Until we meet Again

Well my friends, it’s been a rough week.  The Olympics are over and now I’m dead and nothing has meaning anymore.  It was a quick 2 week affair that traveled the entire scale of emotion.  It was passionate and intense – late nights and little sleep.   We both knew there was an expiration date but I just wasn’t ready.  It’s a tragic love story really.  I’m in love with what I can’t have.  Story of my life.  We see each other for two weeks every two years.  It’s never enough time.  Each goodbye is a dagger through my heart.  In summary, my fire has been snuffed.  My days have a little less purpose.  Minutes seem like hours and days feel like weeks.  What is life?  And if you’re asking yourself if I could possibly be more dramatic, the answer is probably.  (sigh) Parting is such sweet sorrow…

I think the Lord above must’ve actually felt sorry for my heartache because last night I found myself within inches of the U.S. women’s hockey team.  I.died.  Gold medals everywhere.  I was so beyond excited I couldn’t even talk.  I always talk.  I talk way too much.  The reality is, I should shut up so much more often than I do.  But I don’t.  I talk.  Extensively.  Moronically.  So when I actually can’t speak, something epic is afoot.  The only other time I found myself speechless was when I saw Carol Burnett.  I don’t think I spoke for a full 48 hours.  She is a living legend, don’t even get me started.  Back to the point, I was in awe.  Hockey is my favorite winter Olympics event.  I did not plan this nor did I expect this.  It was a true situation of kismet.  Even while people were rushing up to them to get pictures I just sat back, absorbing the moment, taking it all in and ultimately trying not to melt directly into the floor.  So that happened at the beginning of the game and then I was like – now I have to watch regular dudes missing the majority of their teeth play hockey?  Where’s the climax in that?  Ugh.

Can we discuss the closing ceremonies?  That 13 year old rocked out an entire stadium like a TOTAL boss.  When I was 13 I was deciding how much white eyeliner to put on, trying to memorize every word in the Can’t Hardly Wait soundtrack and figuring out which bubble vest to wear to the Friday night football game.   I think that’s what I noticed the most about the Olympics this year.  I’m old.  17 year old Red, the snowboarding slopestyle gold medalist, said he slept in, lost his coat and then proceeded to drop the F-bomb on live television.  At first I was like, good grief kid, get yourself together but then I realized he’s half my age.  To my surprise, even the men’s curling team is younger than me.  I honestly thought they were all in their 40s, was that just me?  They all look like dudes who grill in the backyard every day with a beer attached to their hand and talk like Mike Ditka.

So the Olympics are over and I’m basically a walking bag of depression.   On top of that, my car died in the Chipotle parking lot which is a real kick in the mouth.  So if you’ve ever felt food shamed, hold my burrito.  When it rains it pours eh?   And while I am quite morose these past few days, I’m also riding on a bit of a high from the past few weeks.  The Olympics bring nations together, literally.  Seeing North and South Korea join as one was so powerful and beautiful I didn’t even care they lost their debut hockey game by 8 goals in a shutout.  It’s a culmination of hard work, passion and perfection.  These athletes make what would most likely kill me look easy and it brings the entire world together.  Even if it only lasts two weeks, I’ll take it.  Sometimes things aren’t meant to last forever.  You’ve got to seize the moments in your life that make you feel alive and invincible.  That make the rest of the world fade away.  That make life a little more magical and a little more bearable.  Embrace them while you’ve got them, revel in the smiles and hold on tight.  See you in two years, my love.  It was another gorgeous fortnight.  Until we meet again, ovua!