My mission, should I chose to accept it (I did), began on Thursday. I'm not sure if they want me to be a reporter for the Olympic Winter Games (get it straight, its NOT the Winter Olympic Games, per the IOC!!) or an international spy. Upon arrival, each of us were issued a multi-piece uniform, a new cell phone, a new e-mail address, a hefty pre-paid Visa check card and a rental car. I haven't seen people grub for this much swag since the kids from the Jersey Shore were invited backstage at the Grammy's. It was Christmas morning in the corridors of the IOC. Grown men were stripping their pants off to try on their new digs. Others played with their new Samsung phones with the flip out keyboard like the Fresh Prince playing with Uncle Phil's car phone. I think I saw someone do a cartwheel upon learning the sum of money on the check card... we were kids again. Smurf kids, mind you... for the next 25 days straight, I will be wearing the following:
- black pants of my chosing (thank god, the issued corduroy ones didn't fit, so I got a pass.. cords - ew!)
- 2 long sleeved pull over shirts
- 1 Smurf blue shell with official-looking "Host Broadcaster" written on the back
- a similar blue winter coat with, literally 8 thousand pockets, I counted
- knit hat
- fleece gloves
- a book bag fit for a mountain expedition
I'm really restricted on what I'm allowed to show online prior to the games for security purposes, but here's just a little glance at the jacket. Just call me Smurfette.
*** Note the awesomeness of my Best Western bathroom... yea, I have a pull out micro mirror. They don't cheap out at the B Dub. ***
Oh, and my badge... never ever, ever leave home without it. It allows me access to ANY Olympic Venue, any competition, free public transportation and pretty much ensures VIP access in any club. Kidding about the last part... no bottle service for me, I'm here to work!!!!
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