Listening: Nothing, but I'm soliciting reviews on Sugar Ray, Robbie Williams, and Sixpence None the Richer. I've wasted too much money buying CDs for one song, so if anyone has these albums and likes them, let me know.

Watching: The X-Games trials. I don't know why, but I love this stuff. The biking, skateboarding, rollerblading hotdogging is kinda cool.

And now that they're over, I'm watching "Point of No Return" on TNT, but I only like this movie up until the point she goes out into the world. After that I get bored. Probably has something to do with the fact that Gabriel Byrne's hardly in it after she leaves.

And now that she's left, I'm watching the Rocky Horror Picture Show on Comedy Central, but frankly, the movie is stupid unless you're watching it in a theater with people who know what to say and when to say it.

Anticipating: The new Austin Powers movie... only five more days!!

Contemplating:The tattoo issue reigns supreme. If I had to get one tomorrow, I'm thinking it would be some sort of cross. Not just a plain old cross, but some sort of Buffyesque ornate thing. But that could change.

Okay. Was that the best tennis match you have ever seen? The greatest comeback ever, courtesy of my little Andre. I never lost faith in him, because he's famous for taking matches to five sets, and when he does, he nearly always wins.

And now he's only the fifth man to ever have won all four Grand Slams (the U.S. Open, Australian Open, French Open, and Wimbledon). Sampras? Nope. Becker? Nope. McEnroe, Borg, Lendl? No, no, no. Agassi's the first guy to do it in like twenty years.

Of course, the tale of Grace's French Open final is not without its trauma, which is only fitting for the week I've been having.

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In case you've been away, let's recap. On Wednesday, I got home to find my apartment completely without electricity. On Thursday, I arrive home and lock my keys in my car. On Friday, I trip in the street walking into work and rip my skirt and my nylons and put a nice big scrape across my knee and have to go home and change.

Saturday was fine, nothing to report, except that as I was watching the last part of the women's tennis finals, a crawl comes across the bottom of the screen which informs me that the station I am watching will be holding a telethon tomorrow and that I can watch the men's final on WXYZ-57, which, of course, is a station that I don't get on my cable system.

Bullshit, I think, and wonder who the genius was that scheduled a damn telethon on the weekend of the finals of one of the four major tennis tournaments.

Whatever. I think about it for a half-a-second until I decide that I will just get up early in the morning and drive to Smallville, where my mother and aunt are staying with my other aunt because my grandfather went back into the hospital (minor surgery, nothing serious).

So I do. I set the alarm for 7:00 and wake up at 6:15, wondering why my body can't remember that it's Sunday. But it doesn't matter because I wanted to be up anyway, and I quickly shower, get dressed, and hop in the car for the hour-and-a-half drive.

Also uneventful, until I pull up outside my aunt's house and begin to get out of the car, when I hit my knee on the half-full cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee and splash it on my pants.

I go into the house expecting to find it up and running, since it's almost nine and my family tends to be early risers. I walk in, calling, "Hello?" I don't hear any voices. I wonder if they all went to early church when my aunt comes downstairs, dressed for church, whispering: "Everyone's still asleep. What are you doing here?"

I felt kind of silly that I drove all that way to watch tennis, but they're my family, so I didn't really care. I did get everyone awake, though. My mother was sleeping on the couch in the living room so I went in and chatted with her (after getting a wet paper towel to clean the coffee out of my pants) while everyone wandered in and out wondering what I was doing there. It turns out that they had all stayed up talking until 2:00, which is why everyone was still asleep at 9:00, except my aunt who sings in the church choir.

So for a while there I was worried that I had driven all that way to watch Agassi get spanked in three sets, but he came through for me!

Oh, and at some point I got a bottle of diet coke out of the fridge and sprayed it all over myself and the living room when I opened it, but those events have become commonplace in my life, so I may not even mention them anymore.