The Inmates Run the Asylum

Ah, the Olympics...where I forego country allegiance to root for the cute guys.

Yeah, I pulled something rooting for/drooling over Alexandre Depastie. Damn, he can rock a speedo.

Anyway, my drool fit sparked an interesting conversation between me and Carrie. During a commercial break, she turned to me and asked, "Do you perv on ANYONE from America?"

Good question.

There's was some list making and soul searching and map consulting. The abacus was looked at, but ultimately not needed.

Turns out I perv on one, maybe two guys from the States.

It was also noted that with only one or two exceptions, my guys all fit a similar bill.

When I find a groove, I wallow in it.

The lady from Romania runs nearly two and a half hours, wins the gold medal, and then takes a victory lap. This is a train of thought I just can't hop on.

Then again, I don't run unless something's chasing me and even then, I'm hard pressed.

I have not felt good all week. Run down. Weak limbs. Fuzzy headedness. I think part of it is because I've been staying up late watching the Olympics so many nights in a row. I attempted to go to bed earlier and had trouble sleeping. I'm telling you. My body and I need couples' counseling.

For the most part, I've been trying to carry on as normal, not letting myself slack (though my writing has suffered). But tonight, I just couldn't face making fish tacos. Since I have to cook the fish in batches, it involves quite a bit of standing at the stove. I didn't feel up to it.

DEAR GOD YOU'D THINK I CONDEMNED EVERYONE IN THIS HOUSE TO STARVE!

There was weeping and gnashing of teeth and wailing...okay, it wasn't that bad, but really. I've felt like ass all week but still made dinner three nights AND went to the grocery store. There is food! You will not die if I don't make it!

Apparently, these people have confused me for their mothers. Obviously, I have spoiled them and should do a lot less cooking in the future. Brats.

I still don't know if I like "In the Dark". My polishing continues, but I'm not sure it's good.

I think I'll try to make it another early night tonight. Maybe my body will get the hint this time.

I'm going to have to start posting earlier in the day because the Olympics haven't eaten my soul. I just got so sucked in to watching men's gymnastics.

Someone explain the pommel horse to me. Seriously. I can't tell if a guy does well on it or not. And apparently it's virtually impossible to score well on it. Are the judges scoring nazis? Does no gymnastics team own a pommel horse? Is the fear of whacking your junk that strong? What? Someone explain the intricacies of this event to me because I am lost.

I'm trying to expand my culinary horizons. Well, I would be if I weren't so lazy. I guess it would be more accurate to say I'm trying to master things I've made only a couple of times before.

Tonight I made chicken quisadillas for dinner. I've only made them twice and the last time was Superbowl, I think. I'm trying to work on making them quicker and simplifying my method while still making them right. I'm really kinda failing at that. I think I've got a workable method that's quicker, but I sacrificed a little quality to get it. It's going to take some practice I fear.

And don't think it's escaped my attention that I make mostly Mexican food. I swear, if it involves a tortilla and citrus, I can't screw it up.

I've had the Olympics on all day while I was reading and supposedly working on "Not Pretty" (sudden crippling "hey, I'm way out of my league and don't think I can pull this off" pains). I've come to the conclusion that if you're reasonably good looking and close to water, I dig you.

I'm still harboring a crush on a Canadian diver from four years ago (OMG! He's in this year, too!).

Tonight I found lust with a USA swimmer.

And at some point during the day, I invited a British rowing team to my house.

I'm not sure how many medals the USA has won, but I know my horomones are going for the gold, baby.