had my first tennis lesson today. for an hour and 30 minutes my mind was cleared of all thoughts but the racket, the ball heading my way and how not to embarrass myself being in a class wit 7 other 'kids' ages ranging between 7-14. nice!

being in a class filled wit kids is nothing less than testing. try major humiliation. 

the nxt lesson is individual. amen!

my coach is a funny funny lil man.

my foot work is officially shit!

coach says i hit too hard. i can't friggin control it. must be the muscles. grin.

i am so nvr gonna get the whole serving thing. call it un-co or watever. i'm complicated.

my wrist hurts. my badminton habits prove hazardous.

i haven't sweated like 'this' in such long time.

kids talk too much.

i feel the pounds being shed! or at least i hope.

i need a massage.

i think my right arm might being getting bigger than the other.

i enjoyed it.

i need rest - now!

I heart my Ve. Plain and simple. No elaborations needed!

Her every quirk, every oddness, every tinge, every laughter, every snort, every burp, every fart, every sway…

The way she smiles when she's embarrass, the way she smiles when she's surprised, the way she smiles when she's horny, the way she smiles when she's lying, the way walks like an ostrich, the way she gets her countries mixed up, the way she speaks her canto, the way shouts n screams...

Whether she’s makin me laugh, annoying me, angry at me, irritating me, cranky, loud, being totally random, being utmost inconsiderate (grin*), prancing around… whatever!

I heart her left, right n centre…

Smile.

Currently Reading Area 7 By Matthew Reilly see related

My heart beats at my throat.

My temperature’s rising.

Breathing but suffocating.

Stomach churning.

Cheeks flushed.

NUFF SAID! What on earth is happening to me?

Fuck it, I should’ve kissed him!