okay, so there's no point to beat around the bush: i've been absent. i didn't even think about posting anything in july, despite a few post-worthy moments (ie: 4th of july dog outfits). however, for the last week i have a really good excuse.
THE OLYMPICS!
i'm completely obsessed with the olympics. i've always loved them, but i realized during the last winter olympics that i can't get enough of these international competitions. the butterflies i was having and the tears i was shedding were evidence enough for me: i'm a goner.
this year i've successfully developed what i like to call my olympics eye bags, but i know they'll be gone in another week or so. it'll be worth it since i'll have 2 years to put concealer on my eye baggies before the next winter games.
anyways, as a hardcore phelps fan (bong or not), i was extremely excited about seeing his beautifully awkward self again. if you want an update on how he did, feel free to google him. or pick up the paper. or turn on the radio/tv/internet. he's everywhere.
but whenever i got a glimpse of precious mikey, there was this annoying little gnat hanging around. it was like that third-wheel kid sister who keeps saying "look at me, look at me!" in that obnoxious whine (i know because i'm still that sister). and that gnat is named lochte.
now don't get me wrong. i'm sure he has a beautiful soul (shout out to jesse mccartney!) and spends his free time packaging materials for operation christmas child. and i, by no means, am one to point fingers considering i myself felt super awesome for donating ONE DOLLAR to some group outside of walmart today. i'm no mother theresa, after all.
but my goodness ... every time he was interviewed all i heard was "wahhhhh pay attention to me! i have green shoes! no one knows how good i am but i trained harder than michael!" i'm sure he said other things, but it's like the translation was messed up.
don't get me wrong. he's a beautiful man (rather stunning to look at if we're being honest) and he's a beyond talented swimmer.
and phelpsy-poo? he's no saint either. but i only have room in my life for one swimmer tool. and my heart belongs to mikey.
for 10 reasons that perfectly sum up how i was feeling, check out this hysterical article: 10 reasons why ryan lochte is america's sexiest douchebag.
