Mardi Gras

I told Anna yesterday that it was starting to look like Grand Rapids outside. Usually I don't have a problem with snow, but I'm getting sick of having to clear it off the sidewalks every day so the old people can go do whatever stuff old people do.
The snow was bad enough on Monday that Anna's dad actually stayed home from work. It seems like it was probably a wise choice because it would seem that everyone else in that area ended up wrecked or stuck.
I've been watching the Olympics whenever I get the opportunity. Since I only get to see most of the sports once every four years, I don't really know that much about them, and I am occasionally surprised by certain elements. For example, I had no idea that ski jumping required judges to give "style" points. Why on earth would ski jumping need style points? Isn't the whole point just to see who can jump the farthest?
I don't know how to feel about certain sports. There are elements that I find really exciting, but they also seem equally frustrating. Short track speed skating and snowboard cross are perfect examples. Did anyone watch Ohno and that other U.S. guy win silver and bronze in the first short track distance? If you did, you know that the only reason they medaled was because one of the Koreans in front of them took out one of his own teammates. How would you feel if you won a medal only because someone fell and took out another person on his way down? Snowboard cross is very similar. It just depresses me that it's so easy for the results to be determined by someone getting in another person's way.
Anyone else think Dick Button just seems like a cranky old man?
There are certain sports that I cannot watch at all. In the Olympics (Summer and Winter), those sports include hockey and tennis. I can watch curling, badminton, or whatever. But hockey and tennis bore the pants off of me. The thing is, even I don't really know why I can't stand hockey. It seems like the perfect man sport. It's fast and violent. Teeth get knocked out and blood gets spilled. And I can't watch more than a minute of it without falling asleep.
Our furnace quit yesterday. The repairman came today and fixed it. Daisy hid in her bed while he was here. She didn't even come out after he left.
Living Sacrifice is in Indy tomorrow. I hope the roads are decent enough to travel.
Have a merry third day of the week dedicated to consuming everything tasty before you start depriving yourself of everything tasty for the next several weeks.
I am going to be honest here for a second and say that whenever I hear about people giving up things for Lent the first thought that pops into my head is "sucka!"
I guess this means that tomorrow everyone will be walking around Calvin's campus with a cross of ash on his or her forehead. I never pay attention to Lent or Ash Wednesday, so it always threw me off when the first person walked into class with a dirty forehead.
Having the Olympics in Canada means we have to keep hearing all this insufferable propaganda from celebrities about how great Canada is. As someone so succinctly tweeted, "Finding out a celebrity is Canadian is like finding out your girlfriend used to be a dude." I was thinking it was more along the lines of finding out you are adopted, but that works too.
Anyone else think it's strange that the men's and women's luge starting points are different? I, for example, understand having a women's tee in golf because most women simply can't hit the ball as far. So what are you trying to say? Women can't slide down a hill as far? I'm pretty sure gravity keeps working, regardless of gender.
I realize this is disgusting, and if you are easily disgusted, skip over to the next paragraph. Tonight, my farts smell like tacos. There's a distinctly cumin aroma.
The ignitor blew out on our furnace. The repairman showed me the old one, and I guess it's just like a giant toaster coil, designed to ignite the gas in the furnace. Apparently, they last five to seven years. This means that I am about to have a whole wave of furnace failures.
People who read this blog: Colorado Springsians
There are two people who keep reading this blog from Colorado Springs (well, one shows up as being from Fountain, but if you know the area then you know it's essentially Colorado Springs). I'm not sure who these people are, though I'm guessing I do actually know them. I don't think they are family members because Kirsten is allergic to technology, Christopher is allergic to caring about anything, and my parents (hopefully) don't know this blog exists. Mostly, I'm just can't really think of anyone still in the Springs who cares enough about my life to make the effort to see what I'm up doing. Identify yourselves, you creepers you. Show me your hands. Now get out of the car and lie face down on the ground. Hands behind your back. Do it now. (You really did it didn't you?)