game, set, match, life

I let my racket do the talking. That's what I am all about, really. I just go out and win tennis matches.
- Pete Sampras

At 23 years old, I still plan on making it to the US Open one day. Not just like in section Y, seat 18, but in center court, Arthur Ashe.

In a game I've been playing since I was seven, and where the pros are all 18, I think I have a definite chance of raising a ruckus. But until then, I will have to be content with section Y, seat 18, and various other seats around the USTA grounds.

Two days this year - whoooo!! - and we got to see Henin, Williams, Haas, Safin, Roddick, and a host of something-or-other-ova's that make me think the Russians are staging an invasion via tennis courts (they're all 18, too, did I mention?).

As much fun as I have every year at the Open, there is still always this pestering sensation that I should have tried a long time ago to make it out there. Maybe strange that I should think that, considering that my profession and intended career paths are all in the arts.

Not so strange, I say, considering that of all the sports I've ever attempted, tennis has been the only one to really have an impact. For one, it's a solo event. If I win, I win. If I lose, I lose. I don't have to answer to anybody but myself. Secondly, well, it's a fun rush that I'm actually good at, somewhat, and that I've played my whole life.

So is it crazy to stand at the top of Arthur Ashe stadium, at 23 years old, never having played in a pro tournament, and envision myself playing in the court below?

Probably... but not impossible.

a birthday luau

Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Just walk beside me and be my friend.
- Albert Camus

One luau. Two birthdays. Six tiki torches. Lots of friends and family.

Happy Birthday to my sister and me!! Well, not officially, but almost =)

* Picasa Web Album - Birthday Luau 2007 *

short hair, anyone??

We must become the change we want to see.
- Mahatma Ghandi

So finally, after months and months of waiting, I've gotten my haircut.

Short, indeed. Not nearly as short as I had originally intended, but short, nontheless.

I know there are some women who would gasp at the thought of cutting their locks of curls, but I was elated. I felt like a kid again, sitting in the salon, waiting to get a haircut that most people thought was a silly idea because *gasp* why would any female want short hair?

Funny enough, despite the fact that I sported short hair for much of my childhood up until the age of 12 or so, I've had "long" hair just about the rest of time since then - "long" because recently I came to the realization that what I consider to be long hair, most women still think is short.

So yes, even though I've yearned to spike my curliness or jump out of bed and run outside without any mirror fretting or swim in a pool without eating my unruly hair that was always sure to come undone from a hairband, I've still struggled through long hair.

A struggle because my hair is curly. Like ridiculously curly. Like unnecessarily, annoyingly curly. About two years ago I found the perfect salon that specializes in curls of all sorts (they have such a place!!) which has helped a great deal, but still, for someone who is content meandering to work in jeans, flip flops, and a t-shirt, one hour of hair styling can become a trying ordeal.

Yet for all these years, I have dealt with it. Partly because long hair can, I admit, be fun sometimes, but moreso because there is a part of me that is still afraid of being pointed out as the tomboy, a fear which is what originally forced me to grow out my hair in the first place (you should've seen the look on my face when I first realized I had curls). At 23 years of age, it's silly to think that short hair will transport me back to a corner in the playground, but still, somewhere, that thought still lurks there.

But whatever. When I left high school early to start college, people cried that I would miss prom (a milestone I missed, oh woe is me). When I said I was going to cut my hair, people cried that short hair would lack the same aesthetic charm of long hair.

Well, I did it.

And I'm sooo0 damn happy =P

Now if only if I could stop listening to people and get back to all that writing...

the police in town

Every little thing she does is magic...
- The Police

For the past several months, I've been thinking about The Police, and this past week, I finally got to meet them. Well, in a, "I see you over there" kind of way.

With monumental ticket prices that were scaring my wallet into hiding every time it heard my ticket guy utter them, I waited almost until the last day to buy them. It was Monday, and I secured tickets for Wednesday, opening night at Madison Square Garden. How much were tickets? Let's just say they were priceless and worth every penny.

I went with Alex, of course. What better than a belated birthday gift that puts you in the same arena with Sting & Co.? Dinner at Stout's - the bar 10 feet away from MSG where everyone was gearing up for the show with The Police on flat screen TVs - and we were ready.

Sitting in front of the stage, lower 300 section, it was amazing how many people were practically stuck to the ceiling, behind the stage. I'm pretty sure some people might have gotten tickets as far back as the bathrooms. So of course I was especially thrilled with our seats =) The crowd, for the most part, was older than us. In fact, so much younger must I have looked that when I offered to get another beer, I was carded and then denied a drink because I could not show ID. Not to mention I turn 23 in three weeks, so I was amused and slightly annoyed. The answer - I went and got Alex, and together we stared down the man and bought a beer... and a Sprite for me =P Note to self - always bring ID, even if you don't drink.

The show was amazing, and how it could not be, when they opened up with Message in a Bottle? Everyone was singing along, and I mean eeeeveryone. Just seeing everyone there was quite a sight, and considering how long we had waited for this show, it was almost surreal - like we weren't really there, and The Police really weren't playing... but they were, and after two hours of great music and two encores that rounded up all the other hits, it was over.

It was well worth the wait, and officially the first concert Alex and I have gone to that was for a band he actually really wanted to see.

Exciting. Memorable. Awesome.

Best show ever =)