Yes, it's his humility, his manners, his game. His good looks. And I lived in Spain for a year and loved the country and still do and go back when I can. But really, it is a bittersweet love I have for Rafa and his compatriats. You see, when I lived in Spain I was seventeen years old, a tall blond girl, who got a lot of looks. I stuck out. It's a dark haired country, for the most part (just for the most part). Now, I was shy then. And self-conscious of being "American". This was a long ass time ago, and Spain was not the Spain it is now. It was very Catholic and conservative and just coming out of it's Franco years. And as an American girl, I was assumed to be a girl with loose morals, let's say. And it bothered me, that assumption. So, the whole damn time I lived there, I never even KISSED a Spanish guy. And let me tell you, OK, not every Spanish dude looks like Rafa, or Verdasco, or Feli Lopez, or Almagro, or Moya- or- well, you get me point though, right. There are A LOT of hot Spanish men. Like, it's a country FULL of hot dudes. Last time I was there in Madrid I saw this Spanish cop walk by, and like, I nearly fainted he was so fantastic looking. And his image is permanently burned into my brain. And he was just some cop! Cops in New York don't look like that! But anyway, I was a young girl, I could have gotten some serious Spanish lovin', but out of pride and "dignity", I did not.
What the hell was I thinking??!!! If you can't mess around when you're seventeen, when can you? I've been married for fifteen years and love my family- don't get me wrong- but MAN, did I pass up a once in a lifetime opportunity!!!! And I'm mad at my younger fearful self. And I watch all these beautiful specimens of humanity with a pretty intense longing. I wish I could be seventeen again. I'd do things differently. And then- I would still get married to my husband and still have my beautiful sons. And still long for Rafa and Nalbandian and Ferrer, but with more -satisfaction - and less regret.
AND BRAVO RAFA!!!!
Now Nalbandian is playing. I am in heaven. He is so hot in his tennis whites.
And David stunk in that first set. He played BADLY. I'm angry with him. Why, David? Why? Why are you sucking? Perhaps- you need me. David- psychically- I am with you. I am!
Well, I had a pillow over my head for a few minutes. Is it over? God. It is. Barf
Yours Truly,
Paula
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