i’ve been double fisting it with the licorice as of late. i ate three for breakfast this morning, certain that i had reddish goo stuck in my teeth hugging friends at church. i think the candy is helping me calm my olympic jitters. these olympics are getting me all crazy. if i ordered my greatest loves the olympics would rate there with white chocolate covered toffee, friday night lights, living next to 7/11 (i have a weird obsession with convenience stores. i love being within reach of batteries, slurpees, aspirin, and those tiny containers of ice cream), wearing sweats all day, cuddling, spaghetti, late night pillow talks, sisters and the color orange. all these loves make me stupid happy.
so far i’ve cried, repeatedly. i cried when the opening ceremonies aired. i cried when the irish gymnast who battled injuries, overcame doctors diagnoses saying he would never even walk again, and the fact that he entirely paid for his own career through bake sales and car washes. have you ever even heard of an irish gymnast? no! this kid was incredible! i would buy a couple dozen brownies from you little irish man. i cried as the unknown Kazakhstan cyclist crossed the finish line and even the anguish on the faces of the others that fell. and most surprisingly, i’ve cried during the commercials.
what gives with the fruit of the loom commercials! who is making these commercials?! people floating through the air. i’ve already downloaded the song and it might, just might, appear on my website in the near future. and that Nike commercials about greatness… the kid flying on the pogo stick, the little african boy free falling from the high dive or the fat kid running?!? what the heck people, i’m a blubbering mess. commercials are usually interruptions, not inspiration.
commercials. interruptions. the things in life that take us away from where we really
want to be. and i was reminded of a quote, left as a comment, on my blog a few weeks ago and a text i received from a dear friend. read it slow because it is kind of deep, “The great thing, if one can, is to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptions of one’s ‘own’, or ‘real’ life. The truth is of course that what one calls the interruptions are precisely one’s real life—the life God is sending one day by day: what one calls one’s ‘real life’ is a phantom of one’s own imagination.” amen, mr. c.s. lewis, well said.
i might just have to add olympic commercials to my ‘greatest loves’ list. oye, there you go again olympics, making everything about my life better. am i a bad mom that i keep whispering in Manoah’s ear that if he tries hard enough he can be in the next michael phelps? i should probably back down on that. a little.
okay, now i’m off to eat more licorice. ladies gymnastics and all this licorice is gonna give me an ulcer.
i’ll leave you with pictures from a fun filled week with family.
(baby letta! i loved meeting you! my cousin’s baby girl!)
(mini-surprise party for my mom)