Early bird

No idea why I woke up at 3.30 -- probably Mr H put a curse on me.
But first come the really important things, i.e. two pics of Lola I took yesterday.

She does look good on a black leather sofa, doesn't she?


Luckily I was holding my cell phone in my hand just as she discovered her mirrored image.

Re. last night's invitation: I chose not to go, and this is why:
Call me a stick-in-the-mud, but I felt an intense dislike of both the manner in which I was "invited" and the location.
No, I don't need handmade invitation cards embossed with gold, but "I just wanted to tell you in case you're interested" is definitely at the other end of the spectrum. The location was a rather lacklustre (and not even very hip or trendy) café-cum-club at the Youth Cultural Centre. Again, it doesn't have to be the Gand Ball Room of Skopje's only five-star hotel, but one could easily imagine a more appropriate space for this kind of send-off.
All this wouldn't have been enough to put me off, but the following considerations did:
1) Last night, also at 8 p.m., the Croatian Ambassador had invited the other Heads of Mission to his own farewell cocktail. This means that no-one of equal rank could/would have gone to Mr H's do -- a pretty sad picture after two years' working with them, whether he liked it/them or not. Only a few deputies and [...] employees. The mere thought leaves a bitter taste.
2) Either one leaves with one's head held high, adversities notwitstanding, in which case one could either invite a few friends to a dinner or party, or throw a really big event, merely to show that one still has one's pride. Or one leaves quietly, without a word to anybody. I suppose he would have chosen the latter, given his opinion of the diplomatic community in general and the blow he's taken. But yesterday's event had all the hallmarks of "Bad Boy has been expelled from school, and his admirers throw a secret party to spite the Evil Teachers". A guerilla party, so to speak. (Strictly my perception of course)
3) Mr H and I are not, and have never been friends. We had dinner a few times, we played tennis a few times, and I had a mighty crush on him. Also, I used to like him, and I did as much as I could when he was in a bad situation (including two or three things my boss would certainly disapprove of, if he knew). But friendship goes both ways, and he certainly never treated me as a friend, well, not the way I and probably many others would define friendship. And last Thursday's dinner invitation stunt, much though I regret saying so, put a rather abrupt end to my liking him. I'd still help him on a professional level, but on that level he's beyond help now anyway.
So, to sum things up: I didn't want to go to a party that had "failure" written all over it,because it would have made me feel very uncomfortable, and I saw no reason why I should do that for somebody who only started replying to messages when he was neck-deep in shit and needed an ally.
Is that petty? I don't know -- it doesn't feel like pettiness, more like having finally sobered up.

On a completely different note: the ice treatment is working like a charm. The arm is almost back to normal, and yesterday we played only backhand, no serves, so no strain was being put on the right arm. I'm *so* glad that I won't be needing cortisone, laser therapy or -- oh horror! -- another 6-week break from playing.