>Schadenfreude

>After four long years of waiting, the moment is almost upon us. Next week, the best female figure skaters in the world will compete for the gold medal. And I am about to pee my pants with excitement.

I’ve tuned in and out of the other Winter Olympics events. But women’s figure skating… Well, I’ve already informed my husband that both the short and long programs are Must See TV.

“Yeah, okay,” he said lightly. “Whatever.”

I couldn’t blame him. Although I talk the talk when it comes to television viewing, I rarely actually watch the shows I claim to love most. But this. This was different.

“Hubs, I’m serious,” I said. “Nothing can make me miss women’s figure skating. It’s like… It’s like a USC game.”

Hubs’ face sobered. For him, USC games are a near religious experience. Missing one would be almost as bad as missing your own wedding. “I understand,” he said with a somber nod. “But why don’t you watch figure skating the rest of the year? It’s on all the time.”

“Pfft,” I said dismissively. “Child’s play. I mean, I like the World Championships,” I qualified, “But most of the other stuff is just exhibition skating. There has to be competition involved for me to watch. And…” I hesitated, embarrassed.

“And what?”

“And falling,” I finished lamely.

“Ohhhhh,” Hubs said. “Schadenfreude.”

“The what?”

“Schadenfreude,” he repeated. “It’s German for secretly taking pleasure in others’ misfortune.”

I wanted to deny it, but there was some truth to his diagnosis. The excitement, the anxiety, the hot flashes I feel when I watch Sasha Cohen or especially that damned Irina Slutskaya skate are totally based on whether they will fall. In front of the judges. In front of the the audience. In front of the world.

Yep. Schadenfreude.

I’m not entirely heartless. When a beautiful skater ruins her makeup crying beside her coach afterward, I cry with her. I feel her pain. And when one of the girls skates beautifully and flawlessly, I cry too. Tears of sheer sentimentality. But oh man, I loves me some schadenfreude.

I should warn you that my schadenfreude doesn’t cross genders. When a man falls while figure skating, he just gets pissy. I have never had any patience for a pissy man. No, only a woman can be depended on to give us a few choked sobs, a little bit o’ fist-biting, and in my favorite schadenfreude episode ever, the famous Face-That-Has-Sucked-a-Thousand-Lemons.

I realize that Tonya Harding is probably a once-in-a-lifetime occurance. But I don’t know…. Sasha Cohen has been giving that little upstart Emily Hughes some pretty bitchy looks lately. Whatever the case, next Tuesday and Thursday nights, you know where I’ll be. In front of the television, Kleenexes handy, schadenfreuding my way to the Gold.