SUCKER . . .

I am a bigger sucker than I thought.

First, some background. My body just ain't what it used to be. Time was, I'd catch a cold, pop some Comtrex, sweat it out through one night, then bounce right back the next day. Over the years, that "one night" has turned to two, then three ... and now, I need a whole week to kick a cold. And of course, it goes in waves of feeling fine one day and being completely felled by exhaustion the next. Today was an exhaustion day. I sat down on the couch after breakfast, just to rest, you see. And next thing I know, it was five hours later and I found myself groggily rolling over on my side to open up a whole day's worth of important emails. Of course, replying to said important emails when you are half awake and sweating feverishly is probably not the wisest of things to do ... but bygones.

So after I shook myself fully into consciousness, I slapped on the television to do my daily Olympics sloot check. An hour later, I thought to myself, "my mind and heart just are not what they used to be," for lo, I had been utterly sucked in by the men's Nordic combined individual race. Yes, my friends, CROSS-COUNTRY SKIING. A whole bunch of men, none of whom I can tell apart from the other, just sort of ... skiing. And there I was, sitting up straighter and straighter, my heart beating faster and faster, my bleary eyes opening wider and wider, wondering with bated breath, "is the German going to win or will the Norwegian overtake him in the last few seconds?!?!?!?!" Well, the German won, and my heart rate returned to normal. Never thought I'd see the day that cross-country skiing got my blood moving ...

***

SIDE-NOTE . . .

Thank you, area sanitation workers. I still don't believe that it's going to snow that much. In fact, I won't believe it until I step out of my home tomorrow and right into a humongous snow bank. But even that ... I don't believe it's going to exist for me to even step into. And I'm not going to look out the window during the night, because I firmly and delusionally believe that if I can't see it, it's not really there. But still. You men and women are out there already, spreading preventative rock salt and sand, and y'all are going to be up all night in this crazy cold and awful weather. You do this because it's your job and because you need the overtime pay, and Lord knows, y'all would rather be home sleeping, or at least warm. And I wonder if anyone ever thanks you? Probably not. So I'm thanking you. You guys work hard and you keep us safe and for that I am eternally grateful. Be safe tonight, y'all.

***

BACK TO WHY I AM A SUCKER . . .

The American ice skating pair of Inoue and Baldwin just landed the first ever throw-triple-axle in Olympic competition. "Like butter," one commentator, Sandra Bezic, stated rapturously. "Olympic history!!!" exclaimed Dick Button, tears colouring his voice.

I, of course, got verklempt, and had to reach for another Kleenex. I choose to blame my overworked tear ducts on the overload of cold medication and feverishness ... but you and I both know it's just because I'm a big Olympics sloot.

***

I love watching the luge competition ... but I just don't understand it. Luge and skeleton are among the most counter-intuitive sports, to my mind. Who was it that was sitting around one day and thought, "Let me lie down on something the size and relative weight of a large cutting board, and hurtle myself down an ice chute at speeds of up to 85 miles an hour"? And the inventor of the skeleton -- that genius decided to face the racer head-first.

Of course, I don't have to understand something to viscerally enjoy it. And the awful, sadistic part of me wants to viscerally experience something else: a major crash. I keep hearing the commentators talk about these awful crashes that the racers are involved in during their training runs, but I have yet to actually see one. I know, I know, this is deeply sick ... but it just seems to me that if you're going to chat about it, you should at least show me what you're chatting about.

***

I'm watching, through increasingly droopy eyes, a Chinese pair skating together. These are a powerful lot, these Chinese atheletes, for sure. But there's just something a little off about a skating pair where the woman and the man are the same height, same frame, same build, and apparently the same weight. I recognize that this is an utterly superficial and vapid observation ... but I know C.o.S. would agree with me. It's just an extension of how we both felt about Suriya Bonali back in the day ... remember her?! Powerful, yes. Dainty, no. Definitely no.

***

Must. Stay. Awake. For. Speed. Skating.