first list of goals

Steps to becoming a future tennis star:

get tennis coach - check
immediately start working really hard at lessons - check
develop kick-butt backhand - in progress
get cute white tennis skirt uniform thing - needs attention
buy tennis racket - needs attention
acquire tennis ball for practice - check

I'm sure more things will get added to this list as I go. This was just to start me off. Haven't I made fantastic progress for having just started playing tennis yesterday? Yes, I'm sure it is only a matter of a few short months until I'm chillin' with Andre Agassi and other tennis pros. My coach is indeed a lot older and he kind of looks like a light haired Tom Sellack. Plus he has a really strong accent. I thought about telling him how it was his lucky day and soon he would be almost as famous as me, simply for being my coach. But I don't want him to give me any special treatment so I didn't say anything. His name is Lubush and he's already yelled at me a whole bunch of times. It's just like in the movies! Apparently I am not an instant prodigy - but that's okay. I'm sure the prodigy-ness will kick in soon. And I don't mind a few months of hard work. My coach seemed really impressed with my progress by the end of the hour. Even though he wouldn't let me hit the ball any more because I kept putting it in the next court and the old rich people playing there were getting kind of upset. "Jeest touch ze ball - do not heet eet" he kept saying. (Note - he doesn't have a French accent, I don't actually know what kind of accent it is, but that is the only one I can sort of write out. Meh, close enough.)

There are two other people in my class. Ian and Kerie. They are both males in their late 30's and they play pretty good. I think, for the first little while until I get really good, they will be good to practice with.

I also already bled. That's a sure sign of being a hardcore athlete. To bleed during your sport and not complain about it. For some reason my mouth started bleeding again - I figured a stitch must have come out from my wisdom tooth surgery. Anyway, I didn't know what to do. Can one spit on a tennis course? Even if that is proper edicate, I hate spitting. I think it's gross. So I swallowed it instead in my attempt to be hardcore. Now I know what it must be like to be a boxer. I bet they bleed a lot in their mouths and have to swallow it.

So anyway - top priorities before my next lesson are to acquire a racket and to keep working on my backhand (which is coming along very nicely now that I've stopped trying to hit the ball and only "touch eet").

future tennis prodigy

I am taking tennis lessons! First one is tonight. I just know I am going to love it and find it was a waste I wasn't playing all these years.

What with other people at work taking all the holiday time I wanted this summer (no camps - sigh), getting my wisdom teeth out and using it an excuse to sulk and have a pity party for an entire week, stupid boys (ok, maybe not stupid, just boys in general even), and the extensive lack of motivation for anything besides eating and watching Battlestar Galactica or Monarch of the Glen with Ky, I figured I better do something quick or I was gonna have a crappy summer. So I decided to take matters into my own hands and do something I have always wanted to do. I phoned around and found a place where I can take a few group lessons for not too much money. If I decide that I like it, I might even sign up for the slightly price-ier private lessons. Sounds like the instructor is older. But he has an accent. So this could be an enjoyable summer endevour. I shall keep you posted.

Actual call to 911

Dispatcher: "911."
Caller: "Help! Help! Send the police! I been shot."
Dispatcher: "You said you've been shot?"
Caller: "I been shot!"
Dispatcher: "How many times were you shot?"
Caller: "This is the first time."

Yes, I am that retarded

I have to tell you a story* about a girl** who got caught up in drugs.

They gave me 3 different prescriptions between the antibiotics and the painkillers after the teeth surgery was finished this weekend. I hate taking pills and happened to mention this fact to the doctor dude cuting up my mouth so he gave me all liquid prescriptions. Mistake number 1.

The one narcotic prescription had a dosage of approximately 3ml. It was the both the best for the pain and the best in taste, but after taking it I was not supposed to drive due to potential dizziness. I found 3ml did the job more than well enough - and it would even leave me a bit nauseous as previously mentioned. So yes, 3ml was plenty good enough even though I was technically allowed to take a little*** more if I wanted.

Of the other 2 prescriptions, I was to take 10ml.

On the fateful day (yesterday) I decided to venture back to work which involved driving. Therefore, throughout the day I took a couple 10ml servings of the antibiotic and the non-narcotic anti-inflammatory prescriptions. But when I returned home for the evening, I happily filled up the little dosage-administering-thingy and took some or the good pain stuff. I hardly even thought about it. I was just so glad to be able to collapse onto my new couch and relax for the evening. Mistake number 2.

Lesson learned - always pay attention when taking narcotics. After about 15 minutes I turned to my lovely roomate Ky and giggling said, "I think I overdosed on my medication." As more and more feeling left my body I remembered that I actually filled up the dosage-administering-thingy to the top instead of stopping at 3ml. I TOOK 3 TIMES THE NORMAL DOSAGE! At first I wasn't too concerned about it - in fact I wasn't too concerned about anything. And I felt really funny, but really good. Then I recollected how nauseous a small amount of this stuff could make me feel and how a lot of this stuff might be even worse. I decided to be responsible and phone the pharmacy. They basically said that the effect of an overdose could be that my breathing reflex would stop - so as long as I didn't stop breathing, I'd be fine. No duh. Thanks pharmacy people. I really didn't figure that I'd taken enough to actually really harm myself, but just to be on the safe side I gave Ky a quick verbal lesson in artifical respiration. Then I let myself relax for the rest of the wonderful hour until the nausea hit. Then I whined and complained and alternated between laying on the couch, the floor of the living room and the floor of the bathroom. T'was a fun night. And my favourite Ky was the best pal ever and watched six hours of Monarch of the Glen with me until the effects had worn off and I was ready for bed.

So that's my story friends. And it behooves me to repeat a little diddy I remember from my childhood.

"Don't you put it in your mouth" (echo)
"Don't you stuff it in your face" (echo)
"Though it might look good to eat" (echo)
"And it might look good to taste" (echo)

"You could get sick"
"Real sick"
"Real sick, real quick"
"Real ick"

Laters.


*Story based on true events.
**All names and identities have remained the same to expose the stupidity of the girl involved.
***As in an extra half mil or so.

I hear the snickering

First day back at work. They are all laughing at my face.

I think I am too vain for this to be bothering me this much.

Pure fat cheeks

Have you ever seen the movie Pure Luck? There is a scene in it where Martin Short gets stung by a bee and looks similar to the above picture.

Anyhoo. This, friends, is how my face looks. It is very embarassing to look like a male actor in make-up and a fat suit. Especially an actor you don't even like (with the exception of his work in Father of the Bride. I love him as Franck).

But look like him I do. Sigh.

Remember, this is from a girl who usually won't even take a regular strength Tylenol unless it's absolutely necessary.

So this narcotic that the doctor prescribed is awesome. Yes, it makes me a bit nauceous (still don't know how to spell that word correctly) but it also makes my teeth stop hurting and it makes me dizzy. Which I have to admit, is kind of fun. Like being on an amusement park ride all the time.

I know there is a guy out in blog land who is starting up this big pirate adventure thing. I wonder if he needs a ship's doctor. Now that I have all this extensive experience with narcotics, maybe I could apply for the position. Hmmm.

Oh, and you guys would laugh your head off if you could see me. My cheeks are about 40 times their normal size.

Okay, wave of nausea - time to go back to the couch.