THE ROUND OF SIXTEEN IS COMING UPON US

The best round of tennis. The perfect amount of tennis for one day of tennis watching. People fighting to get into the second week.

Right now, it's still the third round. But soon enough.

Ferrer and Chardy -- now these are two very attractive tennis players. Ferrer- whom I have walked by in Canada repeatedly, and seen play Nalbandian from front row seats in Canada as well--is a little hottie. I'd probably feel like an East German Discus player if I were lying around in bed with him, because he's a couple inches shorter than me and not thick, either, but I think I could get over it, especially if he made an effort to make me feel comfortable while we lie next to each other in clean, white hotel sheets, the sun falling gently on our naked bodies, saying things like "you don't actually look like an East German discus thrower", but he'd say it in Spanish and that would be really hot, because I speak some Spanish and understand it well, too, but he'd have to speak a little slowly, and he would, because he's so sweet and considerate, because sometimes people speak Spanish really fast and I have problems understanding.

Whoah. I love Azarenka's dress.

Then there in Chardy. Now, he is only 23, which in my mind is different than 27, and this is a hurtle I CAN get over, and do get over, for instance, in the cases of say, Nadal or Gasquet. Because at 23, I could very well be his, um, mother. And this disturbs me. But then I think of things like, I don't know, Harold and Maude, or the story of a friend of mine's mother who nailed their pool boy when she was growing up. So, you see, these things happen. And if it happened with Chardy, that would be very, very nice. He's tall, French, with supermodel good looks- which actually isn't my thing, I'm not a huge pretty boy lover, but I make exceptions for some pretty boys, like Feli Lopez, whe actually is getting a little more mature and rough around the edges, which is awesome, and we think it has to do with his older woman girlfriend, who is pregnant or something and they're having problems--and French men are renowned lovers and do wierd things, like have older women lovers and that's considered natural and good for the young man, because the older woman can teach the young man the ways of a woman's body.

I think Ferrer may cruise rather easily here. Chardy is not known for his mental toughness.

Sigh. Way too many ads here. I sort of hate ESPN, even though I'm very sad that the ESPN bars shut down because I never went and I heard they were awesome. Why don't they show tennis? Why must they show Hannah Storm, mindnumbingly high on oxycontin or some other designer drug that I have not had the great pleasure of trying?

More soon.

Yours Truly,

Paula

THE SEMI-FINALS OF MONTE CARLO AND THE RETURN OF RICK ROCK

PEOPLE. Rick Rock returned at 8am and everyone is much better off for it. Even the cats. For instance, the cat food can get full of ants and sometimes I take care of the situation, but sometimes I do not, pretending that it doesn't matter. Rick Rock - he'll help out with things like that. Aaaaahhh. A helper. I love help. I'm going to try to get him to blog, too. That would mean a tiny break from the "I want to have sex with tennis players and man, I feel hungover" meme that I work very hard to adhere to because of it's deep importance to the understanding of sports in our nation. Aw, he just brought me a cup of tea. I feel so grateful.

Ferrer is losing. I once saw him beat Nadal at the US Open. But that was not clay. Rafa and clay is like shrimp and cocktail sauce or a burger and a coke, or vodka and cigarettes, or bourbon and cigarettes, or martinis and oysters, or brandy and chocolate cake. Wow. I just got inspired for going out to dinner. I slept until 1pm today, so I'm not tired enough yet to have a "tennis nap". I'll try to get into this match. Sometimes, at the end of events- the final four and the final-I feel bereft and detached, like I can't maintain the initial love and frenzy I felt at the beginning of the week, when I had ten hours of tennis every day. Other times, I savor the last moments like a fine cognac, or even a decent bourbon, or like, a perfect martini, or -shit-a Coors tallboy with a straw stuck down it.

OK. It's 2 all in the second. Perhaps something exciting will happen (that would mean something like Ferrer starts getting ahead, or, like, jumps out of the TV and into my lap.)

Yours truly,

Paula

Ferrer Beats Gonzo in Barcelona - Nice!

RR here -

Wow, nice match! A giant battle between those two. We have a soft spot for Barcelona, having met there! During a year in high school. Never made it to the tennis club though - I didn't, like, know about tennis! A regret. We belonged to a gym, at which I mainly played pool. Not really a gym thing I know. And drank beer. At the gym. As well as other places. And some hash was smoked. Whoops, we're talking about tennis!

Ferrer looked out after the first set but he battled back - a fierce, tight match. Maybe Ferrer had a little home court advantage. He yelled "puta!" a lot, and some other things.

I thought Davy was impressive to but, not enough against Rafa. I had no idea he had won this event the last 4 years. We want to go, but the timing is not good! Not aligned with the school vacations. Some day.

That was a fun match. Gonzo is always fun to watch - and Ferrer is a pit bull. I'm a little tired. We kicked off the Hancock, NY outdoor season today. Sun, wind and gnats.

Er, bedtime - singing out, RR

I WATCHED TENNIS LAST NIGHT!

But I was a bit drankenstein to post properly. And I had a friend over, who doesn't, um, blog. So I didn't want to be like, hey, I'm just going to open up the computer and write stuff and ignore you, OK? I didn't want to do that.

I had a nice time watching Djokovic beat Simon, although I wanted Simon to win. But it was good tennis. Then, I watched Ferrer dismantle- gosh, that's such a fancy sports tennisy word to use, so appropriate, I can't believe I used it--poor Gasquet. Then I watched Monfils and Acasuso in SOUTH AMERICA- I love South America- but I don't recall the end. Rick Rock full on slept on the couch, so he really doesn't remember. I was smashed and hanging out on the internet, so distracted and well, not sober. It is possible I shut the TV off before the match was over.

Also, I have massive bruise on my triceps, or upper arms, because last thursday, I worked really intensely on these yoga moves, the crow and the side crow. Basically, you balance on your hands and lean your entire body by way of your upper legs, onto your upper arms. It's hard! And cool. Also, I had taken an aspirin and so my blood was thinned which makes you bruise much worse. And I was going to bruise anyway, because I was working hard at it, people. Anywho- I didn't think about it or notice it until AFTER my tennis lesson yesterday. Now, mostly, I am on the opposite side of the court, hitting groundies and so forth. But I worked on my serve with my lovely amazing tennis pro Chris and then, we were, like, standing right next to each other. And he probably noticed the back of my arms covered with bruises. And like, thought, whoooah. What happened to her? If I had known about them, I woulda worn a long sleeve shirt, man. So, next week, I'm going to say, Chris, I was doing side crow!!!! And then I might show him. Or at least really explain. He knows I do yoga. I tried to explain a forearm stand to him once. Anyway, I am sort of embarrassed. But like, not embarrassed enough to call him or anything! I think that would make the whole thing even wierder. Sigh. So I have to wait a week before I can clear this up.

Right now, I am watching Korolev and Rochus in Delray Beach. I am not so involved. I am looking forward to the Mexicali later....Ahhh...(It's really Central America, as Rick Rock pointed out, and he is correct. I love Mexico and all those countries underneath it. How's that?)

Yours Truly,
Paula