Whoops, I forgot to update. But it must be quick; my mother desires my prescence downstairs for cookie-making.

Yesterday, despite an unfortunate bout of heat exhaustion Larkin had, we went out in search of Phil's house, in that hellish construction yard that is Memorial Northwest. About an hour and a half and we finally got around all the one-way streets, bulldozers, and giant tiger traps to Phil's place, for a quick swim and visit with, well, almost nobody I've ever met before. But Phil and Julia were there. I had a nice time, but as previous updates show, I am no fan of the ever popular Halo, and had seen two out of three movies being shown, so Larkin and I made a graceful exit before I had to see another Capture the Flag match. Thank you dear, for chauffering me around in the Houston sun.

After a rest at my place (Larkin had become a little dizzy and still wasn't sweating), the two of us decided to go back to her house to teach me to play DDR. Despite the good idea, I'm not terribly coordinated, and upon Larkin's request on the location of the dance pads, a somewhat ridiculous sisterly brawl took place. I would've sat it out in the kitchen (I was having fun cleaning the stove and whatnot), but when one hears his girlfriend getting hit, he really can't sit around. I could've extracted the hostility from the air and cooked with it. Ah, hellfires. I was up late thinking about it. I don't get mad at anyone from this sort of thing, but I can't take sides in silly arguments like this. Stupid technicalities are just flung back and forth. "Open palm is not a punch, love." I'm terribly sorry, but a person who's just struck her own sister should NOT BE FUCKING TECHNICAL. Anyhow, it's not worth brooding over. I'd prefer to forget the whole thing, and besides, when I consider what a wonderful creature Larkin is, if all I have to deal with to be with her is a silly family feud once in awhile, I'll never meet a more low-maintenance girl.

So, right! I need to go make cookies!