Archive for the 'Tennis' Category
August 31, 2006 | Tennis
Nora Roberts in an August 2006, Romance Writers Report, was asked if she believed in the writing muse. Her response was classic and words to live by. “If you need to believe in the muse, let’s say, fine and dandy. Whatever works for you. But don’t tell me you can’t work today because the muse has left you. Go track down that fickle slut, drag her back, chain her to your keyboard, and GET TO WORK.”
I believe her words, but my muse right now is having a difficult time concentrating and I’m making allowances for it. It’s time for the US Open, and it’s Andre Agassi’s last tournament. He’s retiring afterward, regardless of how deep he goes in the draw. Monday night was fantastic and I had to watch. Andre and his opponent, another Andre Pavel, split the first two sets and when I got home from my critique group meeting, Agassi was down four, love. In other words, his opponent had four games, Agassi had none. It looked like he was done, but he dug deep, the New York crowd cheered him on and he won the next five games, won the tie break and then won the fourth set. Awesome! It’s always been awesome when Agassi played. When he had the long ponytail and black painted nails, now he’s bald, a father of two, thirty five years old and still hot. I want him to teach JMan. I’m also watching Thursday evening. I want him to win, but I want him to lose with the dignity he possesses. Andre said you don’t win Grand Slams, you take Grand Slams. When Agassi was falling in the rankings, he played the unglamorous men’s Challengers. He worked his way back into playing shape, by running up and down a mountain near his Las Vegas home. He never gave up and that’s why JMan and I watch him together. Inspiration for both us.
March 7, 2006 | Tennis
I ache. My knees hurt. My back hurts. My shoulders hurt. I ache all over. I played second singles Sunday, and lost. But, I played well, and my opponent was a very experienced player. The important issue is, I exercised. I was very saddened to read about the death of Dana Reeves. She was the widow of Christopher ‘Superman’ Reeves. Dana Reeves died of lung cancer. She was not a smoker. According to doctors, eighty five percent of lung cancer deaths come from smoking. The rest are attributed to second hand smoke. Doctors say one in five women diagnosed with lung cancer are not smokers.
Black women are highly susceptible to many of the major health diseases. Heart disease is the number one killer of black women. Black women are four times more likely to have heart disease than White women. Black men, also suffer from high cholesterol, and heart problems. Kirby Puckett, the Minnesota Twins all-star, died today from a massive stroke. He was 45 years old, African-American, about five feet eight, and over three hundred pounds! Apparently, a heart attack waiting to happen.
All women have to be be aware of their health. We put ourselves last, taking care of other family members first. Two years ago, I wasn’t feeling very well, and had my blood pressure taken at the health club. The physical trainer went pale. He said I should see my doctor – soon. I said I would. I went home, fixed dinner for our son, and then went to the urgent aid center. Then, I took a ride in an ambulance to the nearest hospital. Was I worried? Nope! About my extremely high blood pressure, and the possibility I might have a stroke? No! I was freaking out about the two hundred dollars in floor tile in the trunk of my car, sitting in the parking lot of the center. See, we have our priorities screwed up. I bet our kids don’t miss their dental or doctor appointments. Sloane, after my little hospital visit, gave me a pamphlet with the warning signs of a heart attack. It ain’t called the silent killer for nothing. We think we’ve got the flu. We think we’re run down. We think if we lay down for an hour, we’ll feel better. Most of the time, that could be the case. But don’t you think it’s better we find out for real what’s wrong with us?
Now, I equate every medical visit with Dustin Hoffman’s dentist experience in Marathon Man. I recently had my first colon test. If you want to see color photos of my colon, let me know. I was suppose to take the test two years ago, but found every excuse I could, including the one, I just didn’t want to. But, recently a friend of mine’s wife, died from colon cancer. She was in her mid-forties, and had eleven year old twins. Colon cancer ran in her family, but my understanding is, she didn’t get checked in time. She died on Christmas Day. Of course, my doctor proceeds to tell me about two more women, both black, in their mid-forties recently dying of colon cancer. My test came back clean. Pun intended. Both colon and lung cancers are silent, deadly, and hard to detect. The warning signs come very late. I hesitated, and the worse part of the test, was drinking the crummy phosphate liquid. Fasting all day, wasn’t a problem, but I really don’t want to see Garden Vegetable Broth any time soon. The test took fifteen minutes. The sedative was great, and I woke up long enough for the doctor to show me how he was removing one polyp. Cool! Couldn’t even feel the device up my butt. Not a bad day. Hubby even waited on me, and I ate Chinese food. So, it was all good. We rush, rush, rush, rush, and say we don’t have the time. YES WE DO! YES WE MUST!
As romance writers, we write about the happily ever after. As women, we need to make sure we have our own healthy, happily ever after, right now.
December 16, 2005 | Tennis
All writers would love to spend hours, creating, working on our craft – uninterrupted. Just as we’re getting a scene to work, the dialogue is kicking, and the characters are telling us what is happening to them – our kids need to be picked up, or a fever is raging and they need to go to the doctor, or hubby and the kids no longer want take out, they want a really home cooked meal. Preferably in their own home. It’s holiday season and there are parties you have to go to, decorations that must be put up. Well, here comes my weekend. My daughter returns from college today, on her 22nd birthday. When did she turn 22? This is a tennis weekend. I’ve practice today, Saturday morning, and a match Saturday evening. I’m playing singles Saturday, second position, not first. I’m good, not stupid. Remember I said writing was like tennis? Well, here I go, putting myself out there in front of people, demonstrating my expertise. I have to focus on what I’m doing, not allow interruptions to distract me, and try my best to win. This match is especially lonely, because the club we’re playing at, makes the second singles players, play on one side, while the other players are on the other. So, it’s just me, my opponent and hopefully my daughter who is coming to watch. Not much dialogue, unless you count our talking to each other about if the ball was in or out and we’re ready for the next point to begin. Lots of screams, not from passion, but from me for missing a shot. After I recuperate from this, we’re going out for a family dinner Sunday to celebrate her birthday. Then comes Monday morning – I’m free to work on the next few chapters of my book. Christmas Break will be in full force. I don’t have to worry about Santa, buying toys, but I do have to worry about hiding gifts and remembering where I hide them. A few events, but a relatively easy two weeks. So wish me luck, some of you know where to find me online, and I’ll be back Monday.
Oh, I did post my rejection letter on Writing Humps, Dumps and Lumps. If you decide to share yours, don’t worry, no real names will be used.
December 4, 2005 | Tennis
Well, this has been a good day so far. First, my tennis team won three out of five matches, which means we beat the other team. Their captain, a cool woman, wasn’t very happy about it. Gee, Trudy, tell us how you really felt. It’s all in fun, but when you’ve been down so long, it feels good to win. The other two matches were close. I think other teams now think of us as a force to be reckoned with. I didn’t play. I actually got some writing in. I stayed focused, and worked. Well, my brain did keep wondering how my team mates were doing. I skimmed the Nordstrom website, looking at evening gowns that would excite Stephen, my hero. Who says research can’t be fun? I’m working on the scene when Stephen sees Elizabeth dressed to go out and he wants to stay in, and make love. It’s told from his point of view. Naturally, I had to go ask hubby this chicken or the egg question. When excited, what does the brain, if anything say, does it tell you, you’re aroused or does the physically reaction register it first, and then yell to the brain? He gave me this weird look, and asked, “Has this got something to do with your book?” He returned to watching the Bears game.
Goal Number Two for 2006. Outline my paranormal Wicca series and finish the first book by June. I’m looking forward to working on this one. I’m determined to make it multicultural, funny, and dark.