Some confessions, Olympics-style:
- I am full-on into Curling now. I find myself thinking about strategy as I watch and sometimes have to remind myself to breathe because I tend to forget to exhale when I’m intensely nervous.
- My mom was asking why professional athletes are allowed to participate in the Olympics, so I Googled the IOC’s rulings and spent A LOT of time reading up on the policies. I am still not 100% clear on when the rules changed and why it’s only for certain events.
- You know what the winter games mean? A shitload of hockey. I am in heaven. I miss going to Sharks games and drinking a beer and watching guys slam each other into the glass. I am a woman of refined tastes. It’s also getting me in the mood to watch Miracle again. Have you seen it? Kurt Russell+late 70’s haircut+Underdog Hockey Story=Cinematic Gold. However, I have to say all of the intense media coverage of the 1980 hockey victory is starting to feel like a bit much. I am in NO WAY trying to undermine the event, but, as the great Wayne Campbell would say, “Live in the now!”
- Aside from the complaints that the Russian ice dancing team costumes were offensive, their routine was lame as hell. And what the fuck was up with that ridiculous little nose-nuzzle they did at the end. Barf. Fun fact: my dad hates ice dancing as it is NOT, in his opinion, a “sport.” I tend to concur, but I can’t look away.
- Alright, so this one is not an Olympic Confession, but it’s by far the most horrifying: I am watching the Full House episode right after Uncle Jesse and Becky get married and the whole family is sad that he’s not living with them anymore and there’s this flashback and I am all choked up but also kind of hating myself.
If anyone has any answers about #2, hit me up. I’m for reals curious.