good day for y’all to leave any prayer requests you might have in the comments. Feel free to leave them anonymously if that’s easier.

See y’all tomorrow.

Ever since I heard that Sherman Helmsley died yesterday I’ve wanted to make the obvious “Well, he moved on up” joke on Twitter and refrained because I felt like it might be immature and insensitive. But apparently I am both because I just wrote it. Or maybe it’s just that I have a deep, lasting love for sitcoms of the 70s. Given the fact I can still remember my favorite episodes of The Jeffersons I’m choosing to go with this theory.

(Remember the one when Tom and Helen shared with George and Weeze what they learned in marriage counseling and they all ended up hitting each other with those inflatable bat things?)

(More importantly, can you tell me why a second grader thought that was so funny?)

So Caroline and P left to go fishing on Sunday afternoon. Which left me with a lot of free time. And even though I had the beginnings of a cold, I couldn’t squander this time so I planned a little girls’ night at the house.

The only problem was that I was running low in the snack department for anyone who doesn’t consider a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios to be an appetizer. And since I wasn’t going to make a huge grocery store trip, I decided to run up to Central Market instead of our normal HEB. For those of you who may not know all the machinations of various Texas grocery stores, HEB is just a regular store with your garden variety of crackers and cereals while Central Market is their upscale cousin where you can buy assorted olives and honey made by bees that live in a hive in the produce department.

That’s not really true about the bees. But I bet it’s only because they haven’t thought of it yet.

I generally don’t allow myself too many trips to Central Market because I tend to get carried away. All of a sudden I think I need to buy Dietzenganger’s Frankfurters instead of Oscar Meyer Weiners or Santa Barbara Pistachios when I didn’t even realize that Santa Barbara was known for its pistachio. And then I walk out of the store significantly poorer than I was when I walked in with only a bag full of organic peaches and freshly made ricotta cheese to comfort me.

This trip was no exception. I stumbled right into cheese-tasting day. And I was hungry which didn’t help matters. The next thing I knew I had three blocks of cheese with names I can’t even pronounce in my cart along with a bag of prosciutto that was allegedly flown in from Italy that very morning and contained no MSG even though I didn’t realize there was an MSG issue with prosciutto. I also got suckered in by the crackers that they served it on. It was the most delicious combination I’d ever tasted.

Then I journeyed over to the bakery section which always proves to be my kryptonite because FRESH BAKED COOKIES! FRENCH BREAD! CHOCOLATE CROISSANTS! but was mercifully distracted when a woman turned from where she was trying to decide between the Pain Meunier or a Couronne Bordelaise and yelled at her children, “WOLFGANG! LILLITH! ELI!”

I thought maybe I heard wrong. But I guess Wolfgang wasn’t paying attention because she yelled again, “WOLFGANG! LILLITH! ELI!” and the kids went scurrying over to her decked out head to toe in their organic cotton ensembles. And that’s when I came back to reality and remembered I’m not really cool enough to buy Couronne Bordelaise at Central Market. Largely because I have no idea what that even is. And also because I have a child named Caroline and we like Kraft cheese and think the Pepperidge Farm Milanos are a fancy cookie.

But I still wanted my cheeses. So I took them up to the cashier and walked out of there with $40 worth of cheese I didn’t even know I wanted along with some crackers that would make a Triscuit cry.

(By the way, if P is reading this I just want him to know that I didn’t really spend $40 on cheese. That would be absurd. It was only $15.)

So Sunday night was fun. I’m sure it was at least partly due to the cheese plate even though I realized part of what made the cheese and prosciutto so tasty was the nice woman in Central Market who sliced it all up and served it to me. And she was nowhere to be found in my kitchen.

There was also a low point when I referred to the Siri feature on my phone as Suri. Which is a sure sign I’ve devoted way too much time and attention to Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes. And I didn’t even watch The Bachelorette until Monday morning. It brought me much joy that Emily chose Jef because I think they could actually make it for the long term whereas I felt like she and Arie would burn out fast. European race car drivers are good husbands in theory but maybe not in reality. Actually, I’m not sure that they’re even good husband material in theory along with megastars who made gazillions starring as cocky fighter pilots named Maverick.

In addition to the fact she chose Jef, I was also encouraged to see that Emily made an attempt to bring back the denim shirt tied at the waist. This is a trend I have missed terribly since it’s demise in the mid-90s and between that and the fact that ABC chose to play Glory of Love by Peter Cetera as the EMILY AND JEF ARE ENGAGED montage made me feel like the future is bright since at least some of us haven’t forgotten what made this country great.

It’s denim shirts and the theme song from Karate Kid II.

That’s what made this country great.

It certainly wasn’t cheese with names you can’t pronounce with a side of bread that insists on being called “pain”.

On Sunday P and Caroline left to drive to the coast for a little fishing trip. I stayed home because I’m generally not a fan of getting on a boat while it’s still dark in search of fish.

But I’d say based on this picture that Caroline feels completely different.

I think she’s a fan.

And on an entirely different note, I wrote a post about my thoughts on the new Dallas over at Ree’s if you want to read it.

But no pressure.