It's My Birthday

And there you have it.

I am 35.

I celebrated in part by buying regular incandescent energy wasting light bulbs yesterday for my living room. Because the other bulbs were hurting my eyes. Sorry. That's just how it is.

I have gray hairs that are starting to make a visible appearance (to me, anyway) and while I wanted to age gracefully, I think to myself "these hairs were not supposed to show up for another 10 years!"

I have 4.5 kids.

I have a fabulous, fabulous husband.

I think I might take a nap.

And then go and buy a book.

And maybe make some key lime pie for a birthday cake. We'll see.

At 35, a lot of things are flexible and optional.

That's what I'm telling myself, anyway.

image found here.

Everyone's A Critic (An Olympic Post For Tress and LorFlor)

Note to Yevgeny Plushenko (and all you other quad jump whiners):

Dude.

Your program just wasn't as good.

Yes, you are a power house skater and that's great. It's fun to watch your jumps. And quads? Yeah, the risk! the excitement! I'm all for it.

But the idea that power should trump grace and other technicalities just because it's more powerful...let's just turn all sports into Rugby, please. The finesse is always part of the game. Especially in figure skating. You need both.

Also, your program last night was a little messy and slightly unbalanced. You landed the jumps. You were lucky. Also the pandering to the judges (hip wiggle wiggle kiss)? Cute. But no cigar.

Evan landed his jumps in spectacular and graceful fashion and had a beautiful program. And if you think it's a bunch of men keeping the sport alive by waiting anxiously before the television screen to see you amp it up, let me tell you my husband was asleep and I was the one watching. Someone said something like "People watch skating because they like to watch warriors." That someone is drinking kool-aid.

I want both. And last night Evan Lysacek was better, and better to watch.

That's all. Be a good sport about winning the silver. I know you say you like to have enemies and to be considered the bad guy, but you'll be happier if you learn a little bit about being not just powerful, but graceful. On the ice and in defeat.

Lenten, maybe

It's not that I don't have things to write about; I do. It's that I don't think about writing about them.

Instead I have been thinking about finding a really good key lime pie recipe and wondering about names for boys. Which will be harder do you think?

I think it will be the boy name, hands down. The pie I can always do over. And over. And over. And eat a lot of pie (Mmmm). And gain some weight (but I'm doing that anyway).

But naming a baby? That one is going to stick.

In any case, I may be sparse here in the blog area for awhile. Not that I haven't already said that awhile back.

And not that I am not pretty sparse already. Things are sparse here in blog land.

I don't really celebrate Lent. I love the idea though, and I am going to put away unnecessary computer stuff for awhile. I still have to pay my bills and occasionally check my email because that is how business gets done. And I may blog as regularly as I have been because it's not so much blogging that is the issue as other stuff. (Like reading your darn good blogs. And the NY Times online.)

Of course, a million things may suddenly force me to write about them as soon as I publish this post. But lately I feel too connected to my computer and I have this intense desire to turn it off, even as I want to check my email again. So not so much about the blog as everything else.

In the meantime I am going to make some really good key lime pie, consider a good name for this baby (boys are harder to name than girls, I think), and comfort my daughter whose life has become a WWF wrestling match with her brother. (Not that she doesn't dish some of it out herself.)

And now, off to the dishes.