mental imagery

**Warning: Mild toilet humor ahead.**

Commercial I saw recently:

Background: Ac-tiv-i-aaahh! (music)

Jamie Lee Curtis: Recently, we asked people to film themselves at home taking the Activia challenge.

Think about it: taking the Activia challenge.

What is the Activia challenge? It's a guarantee, really. You can read about it here, if you want. The gist: Dannon guarantees that if you eat Activia every day for 14 days, your, um, toilet time will be more regular. So really, there are two steps to taking the Activia challenge. Step 1: eat Activia for 14 days. Step 2: poop.

And Activia recently asked people to film themselves at home taking the Activia challenge.

I continued to watch the commercial, and I realized that Jamie Lee Curtis didn't ask people to film themselves at home taking the Activia challenge. She asked people to film themselves talking about taking the Activia challenge. I wonder if anybody actually took Activia up on the offer, though. Be careful what you wish for, Dannon.

couch to 5k: injury fail

Two weeks ago, I started a running program called Couch to 5k. My friend Emily tweeted about it a while ago, and after looking it up, I decided to give it a try. After all, it's so appropriate, given that I sit on the couch during approximately 90% of my free time.

On my fourth day, I felt a twinge in my left knee. I decided, stupidly, to run anyway. That was seven days ago. Today, I am still limping around like an injured old lady.

My ultimate goal: to get better so I can finish Couch to 5k. The goal I'd be okay with reaching if nothing else: I'd love to be able to walk normally again.

Anybody else have any joint issues? How long before you weren't in ridiculous pain?

Sincerely,

Hobbles McGee

graduation day

I graduated from law school today. I'll post some pictures later, but for now, I wanted to let everyone who reads this know that (a) I'm sorry I haven't posted lately, and (b) it feels good to be Leah Ward, J.D.

Stay tuned for updates this week!

meet abe

I'd like you to meet our new puppy, Abraham Laboriel Ward:

We rescued Abe from Ross's parents house. Had we not, we're certain he would have been a victim of the Brenda Ward Mass Throwaway/Auction spree of 2010. And we're so glad we did.

Abe is the greatest puppy a family could ever ask for. He's quiet, he's polite, and he's very considerate. He doesn't eat much, and he's completely housebroken. He's really good at sitting and staying, too, although he does have some trouble fetching.

We'd love for you to meet Abe next time you're in our neck of the woods. (When you do, though, don't tell him he's stuffed -- he doesn't know!)

how i came to love my favorite pie

I'll admit it: though I'm definitely a foodie, I am a picky eater. A few years ago, my mom said to me, "Leah, you're the only person I know who's gotten more picky as she got older." That's certainly true. As a kid, I ate a lot of stuff I can't imagine putting in my body today. Spaghettios with meatballs. Kraft macaroni & cheese. Chicken McNuggets. Gross, gross and gross.

Like every kid, I was always afraid to try new foods. It was a battle to get me to take a bite of anything that I thought looked yucky. Especially yucky-looking to me were any foods that were brown. I just didn't dig brown stuff (exception: peanut butter, of course).

So, one Thanksgiving, when I was four or five, we were celebrating with my grandparents like we always did, and my family was feasting on pumpkin pie after the meal. My dad tried to feed me a bite, and I refused. After all, it was brown! It looked weird! Surely it would taste weird, too! My dad tried to persuade me again to take a bite, and I was uncooperative. Because he's determined, and because he knew I was a whiner, Dad tried a new tactic. Ready with a fork full of pumpkin pie, he kept badgering me to try it until I started whining about not wanting to. Then, when my mouth was open (mid-whine), he shoved the fork in my mouth.

To my dismay, I liked it. Oh no, I thought. This is really good, and I want more! But they will laugh at me if I ask for more because, just five seconds ago, I said it was yucky and I hated it! I think it was at that moment that I decided I would never let embarrassment keep me from enjoying pastries or baked goods of any kind. Sheepishly, I asked, "Can I have a piece?"

My family roared with laughter, but I didn't care. Dad was proud of me. (I think he was also a little proud of himself for discovering his new force-feeding tactic.) And that pie was de-licious.

It's still my favorite pie.

How many days until Thanksgiving?