Something was seriously wrong today. I was DYING out there, from the way I was utterly pouring sweat and the way I seemed to have completely forgotten how to hit a tennis ball. I cannot begin to count the number of times I swore out loud, the number of times I mis-hit the ball (off both wings - brilliant), the number of times I hit the ball with the racquet frame, not the racquet head. Brilliant stuff. Seriously brilliant.
I rushed the net a number of times today, usually off a very bad mis-hit that somehow turned into a super lame approach shot, when I sensed that Thx U was likely to hit back a short ball. Of course, being me, I was wrong a number of times. During those number of times, Thx U either passed me completely (for one of those I actually reached for the ball. I'm quite proud of myself for doing that, instead of standing there like an idiot, watching the ball fly past me) or lobbed the shit out of me. He hit this amazing lob that landed just inside the baseline, and all I could do then was turn back and watch the ball bounce in, then applaud.
There were also a couple of times, though, that I was actually ready: grip changed to continental, mentally focused, ready to take on whatever Thx U threw at me. So when what he threw at me were balls dumped into a net, there was really nothing I could do. Once he hit the ball over to me while I was ready at the net, and I actually managed to volley it back...but it landed a few cm outside the singles sideline.
THAT WAS SO PAINFUL. IT REALLY WAS. That would've been a hell of a memorable shot if it'd been in, because I actually knew what I was doing. How rare is that? How rare is it for me to not completely panic at the net and use my brain, right? I KNOW.
That missed shot deserved a vulgarity and I'm pretty sure I served that one up plenty.
On the bright side, I'm pretty pleased with myself that I successfully executed a drop-shot and a drive volley. I think I've unwittingly played some drop-shots before, but NEVER consciously. Today, I consciously tried a drop-shot, and I made it. That was SO incredible. Thx U had a taste of his own medicine for once, watching the ball drop so short over the net and having absolutely no time to run forward and try to hit it back.
The drive volley was quite cool too. Of course I hit it off a very awkward return from Thx U who was chasing down some shit I mis-hit (I think I mis-hit some stupid backhand; ball hit the frame. RETARDED), but it was still a successful fucking drive volley. YESSSS.
My groundstrokes were absolutely nothing to crow about. Nothing worked today, not even the backhand. I missed many shots that I absolutely didn't think I should've missed: I particularly like returning super low and fast balls off the backhand side, and I missed a lot of those today. I can usually return low balls off the forehand side too, but today it was frame after frame after frame. Absolutely lovely.
I was very annoyed with myself. It got worse when this group of NUS students to my right started hitting their balls to my court. There were a couple of girls playing - "playing" - and one has to wonder...okay, I was going to say something mean but I take it back. All I'm going to say is...okay, I take THAT back too. Forget it, I'm not going to comment. Today was a bad day for me anyway.
Also, I totally forgot my wristband, and because of that I was all out of sorts and irritated initially. I'm very used to be able to wipe off my sweat (and I sweat quite a fair amount) with the wristband; it's more comfortable that way, and I never play without it ever since I started playing with it. Today, I forgot to bring it. And today, it just so happened that I was particularly sweaty. I was literally dripping with sweat and it was so gross, but the worst part was having no wristband to wipe it off. SO ANNOYING. I shall never forget my wristband again.
(It's a hassle going to the chair and fetching the towel and wiping my sweat. If only I had ball boys and towel girls fetching these things for me. Wait, I have a boyfriend...haha kidding.)
In other news, on Monday Tong and I went to this cafe that sells Vietnamese white coffee near our place. When I got into the cab and looked at him, the first thing I noticed was that his shirt did not have a Ralph Lauren logo. It also did not have a Fred Perry logo.
I thought, wow, is he wearing some cheap brand? So I asked him about it, and he said something about how he doesn't always buy shirts from RL and FP because they were expensive.
Then he said he bought the shirt from Guess.
HAHAHA. He qualified that by saying how it wasn't cheap (I rejected this qualification), and to that I said, "I only shop at Guess during the sale."
I am 100% amazed that I'm dating someone who spends more than me. My grandma was always telling me not to spend so much in case I scared away the good boys because they'd take one look at the way I spend money and run away, tails tucked between their legs.
Turned out her fears were unjustified. And if I'm being honest, I'd much rather date someone who spends more than me than someone who spends less. Not because I'm interested in his money, but because I wouldn't be able to stand it when my boyfriend is nagging at me to stop buying things. I get that too much from my parents, thank you.
(In case my writing is too crap to make sense, what I'm saying is that my grandma's fears were unjustified because I have found a good boy who spends more than me. Yay.)
In more Tong news, last night we went out after his squash training. I drove. It was a milestone in itself because I drove. And I drove us to Orchard Hotel, parked the car, found no eating place, then drove us to Holland Village. Oh my god, right? I know. I was shocked when I could find my own way to his place, even more shocked when I got there in less than 15 minutes.
I hope he wasn't too freaked out by the way I drive though. It's kind of funny actually. When I have another person in the car, I usually am conscious of the fact that the person is there, and therefore I should try to control my haphazardly organised driving. And I usually do, but it unnerves me which is why I usually don't drive when there's another person in the car (usually).
When Tong was sitting next to me last night, it was kind of as if he wasn't there, and in an entirely good way. Maybe it's further testament to the amazing level of comfort I feel around him, such that I wasn't too concerned about whether or not he'd find my driving scary. Of course now I hope he didn't, but when I was driving, I just drove the way I usually drove. And I got him home in one piece, so clearly I must've done something right.
Lastly, I'd SO totally already made up my mind to buy the limited edition Roger Federer #15 cap, which I saw yesterday but didn't order because it was $10 more than the usual RF cap...but when I went to order it just now, I discovered that it's OUT OF STOCK.
OMG I AM SO DEPRESSED. The limited edition shirt is, first, only for men (ALL the Federer Nike t-shirts are only for men. SEXIST BASTARDS), and second, fug-ass as hell. The cap, on the other hand, looked pretty, with the number 15 stitched in gold against the white base of the cap.
I WANT IT. WHY IS IT GONE? I AM SO DEPRESSED NOW.
Oh, and I haven't done the bloody Criminal Procedure tutorial. Great, one more reason to be depressed. SIGH.
I haven't watched any tennis in the longest time. I'm totally dying. Can't wait for Montreal! Hope Roger wins it with Nadal in contention. YES.