For Love and Chocolate: The Day I Turned Tween

I'm going to tell you about my exciting day yesterday, okay?

Well, first I went to check out the Docklands, which is an area of the city that I had yet to explore. So, I went to this cute little playground for the purpose of taking pictures for this wee video I later made using iMovie to showcase an awesome sculpture I had seen in passing on the tram the other day:

(Click on it to watch it on youtube. It's a little chopped off here.)

Cool beans, huh? So then, after much exploration and picture taking, I started a very long walk home. On Collins Street, in front of Lindt Chocolate, I came across this scene:

"What the heck are you people doing?" I ask.

"Roger Federer is inside!!" they exclaim.

I gasp.

Believe me when I tell you, I'm no celebrity stalker. Truly, I think it's pretty absurd to put people on a pedestal like that, especially just for being good-looking or rich or good at acting or sports or something. They're just people, you know. BUT for every rule there is an exception: male tennis players are the exception. There is just something indescribably sexy about a man playing tennis. Ever since I was a young girl I have had a series of crushes on male tennis players. First, it was Pete Sampras. Then, it was Patrick Rafter, followed by a very short-lived crush on Andy Roddick. (I'm sooooo over him.) Now, it's Roger Federer. When I see that sexy Swedish beast of a man sweating as he swooshes his racket, I swoon. I swoon, I tell you. So, when I realized that Roger Federer (who is in town for the upcoming Australian Open) was inside of the building I was standing outside of, my inner tween came alive.

It turns out, Roger Federer is an official global ambassador for Lindt, a Swiss company. So, alongside all the other schmucks I waited for the chance to catch a glimpse of a star. It was so very unlike me, which is one of the reasons I think I enjoyed it so much. There was a great sense of camaraderie and excitement in the air. People kept coming up, asking what all the fuss was about. The British man I was standing by and I had fun messing with people. "Arnold Schwarzenegger is inside!" "Paris Hilton is in there!" "Barack Obama is here buying chocolates for Malia, Sasha and Michelle! We swear!"

Hee. Hee. I also had a chat with this guy, who led me to believe he was Roger Federer's driver:

After some time had passed though, the whole event came to a very anti-climactic end when some official looking people came out to explain that Roger wasn't even inside anymore. He had slipped out the back! That sneaky, sexy Swedish bastard made a chump out of me! So, in the end, all I got was this lousy piece of Federer chocolate from a guy wearing make-up and a funny hat:

(Actually it was delicious and I was thrilled about it!) And furthermore, it was very much all worth it because I also got this:

a glimpse of Roger's head. Swoon.

(Who am I?)