Like the wrench and the cracker

just got back from Athens where my sister and her two daughters and I went to the season opener of the uga women’s gymnastic team.  It was a lot of fun.

While I enjoy spectating in general, and I can follow gymnastics pretty well (they fall down bad, they ’stick the landing’ good) I could definitely tell a difference between my own commentary and what I would have heard if I’d been watching it on TV.  You know like the music in a scary movie.  Or any movie really; happy music happy stuff, impending doom music impending doom stuff. 

So the thing is I didn’t know when to pay attention or the back history of each athlete or the move they couldn’t do until now.  I missed that stuff.  But it was still fun.  Plus it was a big breast cancer awareness fundraiser thing so there was pink pink pink pink pink.  What more could a 5 and 2 girl ask for?

I was also SHOCKED and how young everybody looked.  Not the 5 and 2 year olds but all the college kids.  I know that 12 year olds can’t go to college but damn that’s what they looked like.  I wonder what the person who saw me when I was in college and thought I looked twelve is doing now?  They’d be……almost 40.  Awesome.

crazy sitcom-worthy stuff happens to me everyday and I just wish it was easier to share it all with you.  Woe is me.  Here is what I can remember:

 Big D poser

I turned left from Briarcliff onto Ponce the other day and what black man do I see standing there with his cane?  SOME RANDOM BLACK DUDE WITH A CANE!  Where is Big D I ask!  Is this some new school v. old school thing.  Did big D retire?  Can Culture icons do that?  If Creative Loafing doesn’t pick up on this soon I’m gonna write a letter.

Childhood Irrationalities Vindicated

When my sister and I were younger he had bunkbeds, who didn’t.  And I think I’m not alone when I say that we fought over who got to sleep on the top bunk.  Or who had to sleep on the top bunk.  Two big reasons, we rotated who slept on the top bunk becasue invariably that person would fall off and you got bonus points if you hit your head on the dresser on the way down.  (That’s actually a great segue into the first time I saw a penis…I’ll definitly save that for another blog.) 

ANYHOO, my big motivation for not sleeping on the bottom bunk was the fear that if I was on the bottom then surely the occupant of the top bunk would wet the bed which would result in a PG golden shower.  Every adult I every shared this fear with assured me that was impossible.  Ha ha, not so I tell you!  This christmas I went on a roadtrip with my sister, her partner and my two nieces.  Guess who slept on the bottom bunk under said 5 and 2 year old?  Guess who awoke to the cold drip drip drip of (you got  it) of someone else cold pee.

Merry Christmas to me.  I’ll admit I was so pleased to be right after all these years that I wouldn’t change a thing.  What is wrong with me?