C'est La Vie!

I've been waiting four years for this and it became official this morning: London was awarded the 2012 Olympics. Now that the announcement has been made, the rest of my day will be a let down, so I might as well get it all out of my system.

This was a gigantic upset, so we're led to believe by media commentators that are apparently clueless. Paris was the front-runner throughout the entire competition and, early this morning, underdog New York City was kicked to the curb. Like I said, it might have been a shock, but I knew it was coming. In fact, I'm taking credit for single-handedly thwarting the French host effort. Want to learn how? Keep reading.

We were just in Paris this past spring and it was amazing how far those people were going to make a good impression. They put these "Paris 2012" signs everywhere, including landmarks like the Eiffel Tower [I felt it looked cheap, so all the pictures I took were on the other side of the tower. Here's one I took at night above]. Everything was lining up perfectly in their Olympic bid until the French got a little too big for their britches. We were ready to leave Israel on our Air France flight to spend a day in gay Paris [insert correct French pronunciation there]. Right before we were to leave Tel Aviv, the entire country of France decided to go on strike; not any individual company or union, mind you, but the whole nation. I guess the cost of living is out of control there and the people felt they needed to take a stand: by taking a few days off. So we were stuck in Jerusalem a few days until Air France finally got their act together and brought us to Paris. We were told we'd have hotel vouchers for a couple of days until they could get us back to the States.

Of course, when we arrived, Air France said they had no idea about any vouchers. We were stuck in the airport with nowhere to lay our head. It was ridiculous. Our group set up a mini-campground right in the middle of a terminal connection in Charles De Gaulle airport. It was late at night, we were exhausted from days of being redirected and I was getting a tad irritable. So while sitting with my back against a wall and my backpack on my lap I made the following statement:

"France sucks."

Now I didn't say it shout it out, but I'm sure those in the immediate vicinity heard me. It was a rather crowded airport, so you can't be entirely sure who caught my complaint. But this just happened to be the same weekend that the International Olympic Committee was visiting Paris to see if they would be the host site. Do you see the connection? As I uttered my lament about the vacuumonous tendencies of the French Republic, I guarantee that those IOC members walked past me. The judge from Belgium must have heard me and thought to himself, "Perhaps this red-headed American is right? Maybe France does indeed suck. I'm voting for the British." And that was the end of Paris' Olympic bid.

Just to make sure we understand each other, I'm not a person prone to proclaim racist statements; I actually abhor racism. But I don't think it counts with the French. And honestly, I only dislike them because of their hatred for America. I mean, we did save their butts in World War 2, bought Louisiana from them, and they still dislike us. As far as I'm concerned, what goes around comes around.

So congratulations England! You owe me one. A Manchester United jersey would be payment enough. Oh, and a piece of David Beckham's hair. It's the least you can do for what I did for you.