Monday, July 30, 2012

Olympic Thoughts

In the event that anyone cares what has been running through my head this Olympics, I have a treat for you:

  • Every time I see a pool, I smell chlorine.
  • How did I ever swim competitively??? It just so isn't me!
  • Russian [female] gymnasts have much more attractive bodies than American gymnasts. They are prettier to watch, too.
  • I wonder if they serve popcorn at the Olympics?
  • I am pretty sure they use Morgan Freeman to narrate commercials because they all. make. me. cry!
  • Women's basketball fashion could really learn something from women's volleyball fashion.
  • My husband is going to have to start swimming competitively... I always forget how attractive that "look" is. A speedo and a uniform? Um... yes.
  • I'm going to be watching a lot of NBC this fall/winter/spring.
  • I feel really old.
  • I really wish I had learned how to fence. And arch (arch? Is that what you call competing in archery? Clearly I need to learn the terminology because I take up this sport). And I wish I had gotten into rowing... They had a club at Georgia Tech, and did I get involved? No. I suck.
  • Nathan Adrian is not only from this part of Washington, but his mom threatened him with the same things mine did if I quit swimming. It must be a common mom thing.
  • What is with the weird see-through piece on the women's bathing suits in swimming?
  • My husband should have been British and joined their Army... Because then, after 20 years, he could apply to be a Beefeater! (mmm... Beefeater).
  • I'm pudgy. Well, I knew that already, but damn the Olympics for reminding me of this fact (in related news, I have been prescribed an increase in thyroid meds... Go thyroid meds, go!).
  • I always cheer for the home team if "our guys" aren't competing (or if they are, I want the home team to get second, hehe).
  • I'm retiring to the UK. Or at least getting a vacation home there. End of story.

1 comment:

  1. Well, you were somewhat competitive. I wonder where your daughter got her shoe fetish, eh, Emelda?