Well, HELLO there!

My heart is all aflutter, and I simultaneously feel like I just awoke from one of those dreams where I am on the Metro and suddenly realize that I'm not wearing pants.

It turns out that there ARE more people reading this blog than my family and two best friends and Jules' mom. And if it weren't for the lovely Keenie Beanie, who, I have just learned, lives on the whoooole other side of the country, I would never have known it. So, hello Krys, and hello to Helen from Postcards from the Edge (of the West Country), who apparently led Krys (and, presumably, others) in my direction! And also to whomever else out there is reading Unagi that I'm unaware of. Welcome! I hope you'll stick around.

I cannot tell you how exciting it was to click over to Postcards and see my humble little blog's name in a list with my fave, Nothing But Bonfires, and several other of my must-read sites, so many thanks to Krys, for commenting and leading to this little revelation. Guess I need to step it up a bit and put on some pants. Metaphorically.

It also seems that Helen has "nominated" me for this “Kreativ Blogger” thing, which I don't really understand, but hey, I'll take it. (I'm so surprised! I didn't even prepare a speech. I'd like to thank the Academy...) And as part of the "rules" for that (wow, so many "quotes" in this "paragraph"), I am supposed to share a few things about myself. So without further ado…

1) I will eat nearly anything, but I strongly dislike olives, anything banana-flavored (except actual bananas), Indian food, and anything blue (except blueberries).

2) I quote Friends and The West Wing kind of a lot. One or other is nearly always applicable.

3) There is something about the shape of pigeons that makes me kind want to kick them. Not repeatedly or anything, but punted like a football, which is exactly how they are shaped. I expect that it would make a rather satisfying thwok sound. I should clarify that I have never actually kicked a pigeon, and I’m unlikely to do so unless I have just caught it pooping on my car.

4) The #1 place on my very lengthy to-visit list is Greece. It has been since I was ten years old, when I marked off the previous #1—New York City—which I visited while dressed like a young Amish girl. At the time, it seemed like the height of fashion. But a denim dress and a scrunchie were involved, so I’ll leave you to make your own judgment.

5) I get highly irritated when people pronounce “Appalachian” like “App-a-LAY-shin.”

Anyway, hello, nice to meet all of you, wherever you are. Please comment away so I’ll know who you are, too!

*****

In other news, G and Beth were here this weekend, and we had a grand old time. Basically, we went out for brunch (multiple times), introduced G to IKEA, watched WVU beat UK (word) and Tennessee lose to Michigan State (bummer). Oh, right, and went to see BON FREAKIN’ JOVI last night—the whole reason for their visit. I thought G was going to burst a blood vessel waiting for “Livin’ on a Prayer,” which, naturally, they played last. And, besides being awesome, the concert was also quite the cultural experience. It was as if all of rural Virginia and Maryland had put on their old Slippery When Wet tour t-shirts and ventured into the big city, though there were also a fair number of cardigans (we had three of them) and pearls in the hizzouse, too.

Incidentally, I had no idea how polarizing Bon Jovi is. Reactions to the news that I was attending the concert ranged from “SWEET!” to “Ew. Why?” But whatever, dudes, we all have our own cheesy musical proclivities, and mine lie squarely with Mr. Jon Bon Jovi and his apparent allergy to buttoning the top four buttons of his shirts.

Coming up for air

For approximately six weeks—from the beginning of February (pre-Snowpocalypse) to March 17—I did three things: eat, sleep, work. Get up, work a ten hour day in the office, come home, eat dinner, work until bedtime, lather, rinse, repeat.

Oh, and I destroyed my office. So much so that I had to bring in a second desk and computer because I couldn’t find the first one.**

Old desk:

Additional desk:

**That was mostly because my computer died and I had to use one of the office laptops for a few days, but there was no room on my actual desk, so I brought in another one. And during the last week of the work craziness, I had entered something akin to Finals Mode in college. At one point, I realized I had papers piled on every flat surface, three half empty coffee mugs, assorted food items, and a pair of socks in the corner.

And, okay, yes, the Olympics happened in there somewhere. But did you know that the Olympics make for a great background distraction while working? They do.

Since March 17, I have done the following:

• Read an entire book.
• Mentally composed an entire blog entry/rant about F***ing Republican Tourists and Their Incompetent Driving and Parking Habits, which I did not publish because it involved too many swear words for a blog whose limited readership includes grandparents, great aunts, and my mother. (And before I get yelled at for generalizing, yes, I am sure they were Republican, due to the McCain-Palin sticker on the back of the Escalade.)
• Become obsessed with spring scarves.
• Gotten lost in IKEA.
• Went car shopping for someone other than myself. (Note to Dad: you’re handling my car purchases forevermore. Thanks.)
• Discovered that the OnDemand feature of my cable also includes current TV shows, which led to my devouring of nearly the entire Burn Notice series.
• Had a one-woman dance party to Lady Gaga in my apartment. (That was the evening that I finally was free of my work restraints….and also St. Patrick’s Day. Surprisingly, green beer was not a factor.)
• Mentally composed a blog entry extolling the virtues of The Good Wife in general and Josh Charles in a leather jacket in particular, which I did not publish because it would’ve contributed nothing to public discourse. (If you’re wondering, it went something like this: “Josh Charles: more attractive as Will Gardner or Dan Rydell? Discuss.” ....Perhaps you can see why I did not post it.
• Bought a new purse. It’s yellow. And awesome.
• Spent several hours watching C-SPAN and thinking up pithy things to say about the healthcare debate as seen through the eyes of a West Wing fan (If you’re not on Twitter, you probably missed them. My work-obsessed mind could not handle anything beyond 140 characters, unless the subject was Yo-Yo Ma.)

And that is where I have been, lest you think I have abandoned cyberspace for greener pastures. They were not green, I assure you, but rather covered in stacks of paper and discarded Post-It notes. But I'm back. Hello.

Down with Plushie!

Well, our boy Evan Lysacek got it done last night, and aren't we glad? Who says the Cold War is over. Down with Russia!

I kid. I have a soft spot for some of the Russian athletes. So: down with Plushenko! I've taken to calling him Plushie. It's far less intimidating. (Unrelated, has anyone noticed how all the "official" athlete photos look like mug shots? Even the very gorgeous women look like hell.)

Anyway, I thought the men's skating was pretty awesome last night. Evan and--my favorite--Johnny Weir skated beautifully.

But. Did you see Michal Brezina of the Czech Republic? Frosted blonde hair, skated to Gershwin's "An American in Paris"? Here he is. Did he remind you of anyone? Perhaps....this fellow? With the frosted blonde hair, who skated to "An American in Paris"....but better?



That, of course, is American Timothy Goebel, who won bronze in Salt Lake City, was ALSO coached by Frank Carol (Lysacek's coach, and formerly Michelle Kwan's), and whom I adored. And while we're on this trip through Olympics past, here's one of my favorite men's performances of all time, by 2002 gold medalist (and, I should point out, Russian) Alexei Yagudin. That was the first year that I remember quads being a factor (he landed two of them, flawlessly), and it was the competition that began my loathing of Plushie.



Ahhhhhh. Love it.

And lastly, apropos of nothing, here's a response to those (who shall remain nameless) who find NBC's coverage a bit, say, sappy:

"Without patriotic fervor and feel-good stories, the Winter Olympics are just a series of options for going down a mountain. That hasn't been interesting since Moses did it." (From Sports Illustrated. Hat tip to Jules.)

And speaking of national anthems...

...here's a fun game!

O Say Can You Guess?

Your Olympics moment of zen

Did anyone else feel a sudden urge to transfer their citizenship to Canada while watching Alexandre Bilodeau receive his medal last night? No? Just me?

(I can't seem to embed the video, so here's the link.)

I think Canada might have my favorite anthem of all the countries. I mean, technically I can probably only identify theirs and England's, but still. I got a bit verklempt.

Three days in

I've said this before, I think, but the thing that always amuses me about the Olympics is its ability to make you spend hours watching sports that you would never, ever, under any circumstances care about.

I spent three hours on my couch yesterday afternoon, glued to the biathlon coverage. Biathlon, of course, is the one with the cross country skiing and the shooting. It is not exactly thrilling, I have to say, but oh, the SKILLZ. These guys are racing along on skiis, heart rates presumably through the roof, and then they have to drop to the ground and shoot five targets--each the size of a silver dollar, as the commentators told us numerous times--before getting up an skiing some more. Can you imagine trying to hit a target that size with your heart beating wildly like that? I cannot. It is seriously impressive.

There are also, of course, the sports that are TOTALLY EXCITING, like the short track speed-skating. I cannot get enough. Obviously Apolo Ohno is part of the draw, but also the DRAMA! Did you see that race the other night where he got his sixth medal? The Koreans were going to sweep! But then they crashed! And Apolo and that adorable JR Celski kid medaled! You cannot make this stuff up.

And then last night, bless his heart, the Canadian moguls skier Alexandre Bilodeau brought home Canada's first gold medal on home soil, which may have been even more exciting than when Hannah Kearney won the gold for the U.S. in the women's event the previous evening.

Oh, the drama. Oh, the awesomeness. I love the Olympics.

OH! That reminds me, I never told you what twizzles are. As I was looking up an easy definition just now, I found this handy feature from USA Today, where U.S. ice dancers Tanith Belbin and Ben Agosto show us some twizzles. Now you'll all be able to impress your friends during the ice dancing when you can identify the twizzles. (Can you tell that I like saying twizzles? I do. And, oddly, I now find myself craving Twizzlers. Huh.)

Get excited...

The fun begins! Time to start educating ourselves on Team USA.

Coverage of the figure skating teams, including--finally--a sort-of explanation of why the U.S. only has two entrants in the women's competition, as opposed to three in most of the others

NHL hockey players: Olympians, or no? As my fondness for hockey grows (Go Caps!), I'm getting more and more excited for the Olympic hockey tournament. "Miracle," which I have never seen, is next up on my NetFlix queue. [Side note: I attended the Caps-Maple Leafs ass-kicking game two weeks ago and, by the third period, I was seriously mad that I might not see any fights. And then, when one finally broke out, I cheered. What does this say about me as a person?]

And finally, for your daily dose of flamboyance, here's the ever-glittery Johnny Weir doing "Poker Face" at the US Figure Skating Championships.

T-minus 16!

Next up:
Olympics terminology -- What, exactly, are twizzles? The answer--and why you should care--coming soon.