Gilles Simon is the name of my boyfriend.
written: 10:15 p.m. on Saturday, Nov. 15, 2008

I've also decided that out of all the ATP players I've seen to date, the one I most want to have as a boyfriend is Gilles Simon. He's soooo fucking pretty, it hurts. He's so damn pretty that he's STILL pretty even after I saw a picture of him picking his nose (like, really deep!). He looks really hot when he's all intense and frowning when playing a match, especially when he's losing and all flustered. His face becomes all red, and if the word 'cherub' were to be personified, it would look like Gilles Simon.

He is, however, too damn skinny. He needs to eat more. His legs are like, toothpicks, or chicken legs, and he's like, 65 kilos?! 180cm and 65 kilos is tragic. I don't get it. He's French. The French have wonderful, wonderful pastries, like the wonderful eclair Mag and I ate on our last day in Paris, so he really has no excuse...unless he doesn't like sweet stuff, in which case he's just weird.

But no matter! I want him. NOW. I'm sad he lost to Djoker but I'm glad Djoker win, so...and Djoker's girlfriend is damn pretty. But she - and Murray's girlfriend - looks so young next to Roger's, who looks like a woman.

Well, Mirka is a woman, but yeah. To me, Mirka is the prettiest of them all.

(I'd say I want Roger as my boyfriend but that's really weird considering he's practically married. I find it morally objectionable to lust after Very, Very Attached and Very Married men. It's icky and gross.)

Before I go shower, things I need to do:

1. I need to swim. I'm getting fat.

2. I need to shop. I'm out of interesting clothes to wear.

3. I need to play tennis. I haven't ranted about the tennis class this week, have I? Well, it was really bad. Apart from having that bad feeling that Roger lost his match (he did), I almost flung my racquet to the ground after I missed about ten million forehands. And I was just trying to drop the ball to my racquet head and hit it across the net. It's not even a real serve! And I couldn't even do that. I was really, really pissed. I did make one pretty cool forehand while whacking the ball all over the court with three other people though, but I don't even remember how it happened. It was, therefore, pure luck. I still enjoy whacking the backhand sooo much more. And my serve sucks, too. Coach told me I leaned backwards while tossing the ball which is wrong, and after that I studied Roger's serve (as well as other players') really closely and noticed he only bends after tossing up the ball, while drawing his arm back to whack it. SIGH. After that, on Tuesday, the right side of my body, especially the shoulder, was hurting like fuck-mad. Sad.

4. I need to let go of my irritation because it is quite clearly counter-productive.

5. I need to study. I can't study. I haven't done shit the whole day. Fuck.

6. I need to decide between doing a directed research and doing French. Which is easier? I got all my modules but I don't feel like writing another long-ass paper anymore; I'm all maxed out. And I want to learn French (so that I can communicate with my future boyfriend, Gilles. His English is tragic. He's the same guy that said, "I won't forget the sensation you gave me" to a 10,000 crowd in Madrid) but is it really easier than doing a research paper in English? Sigh. I don't know. I don't even know if the schedule clashes with my other stuff 'cause I haven't been bothered to check.

7. I need to harness Roger's amazing fighting spirit and stop feeling so lackadaisical and tired and bored. But I can't. I'm so over this. I really am.

8. I need to stop wanting the best, stop being picky. But how can I possibly do that? Why live just to settle for less?

before sunrise // before sunset

Previously:
- - Tuesday, Aug. 29, 2017
I'm moving. - Sunday, Jul. 11, 2010
In all honesty - Tuesday, Jul. 06, 2010
What I want for my birthday... - Sunday, Jul. 04, 2010
On Roger's behalf. - Friday, Jul. 02, 2010