In Which I Consider the Olympics

Unlike my temporary desire to be an astronaut, I always wanted to be in the Olympics. I was decent at soccer, until I started smoking and listening to the Dead, and I could ski better than my sisters but nowhere near as well as my cousins. I did however have an ace in the hole: I was born in the Philippines. I figured I could cash in on my (maybe?) dual citizenship and be the first downhill skier from the Island. Kind of like Eddie the Eagle, but I'd be Picket the Pretend Filipino.

Quite obviously, that was yet another obsession that thankfully passed. I do still tune into the Opening Ceremonies, if only to dream for a minute (or ten hours since that's how long the thing seems to last). I was late to watch it tonight: things get busy when four women are trying to feed six children with a charcoal grill. Especially if that meal comes post amusement park (which I mentioned to CarolynOnline is, in fact, neither).

After the natural hysterics and tantrums and tears as one woman (being me) tried to put five children to bed (go ahead: figure the fucked up math on that one) way too late, I finally sat down to marvel at the whole skeptical spectacle of the thing. It comes at a good time really: at last, something else to talk about besides the Drunk People or well, me.

There's an election happening and a war and yet another Democrat lyingcheater (John Edwards) and the weather is all kinds of wack after all, so it's pathetic that I haven't brought any of it up. And the countdown to school (though still a month away) has begun which means the harsh reality of "meetings" has begun too and god knows, I like to get my bitch on about that. I must be in some kind of apathy zone and I hope it has more to do with the beer sun season than anything else. After all, there must be more to write this genius blog about than the blah blah yada yada. I mean, I could have been an astronaut!

But oh! the Olympics! Chinese pollution! The protests! Tibet! The detention of the American journalists! Dara Torres and her sick 40 year old abs! The earthquake! The world's people gathered in peace!

That's some serious blog for thought (or thought for blog?).

But you know what I was thinking as this Parade of Nations paraded through my mother's tv screen?

The premier athletes of the world are some serious good looking people, as in hot, yo, as in yum and helllooo and how you doin' and then I realized, this isn't what I had in mind when I was thinking "inspiration."

Blah blah yada yada.