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Dear Diary, Today we did it. Sergei and I are finally married. I looked so pretty. I mean, absolutely drop-dead, heart-stoppingly pretty. Sergei looked nice, too. I'm pretty sure he did. I don't really remember him being there, actually. But I looked wonderful. It's a shame we had to keep the wedding a secret. I'm certain I could get a deal from adidas to endorse a prototype of my low-cut lycra wedding dress. Oh, well. We leave for Greece and the honeymoon next week. I think the finals of my next tourney are actually in the same week as the honeymoon. But I'm not really worried. Love, Anna. |
Dear Diary,
Later, Sergei. |
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Dear Diary, It has been a couple weeks since the honeymoon. It's funny how the relationship seems so much different now that I'm making an effort to be around Sergei more than just for paparazzi photos. Being a wife is a real adjustment. Having my assistants run errands for two can be exhausting. And I'm getting frustrated with Sergei demanding I devote "equal time" toward him. He knew going into this that I'm a career woman, first. Therefore, fashion has to remain priority one. And tennis is up there, too. But the important thing is, I'm Mrs. Anna Kournikova. I used to be "Ms." Love, Anna. |
Dear Diary, Well, a week and a half under my belt, and the little woman and I are still hanging tough. I haven't seen her since the honeymoon, but we're really starting to get to know each other. She sent an e-mail from her shoot and signed it with her middle name. It's like we know every page of the books of each other's lives. I'm a little concerned that distance could challenge the relationship, but every time I check out that butt, I'm reminded of what makes love go 'round. Later, Sergei. |
Dear Diary,
Love, Anna |
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Dear Diary, Had lunch with some weird Canadian guy who kept telling me, "I got fingered." Anna says he's famous. I'll take her word for it. Later, Sergei |
Dear Diary, Sergei and I had our first argument tonight. He thinks that the second season of "Survivor" was more compelling than this season. Our love seemed deep, but sometimes I wonder if we're just too darned different. Assuming I did any, these problems could really distract me from my tournament preparation. Oh well, time to watch my Panthers locker room webcam. Love, Anna |
Dear Diary, I sense some distance between me and Anna. For one thing, she has totally lost interest in watching the Red Wings play. I don't get it. We're always one of the best teams in hockey, but for a while, all she wanted to do was watch Panthers games! Sure, that Roberto Luongo is an exciting young goalie with a great glove, but the Panthers? Then, all at once, Anna decides she's going to watch nothing but Rangers games. Talk about a fair weather fan. Go figure. Peace, Sergei |
Dear Diary,
Love, Anna |
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Dear Diary, Went over to Carol (Alt) and Alexei (Yashin)'s place last night to play Pictionary. Good lord, Anna is dead weight. Yeah, she's got a body built for drawing, but when it's crunch time, she claimed that she had never seen the object she was supposed to draw. C'mon! Who doesn't know what the championship trophy at Wimbledon looks like? And what's up with her voting for the same guy over and over on TRL every day? I'm getting pretty sick of all this. Peace, Sergei |
Dear Diary, Well, it's official. Sergei and I are divorced. Doesn't matter. I don't really have time for a marriage. I'm too busy with this Penthouse lawsuit. It does make me wonder how long it will be before I have to pose nude to get anyone to care about me. If I ever find out who called the magazine and said that chick was me, I'll kill him. Love, Anna |
Dear Diary, Revenge is sweeter than a hat trick. Later, Sergei |