All I’ve been doing is frantically trying to preserve my vacation memories on here, but there is daily life crap that I want to also preserve because you know me and my memories, PICTURE THIS BLOG AS A CANNING FACTORY FOR MEMORY PRESERVES.
Now “preserves” doesn’t sound right to me.
I think I mentioned last week that Chooch and I were demo’ing three rackets from Tennis Warehouse. Let me back up: when Chooch came home one day in June and said, “Hi, I play tennis now,” we weren’t about to run out and get him some great racket, you know? Henry took him to Dick’s and he got some $30 or $40 Head racket, which is fine for a true beginner. And then when I decided on a whim to also get a racket and see if tennis was still my thing, I bought an EVEN CHEAPER racket.
Turns out, I haven’t lost all of my skill and the rust flaked off me (that was gross, I do apologize) much faster than I imagined. And Chooch, which still a beginner, has shown that he has a natural ability for tennis! Plus, neither of us got tired of it all summer and were playing like fucking maniacs. Which meant we outgrew our rackets VERY QUICKLY. I was getting frustrated because I wasn’t able to fucking WHALE the ball back with as much power as I knew I had in me, and my serves were gross.
Henry kept frowning every time we complained because I think he thought we just wanted better rackets for a status thing. But then my brother told us about the demo program. I was lowkey worried that even with a better racket, my game wouldn’t elevate. But holy shit guys, the moment I had a real racket in my hands again, it was like Erin v.1995 was BACK. Chooch was playing a lot better too and that was all the confirmation we needed to know that an investment needed to be made.
We sadly sent the rackets back yesterday BUT we bought the two that we each had imprinted on. I went with my old fall-back of Prince: once a Prince girly, always a Prince girly. Chooch went with a Babolat and it is truly eye candy. At first, Henry wasn’t on board with spending this amount of cash on rackets and told Chooch that if he wanted the Babolat, he better get a jobolat (joke’s on Henry because while we were in Chicago, Chooch was back in Pgh making moves and landed himself a job at Chipotle in the Strip lol). But I talked Henry into it because Chooch really wants to play tennis on the school team in the spring.
Anyway, last night, Chooch went to the gym so Henry went to the courts with me. My “home court” is about 20 minutes away and it pisses Henry and Chooch off so much because our ACTUAL home court is a three-minute drive from our house, in our neighborhood. I can’t help it though, I just really like Settler’s Cabin and how secluded the courts are, all nestled back by the woods. So, Henry went into coach-mode and fed me balls from across the court so I could work on my forehand and backhand, and even though I was back to playing with my fucking Barbie paddle.
This is a shit-ton of words to say that I am starting to feel like I still “GOT IT” when it comes to tennis and that maybe, MAYBE, I might want to join a league or something. MAYBE. I just know that I am having the best time (except for when I’m not i.e. when CHOOCH is being a shit) out on the court again and I feel so excited every time 5:30 rolls around and I get to log off and go play.
Plus? Wow, what a goddamn stress reliever.
In other news:
- I made Henry go see the Kang Daniel tour documentary with me a few weeks ago and it was so much fun to relive that concert! At the end, they showed all of the pictures that were taken of Kang Daniel on stage with the crowd behind him from each city, and you could totally see Henry in the Toronto one. I told Nate and he said that Henry officially needs his own IMDB page now haha.
(IT LOOKS LIKE HE’S SLEEPING, BUT HE WAS AWAKE FOR THE WHOLE THING AND NEVER EVEN LOOKED AT HIS PHONE EVEN THOUGH WE WERE THE ONLY PEOPLE IN THE THEATER.)
- Girl Buddy, drinking some fresh water, gotta stay hydrated, etc. I was REALLY pissed because Chooch’s only task while Henry and I were gone over the weekend was to feed the squirrels. He claims he did but I know he half-assed it because on Tuesday, Girl Buddy came straight-up galloping over to me to get a peanut, and she looked fully famished. I was so pissed. He knows I love those squirrels more than I love him, and he is clearly just jealous.
- When we came home from – where the fuck were we Labor Day weekend?? there was action going on outside of our house. COPS were skulking around the area, walking around the church parking lot, clearly looking for someone. I was getting really agitated about this because:
- hate me some cops
- they were talking to my neighbors down the street (all men, FYI) about what was going on and even though I kept coming outside, that courtesy was not extended to me. So, I guess I didn’t have a right to know if I should feel unsafe, etc. Perf! Great job, pigs.
Anyway, a few hours later, I looked outside and two cops cars were pulled up along the sidewalk across from my house and down a little, and they had a young black kid CUFFED. I was like, “Oh hell, not on my watch” so I ran out to the porch to supervise. I DON’T TRUST THESE PIGS. Henry was getting really antsy and kept telling me to come back in but I had my phone held out and ready to record in case it started to get SHOOTY. They eventually uncuffed the kid and he jogged back up to where his friend was waiting for him. “It’s because we’re BLACK!” he shouted to his friend, and I said REALLY LOUDLY, “Yeah, it is AND THAT’S FUCKED UP!!!!” directed toward the cops. So then, GET THIS!!! One of the cops plopped his lazy ass into his pig-carriage, drove 5 yards (I don’t know yardage but it was like basically just driving across the street), PARKED IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE, and got out. I kept standing on my porch with my arms cross and he goes, GET THIS, “Hello.” Pig, watch your filthy-ass mouth, do not DARE speak directly at me. So, you know what I said back?? “JUST MAKING SURE YOU DON’T SHOOT ANY BLACK KIDS ON MY STREET.” I could hear Henry physically crumbling on the couch behind me. “Have a nice day,” the cop said, AND THEN STRODE DOWN THE SIDEWALK ALL CASUAL-LIKE WITH HIS HANDS CLASPED BEHIND HIS BACK. Bitch fuck you and your nice day. I don’t need your toxic masculinity-coated permission to have a nice fucking day. I’ll have a nice fucking day if I want to!! Later, Henry and I went for a walk and I was still popping off about this. I just really have a huge issue with authority. Obviously.
- Dude you guys, we haven’t used the game room all summer! I mean, mostly because it was hot up there and also because we weren’t home very often. But yo, I’m trying to have some fall gatherings up in that neon bitch. Are you in or are you out. Probably not in October because I’ll be haunted housing, but definitely November. Pizza party or GTFO??
Oh shit, I gotta go – one of the coaster YouTubers from our trip just posted his vlog for the next park that I have scheduled to blog about!! I have to go and make sure I’m not in it. Ugh.