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Aug. 29th, 2007 10:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
clo_againLook universe, just- no. It's not on. Women that cheerful should not call this early asking for the father, then after I say he's out proceed to explain to me, me-who-just-rolled-out-of-bed-to-answer-your-damn-call, what they want. It's not fair. I was up until 4am to watch Andy's match (worth it!) and as you well know, the current personal rule is "out of bed, you are awake for the day." I cannot be expected to hold sensible, civilised conversations with obnoxiously cheerful women (obnoxious because it pains those of us who're never that cheerful so early) on six hours sleep and then not get to go back to bed.
Universe is a bastard. Not amused. And sleepy.
On the plus side, Andy! Was worth the sleep deprivation to see the funny exchange in the second set, because Andy laughing on court is adorable and doesn't happen often enough. He all lights up and looks about ten years younger. I'm sad our coverage ended before they "interview[ed] each other on court after the match, with a self-deprecating Gimelstob turning it into an extended comedy routine. The two even sat for a joint press conference, which proved as diverting as the match" though. I would've given up the rest of last night's sleep to watch that.
Joint press conferences are genius; the amount of fist fights on tour would go through the roof. I love it. Add it to the list of Things We Will Do to Tennis When We Conquer the World.
Final tennis-related thought: Arnaud Clement was playing in sunglasses yesterday. Sunglasses. I'm not sure I've seen anyone do that before.
Life news is the same-old, same-old. Spent around £20 on getting pictures printed yesterday, both digital and disposable camera. Got to go back and pick them up later. Sigh. Then again, my picture of John Barrowman's in there too; I'd pay £20 just for a print of that. And then, partly because I can't find Jurassic Park in Woolies despite repeated attempts (is reportedly £3. Dammit) and partly because the GTA games have always been my favoured form of de-stressing, ordered GTA: Vice City off play for a fiver. I'm trying to replay through III without cheating (okay, without major cheating. I'm using the health cheat, especially when I do something stupid but the big ones like the money and the guns and the lower wanted level, off-limits.) I've already learned new things, like when you pause beside a prostitute, even if it's accidental and you're concentrating on some mob job, she'll get in the car and your money will tick down until you get out. It might've raised interesting questions if the 'rents had heard me shriek "Get out my car you skanky ho!"
Also, some of the newspapers blowing around in the wind read "ZOMBIE ELVIS FOUND." I laughed myself into driving off a cliff.
Must get showered and dressed. Must not go back to sleep. Must not think about sleep. Sleeeeeeeep. Ngh.
Universe is a bastard. Not amused. And sleepy.
On the plus side, Andy! Was worth the sleep deprivation to see the funny exchange in the second set, because Andy laughing on court is adorable and doesn't happen often enough. He all lights up and looks about ten years younger. I'm sad our coverage ended before they "interview[ed] each other on court after the match, with a self-deprecating Gimelstob turning it into an extended comedy routine. The two even sat for a joint press conference, which proved as diverting as the match" though. I would've given up the rest of last night's sleep to watch that.
Joint press conferences are genius; the amount of fist fights on tour would go through the roof. I love it. Add it to the list of Things We Will Do to Tennis When We Conquer the World.
Final tennis-related thought: Arnaud Clement was playing in sunglasses yesterday. Sunglasses. I'm not sure I've seen anyone do that before.
Life news is the same-old, same-old. Spent around £20 on getting pictures printed yesterday, both digital and disposable camera. Got to go back and pick them up later. Sigh. Then again, my picture of John Barrowman's in there too; I'd pay £20 just for a print of that. And then, partly because I can't find Jurassic Park in Woolies despite repeated attempts (is reportedly £3. Dammit) and partly because the GTA games have always been my favoured form of de-stressing, ordered GTA: Vice City off play for a fiver. I'm trying to replay through III without cheating (okay, without major cheating. I'm using the health cheat, especially when I do something stupid but the big ones like the money and the guns and the lower wanted level, off-limits.) I've already learned new things, like when you pause beside a prostitute, even if it's accidental and you're concentrating on some mob job, she'll get in the car and your money will tick down until you get out. It might've raised interesting questions if the 'rents had heard me shriek "Get out my car you skanky ho!"
Also, some of the newspapers blowing around in the wind read "ZOMBIE ELVIS FOUND." I laughed myself into driving off a cliff.
Must get showered and dressed. Must not go back to sleep. Must not think about sleep. Sleeeeeeeep. Ngh.
