I have to say, it was nice to have some time to sit back and watch the Olympics last night. That Paul Hamm, what a stallion! I think it’s funny, because I used to have a vegetarian girlfriend who’s last name was Hamm but she pronounced it like the meat, not all accenty “Homm” style. I became extremely involved when the crowd started booing the scores of the sexy gymnast from Russian. (Can you tell I have a thing for biceps going on here?) WOW! Such drama. Up until last night, the Olympics have been this mystical thing I keep forgetting to watch. I’ll be in a bar and I’ll look up and see Women’s High Beam on the big screen TV–CRAP, I should really watch this. It’s history in the making. And than I’ll down my bourbon on ice and forget to even pay attention. (Now that the college kids are back in town there are some truly, fabulous, drink specials available).
Meanwhile, Josh’s parents are moving to Kansas City, Missouri (Ugh) and they’re cleaning out their house. They dropped off a box of Josh’s stuff, including a journal dating back from the time he spent in Brazil ( 8 years ago!). I’ve never known Josh to write in a journal, but he was certainly motivated back than. (I’m the one that has the angsty sprial notebook covered with stickers and band tickets taped to the inside cover). I was kind of worried he might read something that might reveal he made a mistake in marrying me, or something equally life-shattering. You never know what you’ll find reading old stuff…but a lot of the times it just makes one feel wierd. (Like: Woah. Was I really that insecure?).
Last night I began another semester of teaching ballet. Yup, another round.
Classic Moment: I was organizing the kids by their birthdays. I have a pair of twins shouting at me about how they have the SAME birthday, who’s going FIRST? And so I actually said, “Well, who came out first?” Hopefully that didn’t sound too graphic.