But Everyone Else Is Doing It!

And, yes, if everyone jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'd do that, too.

Since New Year's Day is almost over, I wanted to post my resolutions before it was too late. And everyone knows that if you don't mention them on New Year's Day, they are worthless. I read that . . . in a book. So, without further ado, here are my resolutions for 2008:

Get Less Fat. I know I mentioned this earlier with our Weight Loss Challenge, but I wanted to reiterate it in this post. Since the knee injury, I have gained a lot of weight, and my pants (jeans and dress pants) barely fit anymore - not to mention the whole good health thing. I would like to get down to 190 or so, but I'll settle for getting under the 200 mark.

Work On My Writing. Whether it be for the blog or for my Family Security Matters articles, I think I need to hone my craft a little. (Read: a lot.) I would also like to toy with the idea of reaching my loftiest of goals: writing a book. Yeah, everyone says that, but I still owe it to myself to make an attempt. No one will want to read it, of course, but if I could just finish something it would really make me happy.

Spend More Time With The Family. This is one that I really need to work on, because lately I have been married to this infernal computer. I think that I can work on posts during my downtime - while in court, when the kids are asleep, or when work is slow - instead of when the boys are asking me to play. The holidays helped ram that point home. I knew very few people would be reading this drivel over the Christmas break, so I used that opportunity to run around with the crumb crunchers. Of course, while playing football with Kyle last night, he hit me so hard that he re-aggravated my rib injury. Dang.

Ask Jennie Finch To Stop Harassing Me. Look, I know I'm a very attractive, successful hunk of man meat, but I am spoken for. And while most guys would drop down on their knees and thank God that you are interested in them, I am not one of those guys. Please stop with the phone calls, and bikini photo e-mails. It's starting to get embarrassing.

Really, Jennie; you just have to move on.