Annihilation by retarded, non-existent forehand.
written: 10:33 p.m. on Thursday, Jul. 16, 2009

I mean, if I'd never once taken the bus to NUS for class, it doesn't make sense for me to take the bus there to play tennis, right? I know.

But things eventually worked out. I whined to Tong about having no car and how I felt like playing tennis, and it turned out he was planning to play squash at NUS, and in the end he went down with me (via taxi lah of course). YAY. My boyfriend is, like, totally the best. And because he's Tong, and because I know him, I didn't even bother complaining about his lateness. Actually, truth be told, I didn't mind at all, or even cared, or even thought about it, because he didn't have to go down with me. But he did.

(I tend to peg my expectations really low, such that sometimes they're non-existent. But it works for me, so there you go.)

I actually enjoy playing tennis with Mr. Thx U despite my poking fun at him (privately, that is) all the time. He's really good, and when he plays amazing shots, I'm genuinely impressed. Not to say I don't get super irritated when he suddenly drops a ball fucking short, just tipping it over the net, when I'm all the way at the fucking baseline; but I'm very proud to say that I've learned to figure him out and read when he's going to play a drop shot, so a lot of times today he totally failed to drop me, because I'd be ready to run forward and hit the ball back.

YESSS. Once I made a forehand up-the-line passing winner. Mostly without knowing how, of course, but at least the instincts got it right. I also successfully ran around the forehand multiple times today, and at this rate my forehand is going to completely die and I'd only know how to hit one shot.

Actually, what am I saying? My forehand is dead. I swear, it is dead. I seriously don't know what the fuck is going on with it. I hit so many retarded shots off that wing today that I was swearing to myself like nobody's business. Seriously, I think Mr. Thx U was alarmed. It was 'wah lau', then 'shit', then 'FUCK!', then 'what the FUCK', then 'oh my GOD what the FUCK'. If it'd been NUS Wall Guy, he would've scolded the shit out of me by then (last time I said 'shit' too loudly and he told me not to swear on court HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA). It was even worse when I attempted to switch to continental when the ball appeared to be flying high enough for me to smash it back, but the ball either bounced too low (and thereby rendering me unable to hit a normal groundstroke back because my grip was wrong) or I couldn't get a proper grip on the handle in time to get it back.

Bleah it sucked. I am very sad. I think I successfully managed a grand total of one topspin forehand today, which was utterly tragic. Something has to be done about this abominable atrocity because it makes tennis less enjoyable, knowing that my forehand is utter shit. Even though I play purely for fun, I have to do it right or I can't enjoy it, and I have to do it properly, hence all that hang-ups over what grip to use for what shots, my perpetual bitching over my forehand, all the swearing.

But I'm pleased that I hit one great cross-court backhand (what else?) that totally wasn't accidental, and I also hit a couple of lobs. Those were fantastic. Thx U tried to kill me at the net but I got to the ball in time and hit it back high, without actually knowing what I'm doing (but the instincts got it right! Ok I'm just making excuses for myself), and Thx U ran back to the baseline, trying to get it back, but it bounced once before he reached it, well within the baseline, and it was my lob winner. YAY!

We had to leave at 7 sharp 'cause there were two guys waiting for the court (they waited from 6.40 - seriously) and I went off to the squash courts to look for Tong.

Before that, I'd like to give a shout-out to the four uncles who were using MY court at 5 (I was late by 30 minutes), and when I got there at 5.20 and politely informed them that I'd booked the fucking thing from 5 to 7, the fucking uncles didn't believe me and acted like I was some criminal. The one I talked to went, "What time did you book? You book this court is it?"

Seriously, please clean up your grammatically-flawed English. He started asking Thx U what time it was, to which Thx U replied it was 5.20. I said again that I'd booked the court from 5 to 7, and then one other uncle at the other side chimed in. He went, "Boy, what time is it now?"

BOY? BOY? If Thx U were my boyfriend, I'd fucking yell at that rude piece of shit. If he'd called me "girl" or some shit, I would've lost my temper with him. It took me remarkable self-control not to lose my temper with those fucking uncles - ESPECIALLY when the one I was talking to actually had the cheek to suggest that we took the then-empty Court 13, to our left.

Why the hell do I have to take that damn court when I booked Court 12, and when YOU are standing on MY court? Besides, who the fuck were these uncles and what bloody business did they have playing tennis at NUS? Clearly they weren't students, and if they were lecturers, oh my god, I'd seriously fear for the standard of education at my alma mater (uh actually law school is my alma mater, not NUS).

Fucking retarded jokers. They seriously thought they could push Thx U and me around just because they were older than us? Seriously? Too bad for them they messed with the wrong bitch. Thx U is a super nice person and that also makes him a bit meek, so perhaps he was liable to being pushed around; but not me. When I get into full bitch mode, not even four old uncles will be able to get their ways.

One more thing to bitch about before I move on: I hate to say this, but oh my god, those three PRCs that eventually occupied Court 13 were so annoying. One of my super old balls rolled astray and one of them pointed at it and asked if it was mine. I said it was; I could clearly see the faded RF I wrote on the ball (please don't ask me why I wrote Roger's initials on my balls and not my own. Now I've taken to writing 'lan' in Chinese on my balls). But the woman didn't believe me and proceeded to stare at it, nevermind that I used Wilson and they used Dunlop.

Seriously, if you don't even know the fucking brand of the tennis balls you use, if you can't even tell a Wilson apart from a Dunlop, you have no business playing tennis. Please stop trying to steal my balls. I am extremely territorial about my tennis balls because they are really not cheap, so get your hands off my fucking tennis balls, thank you.

I won't complain about how the balls from the courts to the left and right kept flying to mine 'cause a lot of my shots were haywire today (especially the backhands I rushed through and ended up being way too early for) so yep, I'm done with the bitching section. Moving on now.

I had no idea where the squash courts were and it took me a while to find them. I was in time to watch Tong play two sets. No one read out the score (he played with one of his friends) and so I had no idea what was going on, score-wise; when he came out after the first (actually fourth), I had to ask, "What happened?"

He said, nonchalantly (actually I think he was just really tired HAHA), "I won."

He sat around for a bit, then went back in for the last set. That one ended REALLY fast and I didn't have to ask what happened because it was plenty obvious, even to me. He's so poor thing right? I know.

I actually legitimately and genuinely enjoy watching him play squash. I find him extremely sexy when he's playing (apparently now I have a thing for fit, sporty guys who are not tanned), and it's fun to watch him do something he enjoys. And he's actually good at it so that makes it even better.

Okay I'm going stop writing now before I start grossing people out, so yay!

I have EFS tomorrow. Will be at the Supreme Court from 10 a.m. to 8 p.m. Like, oh my god, I totally can't wait, /sarcasm.

I was bitching about it to Tong over dinner and I bitched myself into a bad mood. How retarded. He made me feel better though.

I'm totally wearing one of my old long skirts tomorrow because I'm sick of jeans, and there's just no way I'm wearing formal. That's reserved for Saturday, for which I don't have a choice anyway. Saturday's another sian-ass long day ARGHHH gonna write myself into a bad mood again. Fuck, forget it. Going to post this now.

*

ETA:

Tong and I ate at a coffee shop tonight (partly because I refused to shower at NUS' gross toilets) for the first time ever. He said he felt weird eating cheap food with me.

It was great actually. I hope we get to go to coffee shops more often. I don't know why; I'm not usually a fan, but...with him, it really doesn't matter.

before sunrise // before sunset

Previously:
- - Tuesday, Aug. 29, 2017
I'm moving. - Sunday, Jul. 11, 2010
In all honesty - Tuesday, Jul. 06, 2010
What I want for my birthday... - Sunday, Jul. 04, 2010
On Roger's behalf. - Friday, Jul. 02, 2010