Tennis Lessons

Ok, so I am kind of an impulsive person. I think of something, get it stuck in my head, and then I have to do it right away. Well, I have a tennis racquet but have no clue what to do with it. I got it several months ago because my friend and I were going to learn how to play but never did. The fact that I never use it didn't bother me until about a month ago. I was cleaning out the trunk of my car and found it again, where it had been since like September when I failed at my first attempt at tennis. Well, ever since then, I just HAD to take tennis lessons.

I looked online and found a place that offered them and so I signed up. Well, last night, I took my first lesson. I was so excited. I went with my pretty pink racquet in hand, just waiting to display what I thought would be my one true natural talent. So, Coach Mike (which I was hoping would be a hot, blonde, 20-something, Swedish guy, but no such luck) showed us forehand and backhand stroke and then set up the practice tee. I was the fourth person "up to bat." I took my ready-stance...circled my swing...and "Clank," I hit the metal part of the tee with my pretty pink racquet instead of the ball. Coach Mike demonstrated the so-called "correct" way to hit the ball and encouraged my to try again. So, I wind up and "CLANK," I hit the tee again but this time even harder. Coach Mike just smiles and says maybe I'll get the hang of it when he starts hitting balls to us--it was a pity smile.

I was a little shocked; how dare I not be wonderful at something! To make matters worse, when I went back to stand with the group, I inspected my pretty pink racquet and there are now several dents in the frame. Stink! So, I watch everyone else go (some of which hit the tee even harder than I did). I did a bunch of practice swings and then I thought "ok, I SO get this now."

So then, its time for real balls. Coach Mike hits them to us...I see the neon yellow blur coming towards me...I get anxious...I swing...and all I get is air. A few more air balls go by; at this point, I'm starting to think that tennis may not be my forte. Coach Mike hits another ball to me, and I hit it almost perfectly (well, relatively perfectly)! After that, I had only one more air ball. He said that I just kept getting better, and I said, "Well, just look where I had to start from...anything is an improvement from airballs."

My next lesson is Thursday. We'll see how much I retain. I have absolutely no natural rhythm, so I have to think a lot about where to put my feet and how to move my arms. Coach Mike told me to follow through with my swing and I ended up hitting my own backside with the racquet. I'm not the worst one, I'm somewhere in the middle. There are these two older "Plano-ie" women (aka trophy wives) wearing these cutesy little tennis skirts showing everyone else up (okay, maybe that's just jealousy talking because I suck at tennis), but still, I have to know that I can actually hit the ball before I sink anymore money into tennis. I'll keep you posted on my progress!

Don't I Feel Dumb...

Here's a riddle:

If you were running a race and you passed the runner in second place, what place would you be in?

Gracie: the Best Dog Ever!

This is my dog, Gracie (who could not love those ears). She literally is the best dog anyone could ever ask for, unless you want a dog that will kill things (which I used to think I did) because she is the friendliest dog ever. I adopted her from a rescue organization in Dallas called A Different Breed. No one is sure what kind of dog she is. Some say German Shepherd mix, others say blue heeler, catahoula, pit bull...Everyone has there own opinion. I just say that she's a mix of adorable and perfect...I think that covers her well.

She does a myriad of tricks. She can sit, lay down, roll over (her favorite--she spins around in circles on her bottom and then flips herself over on her back, its great), high-five (on three different levels), shakes with both paws and knows which paws you are asking for, speaks on command, and catches her treats in the air (if she doesn't catch it then she won't go pick it up, she'll wait for me to throw it again. I swear she understands English. I tell her something and she does it. Truly a very smart and pretty dog.



She was kind of an impulse buy. I was driving and saw a sign that said pet adoptions. I was talking to a friend on the phone and told him that I was gonna go look at the puppies. He told me not to get one and I said that he was crazy, I didn't need a dog right now. Well, 30 minutes later I was lifting her into my car (not so much a puppy--5 months old, 35 pounds and huge paws, which only meant that she would get bigger).



After a kinda rocky beginning (because I was moving at the time that I got her), she turned out to be the best smartest, happiest, most obedient dog. She had kinda a few little problems though. She gets anxiety attacks and makes herself throw up. She's gotten a lot better about it and she has medication. The vet thinks that she might have been mistreated as a puppy and that a lot of rescue dogs have those kinds of problems. She hangs her head and cowers in the corner everytime I pick up a water bottle. I've never hit her with a water bottle but to this day she reacts every time.



Anyway, on to the happy stuff. She's sooo smart. She was housebroken in less than a week and had also learned her first trick. I kept her in a kennel during the day, and all I would have to say is "go home" and she would go! I've never had a good dog before. Growing up we just had disobedient or mean dogs, and you spend more time punishing them and being mad at them then playing with them. She is also so friendly and gentle with kids, but some times she doesn't realize her own strength, especially in her tail.



Anyway, she is wonderful and like my child (I guess that makes me a single mom, yikes!), so I will talk about her a lot. About 75% of the pictures on my camera are of her (though I am not as bad as Kara). Even though she's kind of a spaz sometimes, she's my spaz and I love her!

So, no Sudoku puzzle today(what to do?)...I usually pick it up downstairs at the deli but I think he might have taken the day off for Memorial Day weekend because it was closed this morning. Wish I could do that, too.

I'm soooooo tired again today. My friend Ashley is in town from Austin this week and we've been living like we just turned 21 for the past couple of days. I'm old, I need my sleep. Last night we went to this dive bar that we would go to on Thursdays when she lived here because its $2-you-call-its. I call it a dive bar because I cringe every time I have to touch something, always leave reeking of cigarette smoke and with second-hand emphysema, avoid eye contact with most questionable patrons, and would never dream of going there without my mace...but its fun!

There are SOME normal people there, but the following story is not representative of that fact. Ashley and I were playing pool, and this creepy, leering man came and sat at a table near us. He would not stop watching us and I was getting really uncomfortable, and thanks to Ashley's small bladder and my very painful but very cute shoes (Thank you, Kara...I got a lot of compliments on them) I was left alone a lot. My strategy in that situation is to get on the phone and have a fake conversation (don't laugh, it works).

So, finally the creepy man gets up from the table and leaves the room. We finish playing pool and go sit down and guess who shows up again--the Creepy Man. He asks Ashley something like if we are having fun and she says yes and he says, "So, ya'll want to go have fun with me and my boys?" And, she's like, "Uhm, we'll pass," but really has that phrase ever worked for any guy. I don't care if you are Conan O'Brien (for you other people you might replace that name with Brad Pitt, etc.) , if you use that line you will get shot down every time. And, why are creepy guys the most brazen? They seem to have all the confidence in the world but absolutely no game.

Also, another fun thing about going to this bar is "critiquing" other people's outfits. Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those mean girls that makes fun of other girls. Its just that sometimes you see things that are just so terribly wrong and you have to pay attention to it, negative or otherwise. I'm sure that people have said something about me before (I've let my bra straps hang out on occasion), but I've got nothing on these girls. Once there, I saw a woman in her fifties dressed head-to-toe in shredded black leather...singing karaoke...with an old man grinding against her. How could someone see that and not comment? Regardless of whether or not it makes me a bitch, its still entertaining.

Ok, so I get pretty bored at work & needed something to occupy my idle time. So, after I've finished the Sudoku puzzle for the day, I will tell all of you about my wonderfully interesting, surprisingly dramatic life. Enjoy!