Memorial Day Weekend Marsha Day Madness 2009!

This past weekend I participated in my 2nd annual Marsha Day tournament sponsored by MTG AKA Metro Tennis Group AKA Gay New York Tennis. Unlike all the other GLTA (Gay & Lesbian Tennis Association - sorry for all the acronyms) tourneys, this one is open to only members of the New York group. Because of that, I find Marsha Day to be a bit more relaxed and easy-going than other tournaments. Most people know each other and have played with each other many times before so it's also a big homo gossip fest and a silly good time. On the other hand, the competition can be fierce as old rivals square off and burried annomosities sometimes rear their ugly head.

I don't get involved in that shit. Due to my living below the poverty level economic status, I hadn't been playing much tennis and wasn't expecting much so I was just hoping for some competetive matches and to be entertained by lots of tennis gays queening out.

As fate would have it, my first match was against my co-founder of The Soceity of Hotness: The Official Balthaser-Hormillosa Fan Club, JP.

It was an early match, at 8am, so I don't blame most of our fans for not showing. You girls need your beauty sleep! I had never beaten JP, but our confrontations have always been competitive, so I knew I was in for a good match. I started out real shaky but then picked up my game, almost bringing the first set to a tie breaker. The second set did go to a tie breaker which I narrowly pulled out. Then we went to a 10 point super tie breaker for the third set and indeed the match. JP seemed to kinda lose it in the super tie breaker - it must have been all the papparazzi and photos distracting him. And I had Rick and Baby Reno there pulling for me. Thanks boys!


I pulled out my first C win 4-6, 7-6, 10-4 (or something like that).

My second match did not go so well. I lost 1-6, 1-6 to David Hart. He's a tricky sly fellow, and I found I really need to work on my drop shots and consistancy if I want to be competitive in C singles.

Meanwhile, Rick was burning through the draw. On the top of his game, he was powering past opponents, leaving them shells of shame. I mean, just look at his focus and determination. That's my man.


Neither of our doubles matches went particularly well - in that we didn't win - Charlie and I put up a mighty fight but I hit too many unforced errors and it was a rather dissappointing loss given that we could have - and should have - won. So after that I was out, but was pleased that I had beaten JP for the first time and won my first C match.


Flash forward to Monday for the Marquee Matchup - Tim Robinson vs. Rick Smetana in the A Final. This was definitely the best match of live tennis I've ever seen. They are good friends, both knew each other's playing style intimately. At first, it looked like Rick was going to roll over Tim. He won the first set 6-2. Then, Tim turned it on and fought to bring to a tiebreaker and win that for the second set. The third set was just amazing. These two had played probably 20 matches combined in the past three days and were playing 110% in the blazing sun. They were exausted but were just slamming the ball back and forth for crazy rallies. Tim dug deep, went ahead early, and Rick could not pull back in front. Tim won 6-4.


Afterwards, they said how they were feeling during the match:

"I almost threw up on the court" - Tim
"I almost cried at one point" - Rick

Now that's some good tennis!

Afterwards we went to Bamboo 52 for some fun times and delicious drinks. Enjoy the pics! Thanks to Odin Medina for some of the pics

The A Finalist and Champion

Goodbye for good

Dear Lost,

By the time you read this I'll be gone. I know we've had a tumultuous relationship over the years. We've laughed, we've cried, we've dodged polar bears in the jungle. You've excited and scared me more than anyone else since some of my first loves. . .Star Trek TNG, 24. . .but this isn't about them. . .it's about us. And were over. Once and for all. I know I've said that before, only to come running back to you and your Smoke Monster loving arms. But this time I mean it, were through. You'll have to employ one of your oh-so-clever flashbacks to revisit us in happier days.

When I first caught a glimpse of you when we would pass in the hallways, I thought you were a bit shallow. I've been around the block a few times, and I thought I'd seen the likes of you before. The Blue Lagoon, Lord of the Flies, hell, Robinson Crusoe beat you to whole dangerous-tropical-island thing by over three hundred years. Still, I kept hearing gossip about you. How hot you were. That you were smart, deeper than meets the eye, and surprisingly emotional. How much fun you are at a party. Your mysterious, dangerous past. I became intrigued. So, I took a shot in the dark. I said "hey," and you said "hey" right back. After several Wednesday night dates, I was obsessed.

It was love. Time passed as if in a dream. You were full of surprises and intrigue, and I loved all of your zany friends. All those nights taking walks on the beach, making out by the light of the Hatch, well, I'll never forget them. I wish we could go back to that time. I thought you might be "the one," but I admit, I began to get bored and frustrated by you a little bit. Your once titillating secrets were becoming confusing and a source of concern and I started to believe you were just making up stuff to try and and stay interesting, like some epic poseur. Some of your new (and old) friends were really annoying. I mean Niki and Paulo? Really? Where did you drag those winners up? All your little allusions, and clues, and surprises that used to seem so fresh, well, they got stale. And I thought it was just plain weird how there were all those random people who would hang around you and you would never introduce them to me.

I don't want to rehash how we broke up; it was ugly and we both said hurtful things. We both went our separate ways. Then, I found all these videos off you on the web. I was simultaneously disgusted and strangely excited to find out what you had been up to while I was away. You seemed to have gotten some of your shit together, and then flash forward and BAM! you were the talk of the town again! I shouldn't have done it, but I took you back.

The next year was, predictably, up and down. I liked your new friends, the Freighter folks, and you seemed to be opening up some about your mysterious past. Still, whenever you would confide in me one of your secrets, you reveled something else even more deeply buried. You still wouldn't shut up about your annoying friends Jack and Kate, and sometimes you would just babble on and on about your friends whose motivations I never quite understood. Still, I stayed by your side, perhaps bouyed by my memories of the golden years, hoping you'd get back to the way you were back then. Then, this year, it all began to unravel, again. Your stories got more and more preposterous and I just could go it on faith alone. You promised me I'd understand it all eventually, but I ran out of patience. I mean REALLY? Jack went to this father's house and stole his SHOES and put it in Locke's COFFIN? I just couldn't humor you anymore; I was bored again. Plus, American Idol is a better fuck.

Sorry, that was inappropriate. I know what a wreck you are these days, and I'm worried about you. So when you called me drunkely last night and asked to meet me at the diner, I agreed. You spilled your heart to me, but it was like you were a completely different person, like I didn't even know you anymore. I mean yeah, some things are still the same. Jack and Sawyer were still at each other's throats. . .that's just thrilling. But Sun is hanging out with Richard and the Others? And Jack is throwing nuclear bombs down big holes? And Juliet falls down said hole and survives? And then detonates said nuclear bomb with a fucking ROCK?! Oh no, Lost, oh no. You've really gone off the deep end. I have to cut off all communication. You need help. You need to go away for a while and work some of your shit out honey. I'm through with you. Goodbye for good.

Oh Jesus, who am I kidding? I will always love you in my own weird way. Call me next year, and maybe, just maybe, we can get together for coffee and talk.

xoxo
JB

I'm gonna be a reporter!

No, seriously, I am. Just hold tight. I realized I never updated all my adoring fans with news of my graduate school hunt. Well, the long wait is over. I will be staying in New York City, attending the CUNY Graduate School of Journalism. This development is good for three main reasons:

1. I get to stay in the city that never sleeps (and where my husband has a job)

Yes, my feelings about New York over the years have fluctuated like the 2009 DJIA, but overall, I really do love this city. And what better place is there to learn to be a journalist? None, that's where. Another bonus is that we don't have to pack up and haul ass across the country because then Rick would have to find another job and Kippy would probably vomit in the car.

2. CUNY is astonishingly cheap, and I got a scholarship!

Tuition per semester for New York State residents is $3,765. Yes, you read that right, that's not per class, or per credit, but per semester. And that cost even includes all those bullshit extra charges schools like to throw at you like "student activity fee" and "Consolidated Fee." Please, tell me, what the fuck is a consolidated fee? Even better, I received a scholarship that will basically pay for the entire first semester. I can't think of a better situation than getting out of grad school (basically) debt free.

3. The CUNYGSJ is actually a great school and will prepare me well to be a top notch journalist.

Yes, I said actually. That's becuase the perception of CUNY is something of, well, a sub-par school. That's been my perception as well. Because let's face it, it ain't NYU or Columbia. This is a public school, and that's just fine with me. However, it's quite a about face from the wealthy, white kid world of Skidmore. I have to over my elitist sensibilites and learn to say CUNY with pride. And the thing is, it's hard to actually know how good the Journalism school is, because it's brand new. The school opened it's doors in 2006 and therefore has to build its reputation. Still, I have spent quite some time at the school and there is an exciting energy that permeates the facility. Their focus on building marketable skills and training students to be become "all-platform journalist" is way ahead of the curve. As reported last month in a New York Times article, the school has done away with track requirements and now students can choose classes to acquire skills that will most benefit them. Like most schools, I will get out of the school what I put into it and that presents me with a healthy challenge, which is good for me. My future awaits. . .

My long lost other brother?

No less than TWO people today have told me I like like Chris Pine, who plays Kirk in the new Star Trek movie coming out this month. Ok, so one was prompted, but the other person was a beautiful latino guy with sexy arms. What do you think? Separated at birth?