Feb
13
I know next to nothing about Olympics sports or athletes but it has been great fun being able to tune in now and then and instantly become deeply invested in whatever’s currently happening. It’s an interesting phenomenon, really: one minute none of us have given a single thought to, say, women’s slalom skiing, the next we’re all hanging on every gate turn and offering our in-depth opinions about their technical scores. John mentioned that it would be awesome if you could choose your commentary track — like, you can pick the discipline expert sportscaster who carefully explains all the mechanics and mishaps unfolding onscreen, OR you can choose to listen to a couple of drunk guys trying to figure out curling.
I have been watching an unusual amount of TV lately because my back went from “hmmm” to “NOPE” and so I spent several days in a recliner with a heating pad which was just as exciting as it sounds. I didn’t even have a good book on hand and ended up reading a bunch of dirty Sherlock/Watson slashfic on my phone, so if you have any questions about how Sherlock’s legendary powers of observation might impact his lovemaking skills I am FULL of useful information.
My back has slowly been improving but in a bid to hurry up a return to normalcy I got a deep tissue massage yesterday. The therapist was a birdlike wisp of a woman who nonetheless had the grip of a bench vise, I have no idea how one small human can wield that much power from her fingertips but I had to go to my happy place (the bottom of a bag of Sweet n’ Salty Boom Chicka Pop) and stay there for the entire hour. She zeroed in on every tender, resistant square inch of flesh and dug in like she was trying to find a buried piece of bubble wrap. I was too embarrassed to request that she lighten her touch from “the atmospheric pressure on the surface of Saturn” to “something that doesn’t actively clear out my sinuses,” but after enduring sixty minutes of her Gitmo tactics I had to admit I felt much more relaxed and loosened up, like a wrung-out dishrag. Or possibly I was just relieved to be done?
My favorite part about watching the world’s highest level of sports performances from my invalid-chair is how it seems like every other athlete is competing despite some god-awful injury they endured less than a year ago. NBC invariably trots out the photo of them lying in a hospital bed, recuperating from some accident where their actual spleen came out their eyesocket, and now here they are hurtling down an ice-covered hill at 85 MPH. It’s enough to make a person feel a tiny bit self-conscious about spending days parked unmoving in front of the TV because “Ermm, I stood up funny.”
Not too self-conscious to continually critique their techniques, though. Heck, this is even more fun than when I used to act like I knew what I was watching on So You Think You Can Dance. I mean did you SEE that guy bobble the rails? Amateur hour. *stuffs another pretzel in mouth, knowledgeably*
Sherlock/Watson slash fic? Omg that’s funny!
Thanks to this post I have regained my will to live if only to read more of your posts (spleen coming out of eyesocket did it.)
I’ve gone so deep in my SYTYCD sofa-side smugness that I now skip the dancers and just critique the choreography, like “Ugh, Travis Wall, your shit is sooooo derivative. You owe Mia Michaels that Emmy! P.S. You’ll never be Brian Friedman.”
Just one unsolicited piece of advise from another back pain sufferer: dry heating pads are a no-no. Something about drying out your tissue. Get yourself one of those bead filled things that you microwave and that provide moist heat. They provide pain relief + help the stressed muscles heal.
I couldn’t stay upright on a snowboard, but man, I can critique it. Love the Olympics!
The worst part is the reporters pestering the athletes before they can even catch their breath.
“You’ve spent every waking moment of the last 23 years training for this event that lasts 14 seconds and now you’ve failed spectacularly on the world stage! Tell us, HOW DO YOU FEEL?”
Ugh, I want to stab them.
OMG, Linda, you hit the nail smack dab in the middle of the head again! You are hilarious. Please keep writing for us. We love it!!!!
I was totally obsessed with the speedskating last night — something I haven’t even thought of for oh, four years …
“so if you have any questions about how Sherlock’s legendary powers of observation might impact his lovemaking skills”
Do tell!
I read that as BS MPH, which is also right.
domino 112
PyeongHarangue : All
I doubt you want advice but you can always ignore this comment. I used to have my lower back go out at least once a month. Three things have made it so I haven’t had my back go out in…. at least four years. Two don’t really apply to you: I lost excess weight and started exercising regularly. The third was monthly chiropractic appointments. Every once in a while I’ll feel that warning twinge in my back but, if I go to the chiropractor, I’m fine. Thanks for letting me laugh until I cry. Good luck!
Engagement will be an integral factor for creating a breeding ground where mindful awareness will flourish and peak performance can endure.
(Smiles)
It may (or may not) pay well, but I’ve read you for YEARS, and your talent for writing hilarious stuff hasn’t dropped off a bit!
OMG I love the way you write! You are still so SO funny! I would seriously buy your book and read and re-read and re-re-read it the way I do David Sedaris. xoxoxo