"Uncle!"

Okay, so maybe not that extreme, but forgive me, my friends; I have ignored you too long. So maybe it's only been a week, but you know. Time flies when you're doing stuff.

The interesting project I'm doing for the MN GOP is just that: interesting. Not exciting. Interesting. It is taking up a bit of my time, and therefore, excuse number one for the week of silence.

Entertaining things that happened while doing my civic duty of voter registration: An older gent said to me, "Republican or Democrat, it makes no difference. Curses on them both! Good day to you." I have also been asked out several times, and numerous persons of the male persuasion have said they'd vote for me if I run for office. What else can I say? I also would highly recommend that if you're ever going to yell at someone for doing his job, have your arguments at the ready, and present only the logical ones. Otherwise people like me (or so I'd like to think) will poke lots of holes in your arguments and shame you into leaving. Okay, so the guy probably really left because I threatened to go find security.

Mark, you're not going to like this, but I just get sucked in more and more to those first violin sections. I played for a string quartet for my church over the weekend (second violin this time), and what, with a rehearsal on Saturday morning and three services on Sunday morning (yes, three! I was at church from 7am until 12:30pm on Sunday), there went half my weekend. Throw in a Sunday evening rehearsal for Minnetonka, and a Monday evening rehearsal for the church orchestra, and there are several more justifications for my blogger absence.

Speaking of three church services...Have you ever attended a church that has multiple services? And when communion is served (ours is served the first Sunday of each month), have you ever wondered if the musicians get served each time? I mean, the thought crossed my mind several times before i started playing more regularly, but now I can confirm it for you. Yes, yes we are. I mean absolutely no disrespect for such a sacred and meaningful occurrence, but I think I'm covered for a while: I had communion three times on Sunday morning.

The third excuse actually involved fun. I had my fabulous friend Ruthless over on Saturday night, and we entertained ourselves by building a fire in the backyard fire pit and roasting things over it. It was a beautiful night, all nice and 70 or 80 degrees out, all that. Of course, we, being the campers from birth that we are (no, seriously, it's true), we had absolutely no difficulties starting the outdoor fire and never even mentioned gasoline.

Back to doctor's appointments and how amusing they can be. I had an echocardiogram done on Friday morning. That was pretty intense, but I enjoyed myself immensely. I mean, is it every day that one gets to look at pictures of one's heart? Or hear what it sounds like? No. No, it is not. I had a grand time checking out all the ultra-modern equipment and asking a couple dozen questions. And the good news is that everything turned out just fine. I like good results.

Last night was a good night; I got home and no one else was home (everyone gone until today). You know what I like to do in such a circumstance? Play the piano in the middle of the night with only the piano lamp lit in the entire house. It's great. (I did probably keep the neighbors up for a bit, but since it happens so rarely that I'm pounding away at 1am, I'll confess I did not care so much. They are also the midnight recyclers, after all.) For two hours, I was able to pour over old sonatas and concertos, and ended the extravaganza with a few calmly serene pieces by Chopin and Debussy.

I saw a commercial tonight for Slim Fast. I'm not all that into Slim Fast or commercials, for that matter, but I did wonder: if you're riding a stationary bike, why do you need to wear a helmet? At least I think the dude in the high protein Slim Fast commercial was riding a stationary bike...

I was also having a discussion with my mother, a rather strange one. Tonight we were talking about inheriting facial features from relatives, all that. I wondered out loud from whom I got my lips, and then it came about that yes, I am created in the image of God, but so is everyone else. And then it was just weird thinking about whether God has lips and if mine look like His.

So, good people. That is my life these days.