Evolution of the Olympic Personality

Well, who doesn't like to watch the Olympics?
I love watching the swimming, diving, gymnastics, and track and field in the summer games. It's addictive. We've been staying up way too late.

While it's subtle, you can see a bit of a difference as each Olympics passes. The US is famous for its hero worship and elevation of all sorts of folks--deserved or not--to a pedestal. The gamut obviously ranges from Paris Hilton to Al Gore to Natalie Portman to Pete Wentz to...professional wrestlers. Normally, most of it makes me a little sick to my stomach.

When the Olympics come around, the worship goes to the athletes, which is mostly a good thing. You have the great stories of courage, like Kerry Strug; the "rebels" like Elvis Stoyko or Surya Bonali, the uber-athletes like Mark Spitz. This year it's Michael Phelps.

Boy, is it fun to watch that kid swim. (Hello, age. Kid?) He's remarkable. And when they interview him, for the most part, he still seems grounded, though very confident. Likable.

Now, here's the weird part--and unfortunately I can't find this graphic to share--NBC has actually created a Michael Phelps "countdown bug". In case you don't know, a "bug" in broadcast is the little graphic they put in the lower right hand corner of your screen, usually to brand something or to tell you what's coming up.

"Michael Phelps: 5 minutes"

What? I feel like it's the Olympics on E! for crying out loud. Let me just hear it from the announcer. What if he's not the only reason I'm watching? Hasn't this taken our hero worship to a level that contradicts the principle of the Olympics a bit?

(Not that I'm not going to miss one medal race for men's swimming...)

(photo courtesy AP/David J. Phillip)

Dinner Surprise II

Just to recap for anyone who hasn't seen this before..."Dinner Surprise" is whatever the heck I come up with based on the ingredients in my fridge. We rarely plan a whole meal when we shop and it's decided when we walk in the kitchen every night. Usually, it's just a series of proteins and vegetables we come home with.

Had some good-looking swordfish as a start, tonight. I figured I could pair it with Stew's potato salad.

I made a mango salsa to go with the swordfish. It was great.
1/2 avocado
1/2 mango
1/2 tomato (cored)
chives
good slice of red onion

Chop it all up and put in a bowl. Add fresh lime juice and some salt. Stir and refrigerate. Mmm.


Vegetable. Needed a vegetable. Yellow and green squash in the fridge. Cut one of each up in long slices. Buttered a small casserole dish.

Melted some butter (2 tbsp?). Took it off the heat. Stirred in sour cream, about 3 tbsp, about 2 tbsp of grated pecorino romano, and a couple good shakes of seasoned breadcrumbs. Made it a little thinner with some milk. Threw the squash in the pot, stirred it all up, put it in the casserole. Baked it at 350 for, oh, I don't know. Until it was done.

(Of course I forgot to take a picture until we had eaten most of it. But you get the idea.)

We bagged the potato salad. Totally unnecessary.

What did you have for dinner?

Weekend Photos

Honestly, we're not really fancy folk. But you wouldn't know it...


My father-in-law got a new car. My husband was taking them out for a spin. Check out the movie star in the back.


Yes, the baby is wearing gold sandals. I know. It's beyond.

Domestic Combat

I am not a good creature-killer. By creature, I mean some sort of thing that has interrupted your domicile with its presence. A bug or the like. Usually I have C take care of it, if he's home.

Last night, with C still away on business, I had to take action on my own. A large moth flew upstairs into my bedroom.

It should be noted I have lost good cashmere to moths. They are evil, and must be destroyed once they enter my home.

The moth lands on one of our bedroom skylights, on the screen. I pick up a sock (C's, of course) and roll it into a ball. I aim...and throw.

Direct hit! The moth swoops down, practically hits me in the head - so much I have to duck, and dives toward the floor near my doorway.

I pick up a flip-flop and chuck it at the intruder, crushing it.

Me, 1...moth, 0.

I'm not sure why I'm posting about this; most likely because I'll venture a guess that everyone else out there has had some sort of twisted pride in a victory like this at one time or another.

Have you?

Oh, I just don't have time for this nonsense.

No, not blogging, silly.

I got some sort of virus--the less-than-24 hour variety--this morning. I'll leave the details as that I spent much too much time in the loo. Feeling better now.

Admittedly, I was slightly panicked because my C is away on business for a few days. Oh jeez, what if I drop J at the train (my nanny) at the end of the day and I'm sick? Like, really sick? O needs a lot of attention and G, well she's just a baby. And if they get sick I'll feel awful that I gave it to them.

Am I that inept, you wonder? What, of course I can handle my kids on my own. But I haven't had to do it sick yet. Thank goodness it was a quick one. Saved...thank you, fate.

I write this as I wait for G to wake up from her "last nap" for a night bottle, then I can go to bed.

Leaving you with a funny today that a good friend sent to me...hits the nail on the head. I didn't author it, as I do not have an official naturally-born "sister".

MY LIVING WILL

Last night my sister and I were sitting in the den and I said to her, "I never want to live in a vegetative state, dependent on some machine and fluids from a bottle to keep me alive. That would be no quality of life at all. If that ever happens, just pull the plug."

So she got up, unplugged the computer, and threw out my wine.

She's such a bitch.

Hee hee. Have a good night everyone.

G: Peas

Wow. This was fun tonight.

Tired. But I want to post, something.

Therefore, an easy picture montage.

G's first "swim" at our friends' (gorgeous) pool 2 weekends ago.


O's last day of camp (already!)...dancing while waiting for the bus in the morning.


I can't decide whether O was puffing up his cheeks to look like G, or whether they actually do have similar profiles.

Some days I just stare at the pictures. They are too much.