Two hundo

Good morning! This is my 200th post. In the words of Ali G, "Boo-ya-ka-sha." I was up late last night trying to finish some more writing stuff, and finally turned off the light around 5am...an hour or so later, I heard Big Doug making his pained way down the stairs, and I figured, "Ok. Let's give up the dream of sleeping, and just get this party started." Let me just say...Lil' Miss Dana K. is going to need a whopping shit-ton of caffeine to make it through the day.

Here's where it gets tricky: tonight is ice-dancing at the Olympics. NBC is doing a wonderful job promoting it-- the current promo shows the American pairs in hilarious-but-fairly-gorgeous costumes, with these impassioned expressions on their faces, moving in graceful slow-motion, and the piece de resistance? Lady Gaga is playing in the background. Oh, it is heaven. NBC has been screwing the pooch with a lot of their coverage, I feel, but this ice dancing commercial is priceless. It almost makes Bob Costas' waxy, wrinkle-free face somehow less frightening. Almost.

So, anyway, my Olympic fever is still burning, and last night was particularly fantastic. The American women half-pipe riders clinched 2nd and 3rd place (behind an Aussie-- good job, Aus!), Shani Davis received his gold medal (he is g-g-g-gorgeous...I cannot wait until he gets some awesome endorsement campaign in which a lot of beautiful photos of him are taken and placed in glossy magazines), the primetime audience saw Julia Mancuso get her second gold medal (this time in the Super Combined), and then the high-stakes center ring event got going: the men's free skate.

Like I said, I was lured into the Twitterverse, and I was able to volley snarky comments back and forth with my friend John-- it was probably the most fun I've ever had while sitting in a recliner. Hilarity. And then, to top it all off, our wonderful American skater was able to dethrone the reigning Olympic champion. Evan Lysacek really pulled off a great performance, and he was able to beat Evgeny Plushenko really based on execution and artistry. Plushenko's free skate had harder jump-combinations, one of which included a quad, but it wasn't fun to watch. (Plushenko is under the misguided notion that he is a sex symbol. Misguided.) Lysacek was pretty much flawless, and it was wonderful to watch. Also, Johnny Weir f-ing BROUGHT IT. He was totally robbed by the judges, and the crowd booed, and he stood up and did the whole "keep it down" gesture, and then smiled and waved. I like the grace he showed-- it sort of runs counter to his general persona, but it was grace nonetheless. Anyway-- Lysacek's win made for great TV, and a great all-around Olympics moment.

So, it's 7:30. I don't have to be at work until 10, and it takes me about 25 minutes to get there. I have 2 hours until I have to leave. Is this what it feels like for a morning person? Wow. I need to get on this bandwagon. I love that saying about the Army [I think]: they get more done before 9am than you'll do in your entire day. It would be pretty fun to be that effective early in the morning. For some reason, I have an OK time getting up at the very early hours-- like 5:30. It's the more average wake-up times that I have trouble with-- the 7:30s and 8:00s. If you've been reading this blog since its inception, you may remember the entries I wrote between day 5 after my surgery through maybe the 2-week mark. A lot of them were written very early in the morning, like 4:45, 5am. Even though the circumstances for being awake that early (searing post-surgical pain) were pretty shitty, it was nice being the first one up. I loved that when everyone else finally emerged from their cocoons, I was up, in clean fat-kid pants, fully medicated, and had probably made a pot of coffee and wrote for an hour or two. Eventually, I went back to my old habits-- staying up very very late, and waking up very very late. I think my goal for Lent this year, even if I think the rite is totally ridiculous, will be to become an early riser.

Then again, this may just be the ramblings of someone who couldn't fall asleep and has had a little too much jet-fuel-strength coffee. Yep. That's pretty likely.