National Night Out (video)

Today, Emily was on the news. She's modest about it. She didn't even tell me she was going to do it. In fact, she forgot about it because she was helping our neighbors move. I'm less modest about her and openly think she's smart and sexy.

Check out the video. And send her a message - it'll make her feel uncomfortable.

Memory Lane

Remember this, Warren?

Baking Cookies

Step 1: Cream shortening and sugars; add eggs, water, vanilla and mix. Add dry ingredients and chocolate chips.

Step 2: Shape dough into 1" balls. Place 2" apart on a greased cookie sheet.

Step 3: Bake at 325 degrees F for 12-15 minutes. Serve.

Ultimate

My sister Liz is visiting us for the summer, and she brought with her a passion for Ultimate Frisbee--a passion she is diligently attempting to pass on to my daughter. Here is Diana's first foray into the world of Frisbee:

I've got just the thing

A problem? Great! I have the solution! Lose your keys? Lost-key paging devices. Miss an assignment at school? Get a palm pilot. It solved all my problems. Lonely? There should never be more than two lonely people. Stop complaining and go find someone.

So, go ahead, I'm listening.

Please, no need to go on. I already understand. It's a simple thing really. (So simple, I'm a little surprised you would bring it up. Good thing I'm patient.) I've seen it many times. This is what you should do. Tell you what, I'll even help.

Really? You don't like the idea? That's ridiculous. Can you hear yourself talking? The flaws in your arguments only support me and make you look, honestly, a little foolish. Maybe you didn't hear me--let me say that again. Clearer this time.

Why wouldn't she listen? So stubborn. Just not willing. I did my part.

I guess I could have said it that way. Yes, those words are preciser. That's what I really meant to say. This intonation could have made it sharper. If only I had said that, she would have seen clearer. I'm more convinced than ever. This is what she needs to do, or she'll miss out.

Don't worry, I'll make sure to bring it up next time. She'll thank me.

several months and counting...

Today was my five-months-since-radiation, eight-months-since-chemo, and four-months-since-the-last-doctor's appointment doctor's appointment. As this qualifies as a significant milestone in the life of any former cancer-care consumer, I am providing an update on the status of my health.

I just did a personal evaluation, and it's not all that great. One day before my 25th birthday, and I can only struggle through 2 push-ups, 10 sit-ups, and absolutely no pull-ups. This is especially depressing when you compare it to the National Physical Fitness Standards for children: Fifty percent of six-year-old girls can do 6 push-ups, 23 curl ups, and 1 pull-up. I am put to shame.

It shouldn't be a surprise. My only exercise is watering my plants, which I do sporadically, and my diet consists mostly of ice cream bars and frozen egg rolls. But on a lighter note: five months since radiation, eight months since chemo, and four months since the last doctor's appointment, I am still cancer-free. You may all celebrate by buying me a gym membership.

For the marriage

After Diana went to bed, we got in the car. We got there early and sat in the waiting room. When we met him, we all sat on couches and talked. He wanted to know why we were there at this time of our lives. We explained that we weren't getting any less busy and just decided to do it. I guess that answer didn't satisfy him. He pulled out some written surveys. What are the top five reasons you are here? Social anxiety? Marriage problems? Self confidence? What kind of music do you listen to? Ryan had to know to be able to help us, but the questions seemed strangely uncomfortable. We just wanted to have fun. Isn't that why everyone signs up for dance classes?

They wouldn't tell us their prices on the internet or the phone. And they wouldn't tell us in person until after the lesson, so we knew it would be expensive and we knew this lesson was a sales pitch. But, it was fun anyway. First, he convinced us that we could dance by having us walk forward, backward, left and right - while holding his hand. By the time it was over, Emily and I could do the a waltz box step (albeit stiff) and the six steps for a simple under the arm spin. Emily was accused of excellent rhythm and I was treated fragile - he probably assumed that I was dragged there. It was fun and we finished filling out a lesson report card.

We'll do it again, but we probably won't drop out of school and tap into our 401K. We're just not that dedicated.