sitting on my couch, wishing I could still do a cartwheel.

I'm watching the women's gymnastics portion of the Olympics, not doing one single productive thing, using my Sunday night just the way God intended. Here are my random observations from the Olympics; a little live blogging to confirm I am - along with my little blog - still alive.

A and most importantly - George W. Bush is doing half-time COMMENTARY on the Olympics. Come on, now. I respect the Office if not the politics of the man who currently occupies it. Even so - is there anything LESS presidential than sitting in a commentator's chair, trying very hard not to twirl around while the camera is on you? (Throwing up on a diplomat at a state dinner, I suppose.) It's your job to make news, not comment on it. Surely you have advisors that could tell you that.

B. Why is it that commentators - those who do not hold any office described in the Constitution, I mean - are so negative? They just showed the world champion for floor exercises and all anyone said was, "She almost made a mistake." Really? You're watching a 16-year-old girl do something better than anyone else in the entire world, literally. You can't just say, "Dang that was COOL," and be done with it?

C. Speaking of 16-year-old Olympians - what is it like to peak out in your field before you are old enough to vote? How does that feel, to think the pinnacle of your life is over before your life has really gotten started? I can't imagine. SO glad my life won't be defined by what I did in high school. Though I won't ever be the best in the world at anything, either. So what do I know.

D. Melodramatic, God-bless-America, reach-for-the-stars sentiments designed to sell me beer or potato chips make me need to roll my eyes.

That's it. I'm off to brush my teeth and turn on the West Wing, guaranteeing that I will be asleep is 4 minutes. Sleep tight, everyone.