My Ancestral Awakening (Don't Tell Colossus!)

Fraulein Sue,

I have had an ancestral awakening. I have never been so proud of the fact that my last name ends in two - not one, but TWO - "n"'s. For real. I feel connected to my German heritage for the first time since being forced to act excited about it for "Ethnicity Day" in fourth grade.

Let me explain.

The BF and I needed to leave the country so I could come back in and validate my student visa. The perfect excuse for a Munich mini-break, no?

Mind you, I was not particularly interested in going to Germany. I had never been that enthused about my German roots. The language gets caught in your throat, the people seem a bit harsh and overly brawny, and the beer-guzzling is so not conducive to looking hot in a wedding dress. But seeing as we are only a two-hour jetlagless flight away from my ancestral home, there was really no excuse.

I have no idea where in Germany my family is actually from, but I have hereby embraced Munich as the land of my forefathers. What a great town! 

The glockenspiel! 

Underwhelming and overrated, yet nevertheless endearing!

The dirndls! 

I am set for slutty - I mean, traditional - Halloween costumes for life!

The weisswursts! 

I was in hog heaven (literally). 

Also? My new obsession now that the Olympics are over: Hofbrauhaus. Beers and pretzels as big as your head. Definitely not Colossus-sanctioned but a to the mazing. Not to mention the effortlessly fabulosity-oozing locals:

I am desperately hoping this man is my long-lost great-uncle.

My new affinity for my native culture does not mean we will be giving away beer steins as wedding favors, nor will the dress code be changed to "Lederhosen Chic." But still. I am thrilled to have discovered that I do feel connected to my beer-guzzling, big-boned ethnic roots after all.

Auf Wiedersehen,

Fraulein Jen

A Michael Moment

Sigh. Just - sigh...

Fabulous cover shot courtesy of Sports Illustrated and - in poster size! - Fine Art Limited

Ah yes, now that's what I'm talkin' about!

Sue, please do not bring poor, sweet, innocent, Alltime Olympian Michael Phelps into your discussions about sex toys. Until they make one in his likeness, that is.

Also, is it me or is he not wearing pants in this photo? AMAZING. Maybe I should order one of these posters for my dorm room?

(Yes, you heard me correctly: dorm room. But that's fodder for another post... especially since I'm still in denial about the fact that I will be sharing a kitchen with my fellow nerdy grad students in less than a month! Ack!)

Love,

Jen

Who is the Smokingest Olympic Hottie?

Dear Sue,

This is rather a sad day, no? The Olympics are ending, which means it will be four more looong years before we are once again able to so easily gaze upon the vast torso of Michael Phelps. Sigh.

Indeed, the only thing bringing me comfort and solace today is anticipating the improvements in television technology - I mean HD is so great, imagine how crisp the swimmers' abs will be in four years! That, and the fact that I will finally be able to get a full night's sleep again. Are you as Olympically sleep-deprived as I am?

Before we bid the games a final adieu, I would like to ask you and our fabulous readers a very important question:

Who is the smokingest of the Olympic hotties?

For your consideration, I obviously must submit Michael Phelps. While he may not be classically handsome, he is humble, well-spoken, and an overall cutie patootie.

But I must also nominate Ryan Lochte (next to Phelps up there) for our Smokingest Olympic Hottie Award (or SOHA, obv). 

I also think that other guy with the bare chest should be considered (sorry, Unisuit Guy, but we can't include everyone).

I'm not sure who else has been generating hottie buzz in the US, but here in the UK there are these two hunky rowers who are bringing bling back to Britain, Mark Hunter and Zac Purchase:

Who else are we feelin', ladies? Or has Michael Phelps just swum away with all of our hearts? Who will bring home the SOHA?

Sue, eager to hear your thoughts. Gals, leave your votes in our comments section! 

Adieu,

Jen

5 Reasons to Marry Michael Phelps

Sue,

You and I may be happily off the market, but for all the Domestic Divas and Domestic Bachelorettes oozing fabulosity out there in the blogosphere, I have a proposition. Nay, a plea.

Please, please, one of you - find, date, and marry Michael Phelps!

Watching the Beijing Olympics has been inspiring and moving on many levels. Perhaps chief among them is witnessing the Olympic idol that is Michael Phelps, and daydreaming about eating Nutella off his torso.

Sigh.

Ok, so his ears stick out a bit and apparently he's a little awkward on land due to his innate fishiness, but here are the five reasons that he is super dreamy Olympic husband material:

5. Considering his penchant for gold medals, he clearly appreciates bling. Bodes well for an engagement ring, wedding band, and assorted anniversary gifts, no?

4. And hello endorsements! This guy will be rollin' in the dough after these Olympics. Snag him now, so he'll know to put some of that money away for your Ring of Dreams. And what a ring it will be! (See reason 5 above.)

3. How cute is he with his mom and sisters in the stands? Beware of his mama's boy potential, of course, but he clearly appreciates fabulous women.

2. One (aforementioned) word: torso.

and the Number One reason to marry Michael Phleps:

1. He is the greatest swimmer and Olympian of all time, and truly seems like a nice guy to boot. Need I say more?

Get on it, ladies! And please keep us posted on the conquest. I'll supply the Nutella.

xoxo,

Jen

Olympic Hormones?

DP,

WHAT is my problem?!  I mean it was one thing to get teary watching that cute octogenarian lesbian couple tying the knot in San Fran a couple months ago.  But I just flipped on the Olympic Opening Ceremony while I eat my sushi for lunch, and I seriously almost choked on my salmon nigri.

I don't know what it is!  It's gotta be more than the whole ring theme, right?  I suppose it's just the thought that these athletes who are parading around are the best in the world at what they do - which is phenomenal enough in itself.  And also that their entire lives have led up to this moment, to these games.  Huh.  Uh-oh... as much as I would like to believe that not everything in my life makes me think about my wedding, the idea of one's life leading up to one big event... uy yuy yuy.  This is getting embarrassing.

Speaking of embarrassing, this is why I heart the BBC:

You know I could not be less into politics, but I must describe this a to the mazing moment that just occurred.  So all the teams are coming out one by one, being announced, waving to the crowd, etc.

Then Iraq comes out - with only about six athletes - and the crowd goes wild. Like, bananas, cheering.  While the announcers are talking about the "challenges" these athletes have had to "overcome" to get to the Games, the camera cuts to W and Laura sitting in the stands, awkward grins and blank stares plastered to their faces.  GENIUS.

Anyway.  I should probably turn this off before the Americans make their entrance.  I might lose it, and we're having company over for dinner tonight so I really can't have puffy bags under my eyes.

Have a great weekend, hot stuff!

xo

DG