New Year's Eve.

Leaving ComedySportz, where Sarah had a show, on our way to a party, a stranger stopped in front of us on the street and said, "Happy New Year. Do you two have any resolutions."

"Not really, not yet," we said.

Although, we actually kind of did. Lose weight. Save money. Really mostly wedding resolutions.

"What about you?" I asked, "What's your resolution."

The stranger thought for a second, then said, "I do have a resolution. I'm gonna keep being me."

"Well, good luck with that," I said as he walked away.

Hansen: Congratulations on being able to invite me to your wedding.

I got back to Chicago to find Sarah feverishly doing wedding research online. She seemed a little stressed out.

Me: Look, it’ll be okay. We’ll just prioritize. Here’s my list of importance. One… your dress.
Sarah: Really? You’re not just saying that?
Me: It’s important you look good. Two… booze. Three… friends, having our friends be there. Four… venue. And then everything else.
Sarah: Do you want to hear my list? One… everything. [laughs nervously] And two.. everything I haven’t thought of yet.

Since I've been in Ohio a while, I thought I'd try to record an installment of my Stupid Nerd podcast. The only problem is that no one in my family is all that nerdy.

So I did a short interview with Ty and Will a cartoon show they like, 'Ben 10.' Ty explained the concept of the show and a few of the episodes, while Will mostly giggled and occasionally said nonsense like, "Cha-cha!"

Me: Is there someone named Cha-cha?
Ty: No. Will's just saying weird stuff.

Afterward I let them each listen to the a few minutes of the recording. Ty seemed slightly hypnotized by his own voice, occasionally smiling a little to himself. Will didn't seem that interested, taking the earbuds out fairly quickly.

Me: Didn't like it Will?
Will: It's okay. Some of it is silly.

The podcast probably won't be up for a couple weeks, but in the meantime, you can listen to some of the old episodes here.

For Christmas I gave Dad this framed picture, taken the second after his team won the national championship game (on a last second Hail Mary three-pointer, no less). You can see my mother and my sister, Sherry, having a sort of religious experience.

Julie: I like it. It captures the moment.
Mom: Oh, I look terrible. Ron, that is not going up in your office.
Sherry: Wait... why were you taking a picture then?
Mom: That picture might disappear.
Dad: I like it.

It's hard to follow up an undefeated championship season. So far it's gone okay. They're already not undefeated, but they're winning more than losing.

Sarah flew back to Chicago yesterday for a family event, a christening. When she was gone I thought I'd have a few days of not hearing, "let me see the ring," but I realized that, out in public, the same thing happens to my dad. People want to see the championship ring. Sitting in a booth at Outback Steakhouse, men walking by stop and say, "Coach, I gotta see the ring," or, "The ring. Show me the ring."

The usual holiday tradition of the family taking Grandma out to Pizza Hut.

"Is this the one?" Grandma asked, meeting Sarah for the first time, and then, "You did good," referring, I think, to both the ring and Sarah in general.

I take this compliment to be sincere since she is usually pretty straightforward.

Me: What do you think of my new haircut?
Grandma: Well... it's not really my style.

On the way out I handed my camera to Mom and asked her to take a picture of the two of us. We must have been confused about exactly when the shot was being taken, because we're not even smiling politely.

Me: [showing picture to Grandma] Oh man. [laughing] We are not smiling at all.
Grandma: You're not even smiling.

I think we look like an ad for a cheap family law firm, or some strange syndicated detective show from the 80s. 'Jake and the Grandmother.' 'Anne Marie for Hire.'

Christmas Day in Ohio at my sister's house.

Julie said that Ty and Will are really into 'Star Wars' and superheroes right now. Sarah and I decided to get them something that doesn't make noise, and something that doesn't have a lot of tiny parts that will easily get lost. So we got them these oversized cartoony versions of semi-obscure (to little kids anyway) Marvel superheroes, Ghost Rider and The Thing.

They didn't seem to know what to make of the toys (as you can see in the bottom left corner, neither did Allie), but Will started calling his toy Underwear Man, which sort of turned everything around. Little kids might not care about The Thing, but they sure do love Underwear Man.

Christmas Eve in the suburbs with Sarah's family.

There were lots of congratulations and compliments on the engagement and ring, even though I think everyone already knew it was coming. In fact, I think her whole family knew by the end of the day that I asked for her grandfather's permission. That's the way families are.

During the White Elephant/Yankee Swap/Dirty Santa gift exchange last year I thought it would be amusing to bring Sham-Wow as my contribution to the swap. It wasn't as big a hit as I'd hoped, and frankly no one had heard of it before. You always feel bad for the person saying, "Hey... don't forget you can steal this things. This... uh... this Sham thing. Still up for stealing."

This year I just brought a bottle of scotch, and it was stolen three times (the game limit). So, I'm learning.

I don't think either of us are particularly happy with the way we look in that engagement picture I posted. I say, "You look cute but I look terrible." And then Sarah says, "No. I look terrible. You look cute."

I mentioned that I think I sort of look like a Muppet in the picture, thick-headed with a gaping mouth.

So our friend Gilley did this reimagining of our engagement photo if we really were Muppets.

After the proposal on Sunday we went to see 'It's a Wonderful Life' at the Music Box, a beautiful old Chicago theater. It was a nice film to see in the first hours of our engagement, about how the support of family and friends can make you "the richest man in town" (and only slightly about how a man feels so trapped by responsibilities to work and home that he's driven to suicide).

An organist led the packed house in singing Christmas carols beforehand and it was all very Christmas-y and we-just-got-engaged-y.

My still-recovering back ached a bit from sitting in the theater seat for so long. I had to get up a few times during the movie to walk around.

My back is mostly better now, but I was a little worried during the days leading up to the engagement, most of which I spent laying down, resting, worrying about the fact that my proposal plan involved climbing three flights of icy back porch stairs. Saturday night, the night before the proposal, I hobbled into the bathroom, locked the door behind me and secretly practiced getting down on one knee and getting back up, just to make sure I could do it, and that I wouldn't get stuck, clutching a ring and clutching my back.

All social announcements and exchanges seem to be funneled through Facebook these days. We had to put a little thought into when exactly we'd update our relationship statuses (stati?), because it's like setting off a "we're getting married" bomb amongst our friends, friends of friends, and random improvisers who we don't really know.

Sarah had to send me a "change of relationship" request, which I confirmed. Her own little online version of asking me to marry her.

By the way, if you get engaged, and your fiancee sends you a Facebook request about it, it may take you a little while to find it on the Requests page. You'll have to scroll down below Friend Requests, Friend Suggestions, Event Invitations and Group Invitations.

Sarah's Facebook Status: "Sarah has decided that Arnie will now be referred to as 'The fi-ARN-ce.'"

And… we’re engaged!

I proposed on the back porch of my old apartment that I used to share with Young, where Sarah and I had our first kiss. I got down on one knee and said, “Sarah Christine ______, will you marry me?”

Meanwhile, she immediately burst into tears and started yelling, “I knew it! I knew it!”

[It did occur to me though, that getting engaged would make a decent ending to the blog. There are, however, several months of blogging left. Oh well, I guess I'll have to come up with something else to end the blog.]

The chicken has been tucked away in my closet since we moved into this apartment. Sarah recently noticed it and said, "That's kind of sad. Poor chicken. We should put him in sick bay." (We call the guest room sick bay.)

So now the chicken and the bear are keeping each other company.

Going back to Sunday for a moment, during the Christmas dinner with the guys, Hansen got Young (and all of us) a pretty wonderfully ridiculous gift.

He's had a long standing joke, mostly aimed at Young, to annoy him, that he's going to write a terrible sequel to 'The Lord of the Rings' called 'Return to Elf Island.'

And his gift? He wrote it. (Well, he's halfway through writing it)

Hansen: It'll be out in April. You'll all get hardbound copies. And I'm sending two copies to the Library of Congress so it'll be officially listed, and you'll be able to request a copy from any library in the country. Also, I think you'll be able to order it from Amazon and a copy will be made for you.

He brought the first chapter, for Young to read aloud over drinks before dinner. Here's an exclusive excerpt, the first paragraph of 'Return to Elf Island: The Endginning':

"The white boatship creaked, and its creaks were loud, creaking as it was through the thunderous waves and their slappy wavelings that surrounded the ivory boatship as truly an ocean surrounds a boatship as it sails. And this one was sailing. It contained passengers of legend who rode on it and in it, and on occasion, above it, with their possessions in luggage of leather -- several made of beastface -- the very skins of the faces of ferocious beasts -- and with enough foodstuffs to last the expected length of the journey. Six of your Earth weeks, if you must know. And now you do, Dearest Reader. . Every provision had been thought of: dragon shanks, to make one sluggish with satisfaction and magic; cloven-hooved-beastcheese, and various salmon. Barrels and casks and flasks and skins held a veritable encyclopaedia of the thirst-quenching arts: cloudwaters, curly-haired-baa-crying-beastmilks, lakemoists, riverwets, and wines. Many on-board games of jinxcards and spelljacks ended in riotous laughter brought on by these intoxicating elixirs of fruit, and water, and magic. "

Hansen: All of you appear as characters.
Meador: Our names appear in there?
Hansen: Well, you all have weird Tolkienesque pseudonyms.
Young: [laughing] What a weird crazy thing to do.
Martin: But pretty great.
Young: Great, sure, really great, but... it's such a weird thing to spend all this time on.
Me: I feel like this is going to lead to Hansen accidentally becoming a bestselling novelty book writer.
Hansen: Keep reading. Keep reading. You're almost to the part about how everybody's gay.

The holidays are taking their toll. I've come down with a cold and somehow hurt my back. It's a horrible combination.

Coughing makes my back hurt. Icing my back makes me feel more sniffley.

Ugh.

So many holiday parties. One or two a day.

I never even mentioned this one from Monday. A small holiday gathering for Diplomat Motel, a team I perform with at iO.

It was the usual improv team Christmas party. Drinking. Eating. Making up a weird game that involved unpleasant physical challenges.

In this picture, most of the cast watches out the window as Tristan runs around a strange parked car fourteen times.

The iO Theater holiday party.

I ran into Adal and Louie who have recently gotten some internet notoriety for a prank Adal played on Louie. Louie went out of town for a few weeks, leaving a key with Adal so he could check on his mail, etc. Adal invited dozens of improvisers over and wrapped everything in Louie's apartment in Christmas wrapping paper. TV... wrapped. Curtains... wrapped. Toilet... wrapped. Even small things, shampoo, books, all the food in the refrigerator... all individually wrapped.

A YouTube video showing the wrapped apartment has been quickly getting tons of hits. You can see it here. (And here's a video of Louie's reaction, here.)

Me: It seems like it's going viral pretty fast.
Adal: Yeah. You can check the stats on the site and it's the number one most watched video of the day... in the Netherlands. But still.
Me: But still. Mark my words, this is going to end up with both of you on a talk show next week.

Apparently the original idea was to fill Louie's apartment with balloons. So many balloons that he wouldn't be able to walk in. And they'd leave a note and a pin hanging from his front door. But they found out at the last minute that Louie is deathly afraid of balloons popping, so they decided to be nice and go with the wrapping paper idea instead.

Last night was also the annual fancy Christmas dinner with Nick, Trupe, Young, Hansen, Martin and Meador. We got dressed up and ate steaks at the Primehouse.

Later we went to the Gingerman for beers. Trupe showed us how to tie a windsor knot.

Glynn and Brooke hosted a Whirled News Christmas brunch at their place.

Eddie brought his second daughter, Amelia, who had just been born 48 hours ago.

Eddie: She's real new. The price tag is still on.
Sarah and Megan: [at same time] So you could still take her back?
Sarah: Hey!
Megan: Yeah!
[Sarah and Megan high five]

We re-signed the lease (after negotiating the rent down, which I'm kind of proud of because I'm generally not good at those sorts of things).

So, another year in the apartment.

It did occur to me though, that moving out of the apartment would have made a decent end to the blog. When in doubt, book ending works.

Oh well, I guess I'll have to come up with something else to end the blog.

Second City, one of Chicago's most historic theaters (comedy or otherwise) is celebrating its 50th anniversary this weekend, with some incredible shows and reunions.

Steve, a TourCo performer, got me in to the SCTV reunion show party as his "plus one." A big chunk of the original cast of that classic TV show reuniting for a night of live theater. We weren't in the theater itself (those tickets were crazy expensive) but got to watch the show simulcast on big screens in the fancy new training center space in the building.

Ed Grimley. Edith Prickley. Count Floyd. Pretty incredible.

Sure, there was a bit of a disconnect, watching it projected rather than live. We'd hear the tinny roar of applause through the speakers between sketches, and in our room upstairs, a round of real applause would start and then awkwardly sputter out, people wanting to show their appreciation, but also feeling a bit odd, because, well... they couldn't hear us.

Still, the show was great, as was the party surrounding it. Free drinks, sushi, friends who I don't see that often because they're busy at Second City and I'm busy at a different theater... and of course, every time you'd turn around another moderately obscure comedy celebrity. Hey, it's Larry David's dad from 'Curb Your Enthusiasm!' Look, it's the guy who played 'Sledgehammer!'

And I mean no insult by "moderately obscure." Sure, a lot of bigger names will be in the building tomorrow, but I was genuinely jazzed to see "that guy from 'Not Necessarily the News'!" And yes, I saw several celebrities whose names I do know, but I'm not going to write those here because, like stumbling across a YouTube video of some show that's been lodged in your brain since childhood but you could never remember its name and sometimes questioned if it existed at all... I was a lot more excited to see "that guy from 'Herman's Head'!"

Work Holiday Party.

We had drinks and an amazing dinner at Roy's a fancy Hawaiian-fusion place.

There was a lot of debate all week about where to go for the after-party (karaoke? bowling?). Numerous company-wide e-mail surveys. Finally we settled on buying a bunch of booze and coming back to the office to drink and hang out.

That may sound kind of boring ("why would you want to go back to your office?") but it was inexpensive and fun.

Chris, by the way, has a (totally deserved) reputation for giving terrible speeches at our parties. This year he was half-jokingly (but half-seriously) forbidden from giving a speech at dinner from the higher-ups. When we got back to the office, though, he stepped up on a desk to make a speech. I'm not sure what he said, because we were all too busy boo-ing him.

The bitter winter weather is sweeping in.

Someone wrote this in the frost on the front door to our office building.

I imagine it mocks people waiting at the call box to be buzzed in for an interview or office visit. It's clearly written from inside. "Cold? Are you cold out there? Pretty cold out there, huh?"

I received a surprise package in the mail from Mom. Black socks! I could definitely use some black socks.

I wondered why she sent them to me right before Christmas, though.

Maybe she was thinking that it's no fun to get socks for Christmas, but it's super-awesome to get socks BEFORE Christmas!

Sarah bought a little tree and some Christmas decorations. We set them up, while listening to Christmas music and watching festive holiday HD Screensavers on the TV.

Sarah: It's like our Christmas stuff is watching the stuff on the TV thinking, "Oh man.. someday I hope I get big like that."

Went to the fundraiser for the Donna Fund. A number of great comedy art pieces(/sketches) including Lacy's interpretation of Beowulf using 40-some Barbie dolls (pictured).

If you would like to make a donation to the fund, which raises money to offer dance scholarships to children and buy portable DVD players for children in hospitals, I have the information in the comments section.

Marc and Odette's wedding.

Marc: [giving speech at reception] I'd like to thank Odette's parents for raising such a wonderful, amazing daughter. And I'd like to thank my parents... for raising... such a wonderful amazing son!

Marc's bachelor party.

We surprised him by starting the evening at Medieval Times, a giant castle-shaped building in the suburbs where you eat a meal and watch a medieval jousting and stunt show. Our knight, the Black and White Knight, won, somehow surviving being stabbed in the stomach about four times (by my count). So, he won, but he's probably dead now, right?

The only disappointment was that we didn't think to submit an announcment about Marc's impending wedding. We didn't know it was an option until the King was already reading off a long list of birthdays and anachrostic sounding corporate groups.

King: I am pleased to welcome to my kingdom... [reading] "AKA Marketing, ______ _____ who is celebrating an eight birthday, Nexus Logistics..."

Well, Officer _____, detinting the car windows wasn't as easy as just scraping it off with a razor blade like you suggested, but I was able to do it myself.

Sarah looked up 'how to' videos on YouTube, which is basically where she goes to answer all questions these days. The best approach seemed to involve using a steamer. We don't own a steamer, and my attempts to borrow one fell through (FYI: if you post something on Facebook about needing to borrow a steamer, you will mostly just get lots of amusingly vulgar jokes in response), so we bought a cheap little handheld travel SteamBuddy.

The side windows were surprisingly easy. But the back window was a terrible multi-day ordeal. Steam a little off, scrape. Steam a little off, scrape. Plus, I started to worry that I could damage part of the back window defroster. Finally I switched to using a hair dryer and it was more effective, allowing me to pull larger chunks of tinting away at a time. This may have been easier going if it weren't frigidly cold outside.

But it's done. And I feel sort of off, after spending so many hours in the back seat inhaling steam, hair dryer exhaust and window glue.

Long sigh.

This just hasn't been a good week for me.

Damn these tinted windows.

Me: I know. I know. I've been putting off getting the tinting removed because I'm worried about how expensive it'll be.
Officer: Just scrape it off yourself.
Me: I can do that?
Officer: Yeah. Just scrape it off with a razor blade. Why pay somebody else to do it?

For a second I thought about saying, "But look at the mess on my windshield from all those old city stickers I couldn't get off properly." Then I thought better of drawing attention to the fact that I've lived in Chicago with tinted windows for many years.

My friend Lacy asked if I'd pass on some info on a fundraiser she's working on. It's for a dance scholarship in the name of Donna, the little girl who passed away in October.

"Good Art for Good Things is a night of fun and somewhat raucous theater to celebrate a serious cause. All proceeds from this event will go to the Donna's Good Things Fund in honor of Donna Quirke Hornik (2005-2009).

"Donna's Good Things is an agency for good works, good deeds, GOOD THINGS in Donna's name: dance scholarships. Portable DVD players for kids going through treatment on long hospital stays. Essentially continuing Donna's special gift of spreading joy and light.

"Tickets are on a sliding scale: $15 - $25.

"Sunday, Dec. 6 at 8pm. Trap Door Theatre.

"Space is limited: RESERVATIONS ARE STRONGLY ENCOURAGED! Send yours in to GoodArtGoodThings@gmail.com!"

Not sure exactly what the entertainment pieces will be, but I know several of the performers and expect good things. I do know that Lacy will be performing her adaptation of Beowulf using Barbie dolls.

I'm going. Maybe I'll see you there.

I'll try to get and post some info soon on how you can make a donation if you can't attend in case anyone's interested.

Still not sure what to do with this mirror.

It's heavy.

It looks kind of good right there, right?

More houseguests.

Bob and Stacey are in town from Portland where they moved a few years back to open their own comedy theater. Even though it’s their vacation, there are a lot of calls to be taken, emails to be answered. Theater business.

Stacey: This is the first time we’ve gone away for so long since the theater opened.
Bob: It’s a lot like having a baby.
Me: It’s a lot like having a baby that has a job.

I wrote back in March when we first moved in that, "the view from our back deck has a lot of 'Rear Window' potential."

While out in the suburbs for Thanksgiving we picked up some rugs that Sarah's grandmother kindly gave us.

Lugging a large rolled up rug up the backstairs in the middle of the night, I wondered if I was giving someone else a 'Rear Window' moment, spotting me, a kind of reverse Raymond Burr, dragging a body into my home under cover of night.

Out to the suburbs for Thanksgiving with Sarah's family.

Things started winding down around 8. People packing up their kids and heading home.

Sarah's Uncle: Remember when we used to stay up late on Thanksgiving? This family gets lamer every year. We need to rely on the young people here to keep the party going.
Sarah: Oh wait, are WE the young people?
Sarah's Uncle: Yes. You two.
Sarah: Uh oh.

Our lease isn't up until March, but we've already begun getting long official documents asking whether we'll renew or not.

I lived with a different girlfriend once, years ago, and after that came to an end, I kept a blog about getting over it.

I wrote, "I've been thinking about leases and love. I wonder how many relationships end because the lease is up? I mean literally. For N and I it came down to, the lease is up at the end of June, do we sign up for another year together? The answer was no. I don't think either of us were one hundred percent certain that we wouldn't have been able to make another year work, but the chances were slim. And if we were going to lose each other, we didn't want to lose our security deposit too."

It's nice to feel differently this time. Things haven't always been perfect, Sarah and I even came close to breaking up several months back (cut to lots of blog posts about dying plants), but things have also been good, and we're both ready to sign on for another year.

But will we be here? We like the apartment. The neighborhood could be better. So, we're keeping the relationship, but whether we're keeping the apartment is up in the air.

Hanging out on the couch, watching TV, Sarah suddently shot her arms up over her head, forming her hands into beaks, and yelled, "These cranes are happy!"

We laughed about this for a while.

Me: We're the stupidest people I know.
Sarah: Yeah, pretty stupid.
Me: It's a good thing we're together, because no one else would find that amusing. Seriously. Imagine someone else was sitting next to you right now. That would have been real awkward.

Sarah's flattening out her yoga mat, and for some reason it's funny to me that these are the books she used. Satire isn't the opposite of yoga, not exactly the yang to yoga's yin, but still, there's something there.

A surprisingly beautiful November Chicago day.

Still, it's hard not to be jealous of those smart enough to get out of town for the winter.

[Also...

The terrible children next door have mostly disappeared as it's turned cold, but are back out in full force on this unseasonably nice afternoon.

Sarah: There's a five or six year old out there just saying, "sex sex sex sex" over and over again.]

By popular request, a picture of Tetley, the totally blind dog.

Interestingly enough, there have been no requests for pictures of the newborn.

You can check Facebook via your XBox now. I certainly enjoy both of these things, but they seem a little silly together.

Still, we checked it out and ended up spending a long time looking at each other's Facebook photos on the big TV screen. The pictures are arranged from newest to oldest so we watched ourselves slowly get younger and thinner.

[FYI: Just because the WiiFit board is in front of the TV doesn't mean I've used it anytime recently.]

After about two days in the hospital, Sarah's aunt gave birth to a healthy little baby girl.

I had a little trouble getting into the hospital myself to visit.

Me: Excuse me, where's the women's hospital.
Hotel Concierge: Last name?
Me: Mine?
Hotel Concierge: Who are you here to see?
Me: Oh. Uh. Last name? I know her maiden name. That wouldn't be...
Hotel Concierge: I need the name she checked in under.

After a few text messages I got the correct last name.

Hotel Concierge: And first name?
Me: Peggy.
Hotel Concierge: Nope.
Me: No?
Hotel Concierge: You're really not doing so well.
Me: Everyone calls her Peggy.
Hotel Concierge: Maybe that's a nickname. She probably checked in under her real name.
Me: And Peggy would... be... short for...
Hotel Concierge: Who are you to these people?
Me: That's a good question. I'm the boyfriend of a, uh... family member. I'm... I'm just trying to be a good boyfriend here.
Hotel Concierge: [warming a little] We have a Margret.
Me: Peggy could be short for Margret.
Hotel Concierge: Boyfriends need to know these things. You need to know the family names.
Me: I know. You're right.

After a hectic trip it's nice to be back in my own bed... Oh wait.

Sarah's aunt is giving birth, and the whole thing is going on much longer than expected.

To help out I headed out to the suburbs to watch another family member's children. Basically that meant hanging out in the strange house all night while the children slept.

It was just me and Tetley, the completely blind dog. The dog has been blind and living in that house for years, but still walks head first into walls every few minutes. That seems to be her way of getting around. Walk into wall, drag face and ear along wall until you get into the next room.

Late into the night, I let her out into the backyard to go to the bathroom. There were only three steps, but she fell sideways off of them.

I finally fell asleep on the couch. I woke up to the sound of the children on the phone pleading with their mother to come home, and no they did not want to wake up the strange man on the couch.

These road gigs tend to be a bit of a blur. Airport, Van, Hotel, Sound Check, Show, Maybe Some Drinks, Hotel, Van, Airport, Home. Sadly, there's rarely much time to go see or do anything touristy.

We were blocks away from the ocean. Never saw it. We were a town away from the Burt Reynolds and Friends Museum. No time to go.

The show went well, though, and we had a big crowd. Maybe it was because of the giant roadside billboard promoting our appearance. Pretty impressive. Sadly, I didn't get a picture of that billboard. But I did take a picture of this 'Coastal Internet Sweepstakes cafe' sign that we all found really funny on our walk from the bar back to our hotel.

Florida.

Waiting for the sound check for a Whirled News show. Eddie takes a moment to check Facebook, check his texts and find out how his daughter's first day of preschool went.

Digging through some old photos, I found this one of Tom and I's freshman year dorm room. It's only half a picture, half of it somehow exposed to light, I guess.

Even just this bit you can see, though, gives you a good sense of it. Pretty typical.

Magazine covers taped to wall? Check.

Strings of Christmas and chili pepper lights? Check.

I skipped my regular Whirled News show to watch the last show of Sarah's improv group, Cowlick. They'd been performing together at the Playground for six years. But half of them have moved away and the other half are busy with families and generally getting older, so they decided to retire the group with a big final show.

During the heartfelt speeches portion of the show, Mary Beth said, "I moved to Chicago with a plan. I'd be here for two years. That would be enough time to get cast on the Second City Mainstage and then move on a deal with Saturday Night Live or something like that." Knowing laughter from audience. "None of that stuff happened, but being a part of Cowlick, and knowing how much we loved each other and how much we enjoyed playing with each other... it felt like had. And now it's over, and it's six years later and I realize that these guys tricked me, and I'm very angry at all of them."

Later there were drinks and sad goodbyes (even though they've already planned a group cabin trip for early next year).

I went with Young and Trupe to see Nick's high school production of 'The Diary of Anne Frank.' It was one of the stronger production I'd seen Nick direct.

Oddly, Young and I had small cameo's in the play, our voices at least. Nick had asked us to record some of the radio snippets that appear briefly in the production. Young was British and Dutch. I was German. My lines were, "All Jews must be out of the German-occupied countries before July first. The province of Utrecht will be cleansed of Jews between April first and May first, and the provinces of North and South Holland immediately thereafter. Immediately thereafter."

I recorded a couple takes on my computer and sent it to Nick in an email apologizing that it wasn't very good, but maybe he could find a take that would work. I'm not great with accents. That double, "immediately thereafter" at the end was especially tough.

It was painful to listen to myself during the play, especially since Nick had edited it so that the "immediately thereafter"s repeated over and over, at first for eerie dramatic effect, but then going on long enough to seem that it was honestly only happening to make me squirm. (Later Nick admitted he'd done it on purpose. "Oh yeah, I added a couple extra ones to make fun of you. I wonder if it was a slight detriment to the show.")

Afterward we hung out in the lobby with Nick's wife, Katie, so she wouldn't have to wait by herself.

Katie: After the shows I just have to stand around for a while and be the director's wife, you know.

A few of the cast members walked by, on their way to the wrap party.

Cast Member: Hey, was one of the you the Dutch voice?
Katie: That was him.
Cast Member: And the German too?
Young: That one wasn't me.
Katie: This guy was the German voice.
Cast Member: Thanks for doing it. They were great.
Young: Thanks.
Me: Trust me... you were all much better.

We exchanged anniversary gifts after Sarah got home from her evening class.

Sarah bought me a sweater and some underwear. I bought her a necklace and a card.

Sarah: A card! I didn't get you a card! What's going on? I'm turning into you.
Me: What? I DID get you a card.

[Also, Sarah thinks this picture looks like the cover of a mystery novel.]