I'm tempted to change my URL.
But then, you see, that means I have to stop being lazy.
And I'm not prepared for that mind-boggling thing to happen yet.
SO.
Yes. I'm a middle kid.
Yeah, read the post down there -points down- It'll explain everything. well, most of it, anyway.
...Maybe I';ll talk more about my tennis court.
It'll probably give you some insight as to what Samchong turns into on Saturday afternoons.
This is who we are: minus lots of people.



Michele, Jhensen, Kwang, VChien,
Vcher, Christine. All looking at the birthday cake.

we're missing:
Ivy, Indy, me, ChienMing (who wasn't even taking lessons at the time), Shaun, Selina, and Lee.

A sample of our tennis family, that's what it is.
We whack balls at each other, hit each other in the ribs, (I'm SORRY, but who asked YOU to stand so near to me while I was serving? TWICE?) and break tennis cones.
We also manage to lose a couple hundred tennis balls a month.

Plus injuries. ("Wei, must serve so hard ah? Nanti people breaktheir arms then you know!" Usually this comment is directed at Jhensen and Shaun, because they seriously serve hard.) Or maybe when we all hit lousy shots? ("Sam, I hate you!" So said ChienMing when I gave him a drop shot and he fell down trying to take it. Sorry, CM. Im just too good.)
The girls gossip. ("What?! No, I don't like him!" so said SOMEBODY when teased.)
The guys...well, they're guys.
Nicknames: ("Why, you little...! COME BACK HERE!" I seem to remember myself running aftr Lee, trying to murder that brat of a ten year old kid. Haah.)

well, when I think of more exciting stories, I'll update this blog.

Aloha.
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