Ping Pong Diplomacy

Someone sent me a link to this brilliant piece of sports propaganda. Rapping in support of your team is a time honored tradition in this country. And now I see the trend has gone global. The Chinese National Table Tennis Team has done themselves, their sport, and Mao himself proud. This is much better than the Chicago Bears' Super Bowl Shuffle fiasco, and very catchy.

At the tender age of 11, I myself was the chief architect of a sports rap composed in support of my champion bowling team. We were the Rocking Pins of the Bowlero Bippies Youth league. Located across the street from Rollero, the Phoenix roller skating mecca that defined my youth, the league could not possibly have any other name. Anyway, when INXS ruled the earth my sister and I had a standing date with our teammates each Saturday. We came to dominate the league, and to celebrate our success and further intimidate future opponents, I wrote a rap. (Altogether now: of course you did.) Here is the little bit I can still remember, and I've probably mucked that up all the same. Just recite it to the stereotypical beat all lame mid-80s rap attempts are set to.

We are the Rockin' Pins
And we are here to say
Just step aside and watch us work
We'll beat your sucka team on any day

...blah, blah, blocked out from mind, blah...

We're rackin' up the toughest wins
With Jen, Mike, Dani, and Kris
Go on roll it out, I dare ya kids
We'll pick up the pins that your team will miss

Well, that's my embarrassing personal anecdote for the year. You're welcome.

The Holding Pattern

I'm a prodigious planner. So a lot of the major details of the wedding are taken care of already. Scratch that. Pretty much all of the biggies. Now it's down to the smaller touches, and prep for the big day. To that end, I am putting myself through a boot camp of sorts. No, not one of those personal trainer things. Although I am living on Lean Cuisines and stepping things up at the gym. This boot camp is designed solely to prevent me from becoming a blubbering idiot during the ceremony.

How does one reverse a lifetime of sappy crying? It's rough. I am known to automatically cry at long distance ads, pretty much any show that ever has a sentimental character situations set to a musical montage, the song Downtown by Petula Clark, the schlocky film Titanic, concerts, personal injury or illness, etc. Most embarrassing thing I have ever cried to? That candy bar commercial set to the Cass Elliott song "Make Your Own Kind of Music" with the guy who wears a bunch of the candy bars as a toupee, and no one can bear to tell him what a loser he is, and he lives in this ridiculous dream world and in that crushing 30 seconds, you see him start to realize all is not well with him and then break down in his car, so while you're glad he's living in a delusion and he's brave to walk around the way he wants, you're like yikes. Yeah, I'm pathetic.

To combat my addiction to sobbing, I've been listening to select songs that make me tear up or outright bawl on repeat in my car. The hope is that with repeated exposure, I will steel myself against their sentimental charms and avoid crying all over the place on the wedding day. I am proud to announce that I am now completely immune to the charms of Etta James' At Last. I dare you to play it. I will not get that goofy look on my face and a wet sparkle in my eye. Not that we were going to play that anyway, but still. I'm working on self-control in sentimental situations, and I think it's working out.

Another silly pre-wedding task is trying to secure my future e-mail address. I fully intend to change my name, you see, so reserving an address that makes sense and isn't too dorky is a priority. Unfortunately, Gmail would like me to take on the nom de plume of a dermatologic superhero alter-ego as seen below.

Kristen.****** is not available, but the following usernames are:
sharpright91
general.was.frequent7
quickserious4
clean.complexinator83

I do strive daily to earn a clear complexion-focused moniker, but I don't think that quite captures me. And while "sharpright" does evoke the essence of my speeding, "Fall Guy"-worthy driving style, that doesn't work either. Oh well - back to the drawing board.

Now if only Fergie and her handlers would succumb.

While knowing this makes me feel better, I don't exactly feel that it should be on CNN's homepage.

Sorry Piano Man fans, but my feud with Mr. Joel has been well established.