Tuesday, February 14, 2006

No More Tears!

The Olympics, to me, are better than a Hallmark card. I took the Bar Exam during the '96 summer Olympics, the year that perky girl Keri Strug broke her leg and still stuck her vault, the year that track star folded, and his father had to carry him over the finish line. Every day, I went to my bar review class until 3:00, then I went rollerblading with the bar review tapes in my headphones, and when I returned home, I pulled out the flashcards. But, every night at 8:00, I cracked a beer, and turned on the Olympics. Inevitably, whenever tragedy struck, or we won a medal (or we didn't win a medal), I cried. I thought it was stress, or a catharctic reaction.

I was wrong. Because when that Chinese skater, after having been body slammed into the ice, brushed off her tears, nodded her head for their music to be recued, and skated around in slow circles waiting for the music to get to the place where they could resume their program, the tears began to flow.

And, it made me even happier, that I too, had had my Olympic moment during the same evening. Yes, at 7:00 p.m., I bound off my last stitch, and at 7:53 p.m., I wove in the last end. Pinwheel blanket, to me, is a gold medal performance. It's 2ft by 2 ft, knitted in Blue Sky Alpaca, doubled, on 9's. I spoke to the mother-to-be yesterday, and she was telling me how her fingers had started to tingle, and when she had called her obstetrician, he told her that carpal tunnel syndrome is very common in pregnant women. While I did knit my little fingers to the bone (and yes, I do sleep!), I suffered no pain, no stiffmess, no tingling - somehow, I had passed it off to the expectant mom. So, for her pains, and the fact that I just can't accept that the Olympics is over for me, I am throwing in a little Picot Dress:
I'm using the 2 skeins of Koigu that my secret pal (who never revealed herself, oddly enough -- and I never got to thank her properly) sent me for the skirt, and on the top I'm going to pick a solid color. Also, I'm going to throw in an eyelet row so that I can have a bow at the waste.

I'm pretty confident that I can finish it before the end of the Olympics, but I'm also realistic enough to realize that I'm not going to finish it by Friday (because as a single person on Valentine's Day, I have some Olympic sized drinking to do with my equally perpetually single friend Jay, over our traditional Valentine's Day wings at Tangier), when I would have to pass the gift off to someone who could get it to the shower for me on Saturday (yes, I get to bail on the shower - it's my neice's b-day party at some G-d awful kid heaven like Chucky Cheese). So, the dilemna becomes do I send the blanket to the shower, and save the little dress for when the baby is born, or do I wait and just give her my whole gift myself? Decisions decisions.

At least my decision has nothing to do with to perform or not to perform after being pummelled into sheetrock.


Blogger Sherry W said...

Oh Zhang Dan falling made me cry too, and I usually do not cry during movies, TV shows. I htink you had to be a cement block not to cry for that.

8:03 AM  

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