Day one

It's off to the races. We got a bunch of stuff recorded today including Procter & Gamble presents "thanks mom".

I am reeling from jet lag. It feels like my head is in a vise.  The pizza I had for breakfast in the commissary at 3 AM Eastern time was very good.

it's been drizzly and getting cooler since I arrived.   Last night the cold winds poured down the mountains. Perhaps I was misguided packing two tubes of sunscreen.

Meanwhile, at the hotel, The service is like a Marx Brothers movie. The earnest young staff at this hotel apparently never have worked at a hotel. The place has only been open for about a week. And it shows.

I'm sure most of these kids got their jobs in part because they claimed to be fluent in English. I can tell you this, they certainly are not fluent in American.  They seem stunned when you speak a complete sentence.  Yesterday, frosted with jet lag, I left my room with my key card but forgot to take note of the room's number. When I returned, I asked the girl at the front desk if she tcould tell me my room number. I showed her my Olympic ID. She spent two minutes pecking at her computer with a furrowed brow. and then said "I can't find you". Then she turned away as though they was nothing more she could do.

Just trying to order a burger and fries in the hotel restaurant last night was a Bolshoi ballet of hilarity.

Everything I asked the waiter was met with a blank expression as though he were waiting for a translation through an earpiece.  I don't think he was wearing one, because things never got any better. No doubt he regaled the kitchen staff with tales of the idiot American out front.  Perhaps I should've made the slightest effort to learn some Russian and assimilate. I wouldn't consider myself an ugly American. But perhaps I would go as far as unattractive American.

But being the first guests does have its advantages. As Peter Steep pointed out, "We're the first people to sleep in these beds.  No bedbugs."  Which brings into question the level of accommodation he normally inhabits.

Looking forward to hitting a local restaurant tomorrow.  The only advice I've gotten about local dining places involves a wait of at least an hour for your food. I was also told to be sure and find a good Georgian place. This commissary is the only one I've seen at the Olympics with panoramic views. We can look out at Georgia while we eat our burgers. Thank you Russian Federation.

At work, it's the calm before the storm. When you're still delusional and believe that this won't be too tough and then the 12 hour days kick in and it is.  But I'll take this while I can get it.

So far the only thing I've learned to say in Russian is "I don't understand Russian."

Gotta run, Johnny Weir and I are going dancing.