The Olympics are being held in my hometown, which means I'm supposed to be all excited about them. The sad truth is, beyond forcing Jon to watch the opening ceremonies with me (With intermittent cries of: "Look at the pan of the city! My house would be [points to somewhere four feet off the screen]! Isn't it pretty?!?!?") Jon decided to be nice and sit through the 2 hour show. We did not, however stay for the Special Treat. That was pretty ok by me-- at that point, my head had exploded from the combined hottitude of all the male skiers anyway. Something about professional winter athletes-- apart from the ice-skaters, the women show a startling tendency to look like their faces were scraped off a highway, but the weathering actually works on the menfolk.
Spirit Fingers has a rather splendid post about the positions male figure skaters get into (WITH ILLUSTRATIONS) here.
My other brush with the Olympic action was when I tried to go into the common room of Leverett G Tower to get a Twix bar this morning, and found myself confronted with a crowd of IMMENSE girls, all wearing head-to-toe Canada gear, intently watching the hockey. It was scary, I tell you. One of them could have BROKEN me, and I'm 5'9 and pretty good at defending myself. Scary Canadian hockey fans. Not that I don't love them. Just wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of any of these girls.