One.

Cupcakes anyone?

My baby blog just turned one! Partay! 

 

 

Having realised I’ve left a few things unexplained, here are the answers to some questions you were all too lazy to ask. 😀

 

1. Why is this blog called “All I need is a picket fence”?

A) Secret fence fetish

B) Psychoanalytic insight into humanity’s need for security and closure.

C) Secret ploy to make sure that this blog tops every alphabetically-arranged blogroll and links directory

D) Awesome tennis reference you’re just too dumb to get

E) Throwaway line someone said when Doots was registering the blog.

 

Sorry to disappoint, the answer is E.

A friend said it to me while I was registering on wordpress and it just stuck because it was so quirky and entirely irrelevant to everything.

 

2. This blog was almost going to be…

grassisforcows.wordpress.com

 

3. The name ‘Dootsiez’ is…

An old nickname that’s fallen out of use, although writing this blog has actually revived it in real life. 

 

4. I got into men’s tennis because of…

Rafa’s ass. 

I got into women’s tennis because of the Williams sisters. Had a crush on Pat Rafter too, back in the day. But who didn’t?

 

5. I used to hate Federer.

I thought he was boring. I thought he lacked emotions(!!). I thought he had bad hair (!!!). I thought he had too much hair (!!!!). I thought he was an overrated tennis player. I ‘hmmphed’ at his forehands. I mocked his backhands. I claimed his dominance wouldn’t last for more than 3 years. I was convinced he would never marry Mirka…

In short, I was just a whole pile of blasphemous wrong.

Roger proved me silly on every account, and I had my first “religious experience” during the 2007 Australian Open semifinal. From then on, it was a point of no return. I was converted. I saw the error of my ways and headed for the light.

Yada yada.

These days, I’ll happily admit that the Fed is the best thing since pickled vegetables.

Damn right he is.

 

So here’s to a year of stomach ulcers, bald patches, and acid reflux induced by this crazy sport of tennis. A year of frazzling, and fretting, and freaking out. A year of tennis porn and historical celebrations. 

Best of all, it’s been a year of goofing off with you readers and fellow bloggers. 

Cheers to all that. Hurrah!

 

 

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