Today's post could start out just like yesterday's, because I am totally listening to the Walk the Line soundtrack (yes, again, or should I say, STILL) AND I'm at work but it's not about to rain and I'm totally not thinking about you. So there. Ha. Also, I am a liar.
What I really want to do tonight is wallow. Sit in my pajamas and watch Breakfast at Tiffany's (or better yet, last night's episode of The Office because how awesome was that?) and go over and over things in my head until I wish I had several bottles of wine in the near vicinity to drown out my stupid, obsessive thoughts. Not really being one to wallow (ha!), I am instead going out. Because it's Cinco de Mayo. And, even after several years of Spanish classes, I'm still not really sure what that means. Other than half-price margaritas chock-full of tequila. And refillable baskets of chips and salsa. Not both in the basket, though, because that would be messy and the chips would get all soggy and who wants to eat soggy tortilla chips? Not me. Sidenote, I pronounced "tortilla" like "tortill-ya" until high school. Not sure why I shared that. I guess to let you all know that I wasn't always the witty sophisticate you see before you.
Last Sunday, my roommate, Heidi, and I bought tennis rackets. Cheap ones, because pretty much the only thing we know about tennis is you hit the ball with your racket over and over. I bought mine with one of several gift certificates I received for my birthday, all of which were spent in record time. And in the case of Half-Price Books, I spent double what the gift certificate was. It's OK, though, because I got a free tote bag (purple) for spending more than $30. It was like two presents in one! FYI, do not go into that store with me unless you are prepared to spend a great amount of time there because I go through the aisles at least twice and I totally look at every book on every shelf. Also, don't judge me if I drool because so many cheap, cheap books in one place gets me a little excited.
ANYWAY. So. We bought tennis rackets. And tennis balls. Pink ones. The pink ones cost more, but they're so pretty. We played tennis for the first time on Monday night. It was not as pretty as our pink balls (that's what she said, tee and hee). I think we made contact with the ball on about 1 out of 5 swings. Also, there are two courts but we've decided that we are not allowed to play if someone else is on the other one. Not only because of our really embarrassing tennis "skills," but because we tend to use both courts equally even if we're concentrating very hard on just using the one. Watch out, Williams sisters.
Last night we played again and I have to say we improved remarkably. Although, to be fair, I don't think we could have gotten any worse. Our skills were so stellar that we were hooted at by some guys in a Jeep. Nice, boys, my self-esteem thanks you.
Heidi's boyfriend Nick and his roommate apparently play tennis all the time and for some reason that I cannot fathom Heidi told Nick that she and I were really excellent tennis players. I asked her what was going to happen when Nick and his roommate want to play us and her answer? "One of us will be sick that day." Very convenient. This all could have been avoided if she had just told him that we suck, but maybe we can put off this match long enough to improve enough not to embarrass ourselves. You know. On the tennis court, anyway. Because Heidi and I plus half-price margaritas will lead to one or both of us embarrassing ourselves in some way. And I can't wait. (I think it's her weekend, though, because I totally took care of embarrassing myself last weekend.)
Also, I'm wearing this shirt today, which I'm pretty excited about because it should make standing in line at the post office later really interesting but mostly because it's fucking awesome.
See? This is me. Not wallowing.
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