caerula's Diaryland Diary

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it's my birthday too, yeah

Sherman brought in these amazing chocolate eclairs today for my birthday. So everyone is very happy that it's my birthday, not just me. Nothing like starting the day with pudding-filled chocolatey goodness.

So, 29 years ago today I was born. 1973. I suppose in the scheme of things it's not all that long ago, but it feels like it. When I think about how the world has change just in my lifetime, I can't even imagine what the Baby Boomers feel like. Never mind the WWII generation. No wonder my grandma's nuts.

And the Olympics start tonight. I always prefer the winter games to the summer ones; I'm far more interested in figure skating, skiing, and hockey than I am in track & field and swimming. And they don't tend to be such a huge embarrassing American spectacle, although that of course is negated this time by the fact that they're in Salt Lake City. Mormon central, as my LDS cousin calls it. And with all the patriotic fanatacism we're experiencing, I'm sure the heart-tugging athlete profiles and American pride spots will be worse than ever. I'm glad we can unplug the satellite and get CBC. The Canadian coverage is generally superb, and you get to see nifty stuff like curling and biathlon that the Americans ignore because we have no chance of medaling.

Ten years ago the Winter Olympics in Albertville opened on my birthday, too. That was the year of Bonnie Blair and Kristi Yamaguchi, Viktor Petrenko (ugh), Alberto Tomba (La Bomba) and tragic Dan Jansen. I remember the huge crush I had on Paul Wylie, and I still think he got cheated out of the gold. And he was so happy and humble with his silver, while Dick Button or whoever kept trying to get him to say he was angry and disappointed.

I'm looking forward to Mitch Albom's coverage in the Freep. He's covered every Olympics since Sarajevo for Detroit, and does a far more interesting, entertaining, funny job than any of the annoying NBC people. So I will watch the Opening Ceremonies tonight, or tape them if we end up going out to dinner, and every bit of coverage I can squeeze in over the next two weeks.

There's already been a bomb scare. It's probably futile to hope it's the only one. But I do hope that no one decides to find out how good the security really is.

I just got the most gorgeous flower bouquet delivered, from my mom and dad. It's got balloons and everything. And beautiful tulips and delphiniums and Gerber daisies. I wish I could take a picture of it for here. It's just gorgeous.

And now I think I'm going to get another �clair, because it's my birthday and I can. Happy birthday, General Sherman. Happy birthday, James Dean. Happy birthday, Gary Coleman. Happy birthday to me.

10:43 a.m. - February 08, 2002

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