Olympics: That's What She Said

Just a few more items about the Olympics then I promise I'll stop writing about them. During one of the many Michael Phelps finals, I wrote down a few sentance fragments that I thought we significant. Significant in the way that after every one of these a "that's what she said" is highly appropriate.

...and he shaved it and the rest is history.
...and he's now being pounded with balls.
...the Frenchman rolled him with his incredible body wash.
...but you just got to nail the wall.
...this is scary good, Al.
...so just sit back and enjoy this magical final turn.
...I think my Mom could anchor this relay and win.
...and those four inches should make you nervous.

Olympic Fever: We've Got It

I've always loved watching the Olympics. Ever since I was little. The first games I remember vividly are the 1984 Summer Games in Los Angeles. Not because of all the boycott talk, but because of the McDonald's glasses that my Mom was hell bent on collecting. We ate at every McDonald's within a 30 mile radius of our small town. In case you're wondering, we collected all four. And then some.


Ever since Salt Lake City hosted the Winter Games in 2002, I've been obsessed with them. Luckily, my husband feels the same. Every two years, when the Olympics roll around, we are total couch potatoes for seventeen days straight.

If you've never lived in a city that's hosting the games, you are missing out. Your city is transformed and suddenly very invaded by the world, but in a good way. The Salt Lake City games were the first held after September 11th, so security was heightened. It was intimidating to not only see beefed up security everywhere, but also heavily armed National Guard members standing watch. But to host the world in your back yard was unlike anything I've every experienced. Jeremy and I went to a few venues, but it was the nightlife in the city that was incredible. Almost every country had it's own "house" where the athletes and citizens of that country could enter and drink, eat and play until the wee hours of the morning. The Canada House was off the hook. For reals. It was the hottest venue in town, besides Appollo Anton Ohno. Luckily, I officed with a Canadian at the time so she would take us down there in shifts.

I'm sure you all remember the pairs figure skating controversy of the 2002 Games between the Russians and the Canadian duo, Jamie Sale and David Pelletier. (Canadians were robbed,yo) The locals could not get enough of that story. During all this, Jeremy attached his own meaning to the phrase "figure skating drama". He still uses it to this day. Simply put, it means; drama that involves a small group of people often sensationalized to appear bigger than it really is. For example, if I come home from a long day at work and tell him that something so crazy went down with a couple of people in the office, he'll ask me if it's "drama" or "figure skating drama", the latter being of the more manufactured kind than actual drama.

So far, during the Beijing Games, Jeremy hasn't coined another phase, but it's only week one. We have, however, made and a few other observations:

1. Apparently, Spain is staring a gold medal in the face. Don't stare to long. You'll go blind.
2. The Chinese aren't strong turners in the pool. Rowdy's words, not mine.
3. The word "Spectacle" is perfectly okay to use for seventeen days. And it's a good thing.
4. Rogers/Dalhausser. If you don't know who these two are, then you haven't lived. Or at the very least, you haven't been watching the Olympics. Also, Dalhausser looks a teensy bit like Billy Corgan, which I will myself to try not to notice.
5. President Bush always looks like he's not sure of his seat assignment. When they cut to footage of him taking his seat, an Olympic security person typically approaches him. Jeremy and I narrate the conversation we imagine happening between them. It always involves Bush being in the wrong seat and being asked to move. Of all the things I've listed here, this is actually the one that is most likely true.
6. Another Bush observation? He looked way creepy hanging out with Misty May-Trainer and Keri Walsh. He reminded me of that perpetual senior guy in college that never seems to graduate but shows up to all the fraternity parties. Remember him? Yeah. That's our President.
7. Imagine your an athlete and you've just finished your heat or trial or match or whatever. Maybe you didn't perform as you had hoped. You're out of breath and the NBC reporter grabs you, pulls you aside and asks you on camera if you're disappointed in your performance because you added an extra step or you teetered and lost your balance a bit. If this happened to me you can bet that instead of a canned answer about concentrating on the positives I would grab that microphone, smack the reporter directly in the center of the forehead and wrap the cord around his/her neck. I would then let them know that I was pleased with THAT performance.
8. I have forgotten how fun it is to say Pieter Van den Hoogenband. Pieter Van den Hoogenband.
9. Bob Costas kind of seems like a dick. A short one.

10. All the swimmers must wax hourly. I'm just sayin'.

Headbands, Sharing....and Wrestling?

Ummm...
There are no words. There are even fewer reasons.


Another Ummm...
You might think this rarely happens...
But then you'd be way wrong.


A Lesson for Mom Over the weekend, Henry crawled into our bed and sweetly asked me to go downstairs to his playroom and play with him. I obliged. He began playing with his trains.


I picked up some drumsticks and started playing his drums. He promptly dropped what he was doing, came over and took my sticks away. I pretended to cry. He then came over and patted my shoulder asking me what was the matter. I explained that he had taken my drumsticks. He then gave me this...

He then began playing with the good drumsticks, leaving me with one pathetic knock-off of a drum stick. Oh yeah, he also told me "See Mom, this is sharing".


Hornswaggling and Bippy Betting
Lately, something strange has been going on with Jeremy. He's been using very different vocabulary around me and the kids. For example, the other day I asked Jeremy if we would do me a favor. His response? "You bet yer bippy I can." What? What's a bippy? Should he be betting it? Should I be betting it? Do I even have one? I'm not going to waste my time looking this word up on urbandictionary.com because it's probably too tame for that site.

Also, recently, Jeremy has proudly declared that he "hornswaggled" something from Henry. He claims it's an old-timer expression meaning to barter or deal. Whatever. What sort of crowd is Jeremy hanging with these days? Well, I did a little search on hornswaggling. Apparently, I misspelled it. It is spelled Hornswoggle. Also, it is a person. Here he is...


Dylan Postl, better known by his ring names Hornswoggle, Hornswoggle McMahon or Little Bastard, is an American professional wrestler who so happens to dress as a leprichaun. He is currently signed to World Westling Entertainment appearing on its Raw and Smack Down! brands as an occasional wrestler.

Maybe Jeremy's been wrestling Henry?