As usual lots on my mind, but no time.

Somehow, I make time for Olympic figure skating. My figure deceived people then as it does now, but I used to be on the ice at least three times a week. I have my only competition outfit still hanging in my closet. A little black and white number.

I’ve been keeping mum about all the figure skating madness because most of it has seriously been driving me mad. Michelle pulling out? I watched that old heartbreaking “Fields of Gold” performance online and cried. Sandhu messing up? I am so crushed I cannot even bring myself to put in that VHS tape into the VCR. I’d rather pretend that it didn’t happen in the long program as it did in the short. I am still reeling from Marie-France Dubreuil’s freak fall out of Patrice Lauzon’s arms. GAH.

What a blessing to have come home after a long day of researching for a paper that will not be only to tune into the women’s short program. Honestly, it’s much less stressful without my girl Michelle in the running, but it’s still exciting.

I’m rooting big time for Fumie Suguri. That cutie skated her little heart out. Her teammate Shizuka Arakawa may be one spot ahead, but I want Fumie to win that medal for Japan. Let Fumie’s be the country’s first medal at Torino! Woo!

I’m all torn. I love little Sasha Cohen. She’s one feisty little bugger. She was all dramatic and pissy after Salt Lake and pulled a total bitter Michelle Kwan, firing and switching coaches left, right and centre. And it looks like some of that craziness paid off because she was HOT tonight.

But then there’s gold favourite, Irina Slutskaya, the Queen of the Biellman. She’s gone through so much shit. I’m not just talking about the typical personal disappointment (hello, silver medal in 2002) but tough shit like bowing out of competition because your mother is suffering from kidney disease and later learning that you’ve got your own health troubles that will affect your skating.

I don’t know. I find myself rooting for Cohen. Maybe it’s an old grudge against rosy-cheeked Irina from the Kwan glory days.

Enough of that.

It’s Tuesday. SPT time. Here I am embracing my “imperfections.” Acne? Jutting jaw? Ha! I don’t care! I’ve got a great smile and some killer earrings that I MADE ALL BY MYSELF. BOOYAH.

Now for the unofficial picture taken only to show off my brand spankin’ new wristwarmers made especially for me by Bob. I love them! Wool and alpaca, baby. Rock on. Don’t I look gangsta rocking the crafty goodness in my kiddie room?

This entry was posted on Tuesday, February 21st, 2006 at 10:27 pm and is filed under The Sacred and Mundane.
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