People- I am watching tennis. I am watching Montanes and Gulbis. Very tight first set here. A quick digression though-- How awful was it to watch Moya get beat so badly. It was unbearable for me. Just awful. And the commenters called it! They said before the match started, "Moya may embarrass himself out there". My God they were so right. I looked away a lot. I worry because he broke Pennetta's heart, he is now cursed. Because it's not nice to break anyone's heart, but especially someone as cute and wonderful seeming as Pennetta. They kept showing his model girlfriend in the audience. Yeah, she's "beautiful"- but she's no Pennetta. She doesn't exude the same charm and fun lovingness as Pennetta. I bet Pennetta is more fun in bed. I bet the model just lies there, going "worship my perfect body" whereas Pennetta was more like, jumping all over the place, trying out new stuff, always eager and energetic. And now, because Moya stupidly left her for the model, he's not getting as well laid as he should, and so now he sucks at tennis. Wow, the thought of Moya having sex just really got to me and I think I have to take a little break here and calm down.
I'll be back.
Gulbis won the first set. He's playing so well. I sort of feel for Montanes though, as he is the underdog here despite being a true dirtballer. Anyway, it's not over. I guess today I'm sort of rooting for the underdog, which happens a lot with me. You see, I am an underdog of life. So, I just relate I guess. For instance, before spending the entire day sitting around, trying to get men to chat with me and watching tennis and having chicken sandwiches delivered to me from the Vietnamese Restaurant and possibly getting stoned on my allergy medicine and later I'm thinking gin and tonics even if it is a little chilly because they get me fucked up faster than wine, I decided to go on a run at the gym. I ate a cliff bar- it went down really well, which is great, because sometimes they make me gag--chugged some coconut water and water water, and went to the gym and mounted a treadmill. I, unlike Rick Rock, love the treadmill -- usually. I like staring at nothing or a hockey game and I crank my mp3 player really loud and mouth the words and occasionally do a little dance and don't give a shit that I look wierd, because I'm just into my thing and enjoying our brief time here on this planet. But the treadmill was like Gulbis today, and I was like Montanes, the underdog, fighting away to not lose and even though, like Montanes, I fought valiantly (he's down 0/3 here and looking kind of hangdoggy, poor guy, I think he's really hot with his sort of bucked teeth and his swarthy good looks, he totally reminds me of Freddie Mercury and I love Freddie Mercury and I just broke out into "We Are The Champions" in my mind and now I'm smiling, oh shit, this is so awesome, life, tennis, Freddie Mercury), the treadmill was winning from the very beginning. I started my jog and immediately felt horrible. This is not uncommon. My knee, then my shin, then my hips, everything fucking ached. But, like Montanes, I kept fighting. Soon, I felt like, whoah, I'm breathing hard, am I going to die? I often feel this way when I exersize. So then I said, well, I'll slow it down. (That would be like the treadmill winning the first set.) So I did. That helped with the "fear of death by heart attack" that was in my brain. So then I felt a little better, starting mouthing the words all happy-like, and I said, man, if I don't feel better, I'll just stop at a mile. Nothing wrong with that. Then, that made me happier, so I kept going. Then, I said, well, why not run two? I can quit at two, nothing wrong with that. This made me so happy. At two miles, I said, well, maybe two and half. And that made me so happy (always happy feelings comes over me when I think of stopping running soon) that I turned up the speed and anyway, I ran three and half and I didn't get to four or five because, then, like Gulbis, the treadmill kicked my ass and I started coughing some and thought I was going to have a massive allergy attack which has been happening a lot lately so I panicked and ended my run, losing to the treadmill. Sigh.
Montanes is going for some treatment and really breaking up the rhythm. I'm fast forwarding. OK, this is now not fun to watch. Montanes can't move well. He's down 4/1. You know, I watch a lot of tennis, but sometimes it makes me uncomfortable and sad. That's why fast forward is so good. It can make some of the painful bits go away. I like Gulbis, by the way. I just- I'm feeling sensitive. Maybe that's because of my own defeat today. You know what I like about Gulbis? He's a billionare and yet, he works hard and is a success at tennis! Dude, if I was a billionare, I would be on a yacht, getting really fucked up, and cruising around the Greek Islands with a handful of boy toys and some slaves, or staff, or whatever. I would not be working hard at anything. Or so I think. I may never find out what I would really do if I were a billionare. Sigh.
Aw, Montanes lost like me. 6/1 in the second. Now Baghdatis is beating Chiundelli. This is OK by me. The Bag has really struggled. So this is good.
Yours Truly,
Paula
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