Sometimes, the best things in life are followed by the worst. And sometimes, the opposite occurs. but most of the time, it's just bad followed by bad followed by bad and just when you think it'll tip over to good...it's bad followed by bad followed by bad.

But whatever. Here's the long update.

I discovered an awesome new TV show called White Collar, one ep in, and fully addicted. And it's aired about 6 episodes in US or something, and already planning a 22 episode season 2. Or was it 24. Dunno. Whatever. It's a pro show. I am going to wake at 4 tomorrow to enjoy more of it.

Novak is quite pro in tennis, won three of his past four tournaments, beat Federer AND Nadal. And is in London at Barclays WTF and got beaten by Soderling...but fingers crossed for a win against Nadal to secure that second crucial spot.

I'm watching the Amazing Race too and can't express my frustration that I don't know who's going to win. Because the aching feeling, needing to know Sam and Dan win is killing me and I can hardly make an episode through without that weird feeling in your stomach that drops. AKA I NEED A LIFE.

I have also quit Nanowrimo. With hardly over one-tenth done, it's hard to imagine how my next days will be if I kept typing. This decision kills me because I won last year. And I made notes for all my yearlies. And this year, I just didn't try hard enough. One day I'll be over it.

There's some things in life you just think about every single day. No matter how busy you are, no matter how tired you are, it somehow seeps through the cracks in those walls you put up and enters your mind. It's annoying. Most of mine are bad experiences, regrets, the things I ache for, the mistakes of my past. I WANT to live in the present, the future, but I can't because the past is glued to my consciousness.

You know, every single time I fail something, every single time just one person is that half a step ahead of me, every single time someone else gets the praise I deserve, a part of me just gives up. It's gone. Tennis has been something that has taken my life into a wild twisted world of excitement and tears and a weird imaginary world I have never entered before. Who was Novak? What's a set point? What's a volley? It's almost dream like sometimes, so distant and so close. It can't be touched, it's felt. It's something that isn't close to me, it's something I access on a electric screen or on Thursday mornings.

So what, now I have to face the truth? I'm not right about everything, I never am. I'm never going to play professional tennis, even Lisa can serve and I can't. I'm not going to be a good author because my writing is filled with errors and plot holes. I'm not going to live the rich life I want, at a penthouse looking over the city lights and drive a Lexus and own a Benz, because I'm simply not smart enough. I'm never going to own some huge company that makes me a billionaire, because I'm frankly too lazy to work for it.

I don't know what I'm talking about.

Have a nice day.