Things the World Can Shut Up About Any Time Now

Here is a list of things I'm officially tired of hearing about at the moment:

Gabby Douglas's hair:  Gabby Douglas is a beautiful, extraordinarily talented girl.  So why the fuss over her hair?  I'm tired of hearing mothers, who pay exorbitant amounts of moolah to have chemicals drenched and a weave sewn into their  own young daughters' hair, criticizing the care and keeping given by our national hero's mama.  Her hair is, yes, relaxed and then pulled into a bun when working... like every other gymnasts' on earth.  Then, off duty, she wears the exact same hairstyle as my own teen-aged niece.  So the real question is, You got a problem with my niece's hair?   

 

Miley's hair: I absolutely love Miley Cyrus's new hairdo!  It suits her face, it suits her personality and it definitely suits her age.  So why do I keep reading headlines of shock and awe about whether there are deeper issues involved in this celebrity's haircut?  The world has no control over any one person's personal style choices and the sooner the world realizes this, the happier I'll be.  She is not really Hannah Montana!  And, besides, *secret to be spilt* Hannah Montana wore a wig.  I tried a very short hair cut myself in my twenties, the best time to experiment with extreme fashion.  I even tried to frost it to this shade of platinum, but mine turned out yellow instead.  Shocked?  Nope.  Jealous?  Absolutely.

Lindsay Lohan. Period.: Once upon a time, I watched Freaky Friday, Confessions of Teenage Drama Queen and Mean Girls so many times with my niece that I couldn't even venture a guess at the tally.  She was such a promising young actress at the time and then something went slightly off kilter.  The world took notice, then something went drastically wrong.  The world, then, never stopped paying attention, perpetuating a spiral that apparently was never to be recovered from.  World: Please, stop looking at her.  It's the only cure.  (Remember Speidi?  No?  Good.  See, my theory is now proven.)

Passive/aggressive Facebook posts featuring unsolicited parental advice: We get it, we get it... you're a good mom or dad.  No one doubted you. No one needed proof.  And, certainly no one wanted advice that didn't ask for it.  You see, being a good parent isn't a rarity.  Most parents I know are pretty great at it.  So, quit assuming you're way is best when most other parenting styles are working just as effectively.  Don't expect the world to praise you for refusing to vaccinate.  Don't expect a trophy for forcing your child to go vegan.  And, the world will absolutely not be throwing a banquet in your honor because you chose to breastfeed until the age of five.  The sooner you realize this, the sooner friends will start "liking" your statuses again. 

 

The chemicals I may be ingesting, at my own will, as a grown human being: Going along with the previous category; I myself don't need advice about my own diet either.  I have been eating meat, dairy, processed foods, carbs, preservatives and additives my entire life.  And, guess what?  I have my doctor's seal of approval!  If a number skews ever-so-slightly in a worrisome direction upon any visit, we make the appropriate dietary adjustments to correct and move on.  So, while I salute your self-control and your acquired taste for foods that taste like yard grass, while I tolerate your tolerance to ingest a product with the word "germ" in its title... I am uninterested in participating.  I eat, not for political or social agenda, but to stay fueled and living.  Seeing that I'm upright at the moment, breathing and typing... it appears that my way works too.  (Remember: It's your b.m.'s that are unusual in color and texture, not mine.)

Your political convictions: Newsflash! Your offensive critiques, exhausting Facebook rants and "clever" memes have yet to sway a single soul.  Yes, you're passionate.  You have your convictions.  But, guess what? We all do!  And, they're rarely identical.  That's why we show up at those polling stations with the little walled off booths that make one's vote private and sacred.  The way they were meant to be.

The designer names of your attire: When you're talking about your shoes, they're not your "Jimmy Choos", they're your shoes.  When your putting on your jacket, your not putting on your "Burberry", it's simply your jacket to rest of the world.  When you're digging through your purse, you're not digging through your "Louis Vuitton", it's just a bag, for the love of Pete!  If you feel the need to turn every label into a noun, think long and hard about why you feel the need to do that and then be very sad with yourself.  If you, then, still feel the need to pronounce your "Gucci"s, I'll give you a head start while zip up my Gaps and lace up my Targets.

More "Normal" Talk: Who Needs Lasers Edition

It's Sunday so, of course, I found myself in the company of my brother's kids again which, of course, found us in the car at some point which, of course, once again led to silly little boy talk.  (It's better than the radio on a good day.  On a bad day, not so much.)

We were driving down a country road as Fourteen-year-old Sister blissfully watched the scenery of pretty houses go by and began to describe her own dream home.  This led Ten-year-old (previously referred to as "9YO" but, he just had a birthday, so you'll have to adapt) to ramble on about his own dream residence. (Funnily enough, each of their dream homes have only one bedroom.)  Which left the coda to this fantasy-spilling session to the six-year-old (yes, previously "5YO" and also with a recent birthday.)

"I just want a normal house.  Normal normal normal.  One bedroom, one bathroom, one kitchen and one laser to keep the bad guys out."

You could almost audibly hear him ponder whether or not a house with the security of a sizzling laser-zapping system was allowed under his definition of "normal", so he quickly corrected himself:

"No, wait.  No laser.  Just a normal house with one bedroom, one bathroom and one cat.  If a bad guy comes in I'll just ask him, 'Will you please leave now and stop terrorizing my cat?' If he doesn't listen I'll give him one knuckle.  If he still doesn't listen I'll give him another knuckle.  If he still doesn't listen it's a knuckle to the balls and then I beat him up." (five second pause) "Oh.  And, I'll have one dog too."

The price of admission to my Trailblazer has just gone up.

Olympics Wrap-Up

The summer Olympics left quite an impression on me this time around.  From the opening ceremony (that apparently someone had awaken the Queen from a much-needed nap for) to the medal after medal after medal for the red, white and blue.

Here were some of the standout moments (good and bad) in my opinion:

Teletubby Hill: Yes, for some reason or another, they decided to use the mound in which the Teletubbies reside as a backdrop for the opening of the games.  All that build-up, but nary a Teletubby appearance to be had.  Not even for a little song or dance.  Not even to light the giant cauldron.  Not even Po.

Olympic Fashion: Jocks have never had a reputation for being the most fashion-forward of cliques.  But, some of the wardrobe choices at this summer's events left me particularly befuddled.  From the french-cut U.S. ladies gymnast uniforms (coming in a variety of hues, including particular shades of pink and purple that I don't recall ever seeing on our nation's flag), to the sports bra-over-tshirt look that many of the foreign beach volleyball teams adopted, to the men's synchronized diving speedos that managed to cover not even one buttcrack, to the fluttery shorts worn in the male gymnasts' floor routines, giving a whole new meaning to the sports term "ball out".

The obvious DWTS Predictions: Once they return home after the games, you just know that at least one lady from the glamorous U.S. women's track team and one beach volleyball gal with a lusciously thick ponytail will be receiving calls from the Dancing With the Stars casting team.

The Most Obvious Wheaties Box Cover Girl: Miss Gabby!  I just adore her.  Yes, I've called her She-ra... but, I meant it in the nicest way!

D-bag; Is he or isn't he? Ryan Lochte was the front runner to replace Michael Phelps as America's golden boy.  Then his mom innocently blabbed that, yes, he is single because he doesn't have the time for a serious commitment right now, just lots and lots of one night stands.  D-bag!   Well, then Ryan quickly went to the press to apologize for his mother's grasp on American slang. She thought one night stands were when you just go on a date with a girl once and it doesn't turn into a relationship. Awww... just misunderstood.  Then the paparazzi posts pictures of a blurry-eyed Lochte in the back of a cab with a blonde chick climbing all over him.  D-bag!  Well, the next day it comes out that Ryan was simply out celebrating with his family that night and it was just his sister climbing into the cab with him and the rest of the fam.  Awww... misunderstood.  Well, I'm sure the "is he or isn't he" debate is just warming up for now.  Until the world comes to a final consensus, Ryan, you might want to distance yourself from that family of yours!

Other Moments in "What Were Their Parents Thinking?":  Whoever decided to name their daughter Destinee Hooker should thank their lucky stars that she developed Olympic-worthy volleyball skills and thus could avoid the only two other sensible career options available to the moniker.  (Then again, while Googling the above pic, I came across some racy other shots of Miss Destinee and volleyball, sans uniform. Just stay on the court, girl.  Prove your mama wrong and stay on that court!)

Thankfulness: I personally like it when people of other nations also point to Heaven in praise when they win the gold, silver or bronze. It just goes to show, once and for all, that God doesn't favor particular sports teams.

Moments in Poor Sportsmanship:

Sore Losers:  For how many seconds did you feel sorry for McKayla Maroney when she botched up her vault routine, before you suddenly turned on her for pouting over winning the silver?  It's a silver medal in the Olympics!  You were second best in that event out of every gymnast in the entire universe!  (How much you want to bet she melts down Gabby's golds on the flight home in a jealous rage?)

Or, how about Morgan Uceny who, after falling down in the women's 1500 meter, decided the most sportsmanly thing to do was to beat her fists on the ground in disappointment rather than bite her lip, shed a tear and hobble her way to the finish line. 

Note to fallen heroes: Yes, you've trained and practiced for the past four years like you've never trained or practiced in your entire life. Yes, the last 1,460 days have all been leading up to this one singular moment.  Yes, you've let yourself down in your few seconds to shine, with the entire world's eyes on you. But, you have to remember, you're not just representing yourself out there.  It's your team, your fans and your country that you're letting down.  Not by tripping or falling, but by being a pouty second-placer or an angry non-finisher.  Bite your lip, shed your tear... but manage to cross that finish line and you'll still hear the roar of applause.

Haven't these people ever seen Cool Runnings?

Poor Winners: Usain Bolt.  Need I say more?  I also nominate Mr. Bolt for Most Likely to Bring Home a V.D.  Don't tell me this boy has never uttered the phrase, "Hey ladieees, who wonts to sleep witha win-na???" (Double or nothing, he'll also wear his medals to bed with you.) *cringe*

Which leaves us with my gold-winner (no pun intended) of the entire 2012 Summer Olympic Games:

Pee Water:  Once Ryan Lochte finished explaining away his family's errs, he casually revealed that all Olympic swimmers pee in the pool.  Which left the viewing audience forever distracted during all further water-related events.  They're peeing in the pool.  They're peeing in the hot tubs.  They're peeing while the water runs down them from the wall showers.  Synchonized swimmers are dancing in it.  Michael Phelps is gulping up pee water by the gallon.  Divers are splashing head-first into it.  Synchonized divers merit twice the amount of urine in their eyes. And, is that a bubbly current we see on the underwater cam?
 

Yes, the games that started out as a confusing episode of Teletubbies with a cranky royal as its host, went on to be forever summed up by the phrase "pee water."  Thank you, Olympians, for the memories... and whole new meanings to the phrases "Go for the gold" and "Number one!"