Tennis: I love watching the tennis. Next year I am going to get organised and take holidays for the two weeks of the Australian Open. Mind you, I say this every year and always forget. Mainly because by the time the year ends I’m so desperate for holidays I book them in too early. So, this week’s tennis highlights have been restricted to late afternoons and evenings. It was exciting when the young Tomic fella won a match. But at 16 we could be pretty sure that wasn’t going to last.

It was also exciting when Lleyton Hewitt lost in the first round. I have the same feelings about Lleyton as I do about Shane Warne. To put it nicely, he is not my favourite Ozzie tennis player. His eyes are scarily intense, I hate the fist pumping and the starting the lawnmower moves, and cannot stand the aggressive “C’mons!!!”. I may be in the minority, but give me that lovely even-tempered Pat Rafter any day. Of the overseas players I have a soft spot for the crazy Russian Marat Safin and am very worried that now he and Federer are meeting in the third round. Because they are both my favourites. I have bad memories of staying up til past midnight a few years ago when Safin knocked Federer out (or should I say “bundled him out” whatever the heck that actually means) in a semi-final. It was devastating because I wanted so desperately for somehow the rules to be changed and for them both to win. I still do, and the match is on tonight. I will either stay up nervously biting my nails, or go to bed and pretend it’s not happening, and just find out in the morning. I can’t decide.

The women’s tennis is less compelling (that’s a polite way of saying dull), however I watched Jelena Dokic with interest, and was quite moved when she won in the second round on Wednesday night. Nutty tennis fathers need to be banned. Surely there should be some rule against family members also being coaches. Other than that, we’ll just see who makes it into the second week. Oh, and a note on the commentators. PLEASE Channel 7 get rid of Jim Courier and pay whatever you need to, to bring John McEnroe back for the on court post match interviews. I don’t care what it costs, I’ll even chip in.

So with all that tennis a-happening there hasn’t been much other TV watched this week. I did watch the Big Bang Theory again and it is growing on me. I’m enjoying its take on the petty politics of academia. And of course Father Ted and Hamish. But I think I’ve said enough about them on the blog previously.

I also caught the Pixies documentary Gouge on Sunday morning on ABC2. I was excited until I realised I had seen it before. Still, David Bowie had some intelligent things to say. And the songs remain vitally compelling after all these years. So it was a pleasant and nostalgic way to spend an hour.

I am getting excited about Doctor Who on the weekend, but am also living in fear and trepidation of another Andre Rieu marathon. Stupidly, we gave my grandmother Andre in Australia for Christmas. She wants to share. When we will ever learn? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

And, I don’t usually comment on television advertising, but if I get caught by surprise with the “there’s nothing healthy about a tan” grotesque sight of the week once more I am going to scream. Actually scream. Out loud and everything. I grew up with Slip, Slop, Slap and understand very clearly about the need to be sun smart. I do not need to see scary pictures of black tumours growing under the skin to be reminded to stay out of the sun in summer. Surely today’s impressionable young people would also be entranced by the lisping seagull/pelican/whatever type of bird that actually was. And if they’re going for shock value shouldn’t the model in the ad be old, wizened and wrinkly with lots of sun damage if this is the point they are trying to get across? Not young, in a bikini and with a light brown tan?

Really, in instances such as these we need to be able to mute sound and picture together.

Oh, I know, that’s the off button. I must locate that on my remote.