We picked apples!

So we got up before 8(!) for soccer pix, then a game against their stiffest competition yet (we weren't keeping score, but we won!) then a break, then off to the kid-friendly orchards of Gwendon Farms in Puyallup. Where kids pick apples, carrots and more. Or, as Eddie fabulistically put it, kids pick from the garden, then have to pick apples for five hours.

Condi Out as VP 'Cause of the Gay Thing? Really?

OK, so in the course of looking at stories about Clay Aiken -- Gay? Really? (Claymates in denial) -- I came across this interesting thing on Condi Rice and how she got eliminated from John McCain's ticket because she is supposedly (apparently?) gay. I had no idea.

According to a prominent member of the Republican National Committee privy to the search process, many in McCain’s inner circle argued furiously for the selection of Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice over the other top contenders, Mitt Romney, Mike Huckabee and Tim Pawlenty.“Once Obama selected Biden instead of Hillary,” said the source, ” they had this theory that Condi was the perfect candidate to put up against him. She’s tough, conservative and a hawk, not to mention a football fanatic, which would be more than enough for white men. ... So what went wrong? “It was the persistent rumors about her sexuality that ultimately killed her chances and removed her from the list,” says the mid-level RNC official. ... According to her biographer, Washington Post diplomatic correspondent Glenn Kessler, the never married Rice shares ownership of a house as well as a line of credit with a female documentary filmmaker, a liberal Democrat named Randy Bean. Digging through real estate records, Kessler discovered the pair’s co-ownership of a property in Palo Alto, California as well as a joint line of credit with a bank, an arrangement Bean has explained unconvincingly as relating to medical bills that left her financially drained. It’s possible that others previously investigating Rice’s background came across the joint ownership of the investment property and the bank account but assumed the name “Randy” belonged to a man. Rice once told a reporter that Bean is her closest female friend and that they bonded over their mutual love of football.

Family Oversharing (Not Mine, Thankfully)

OK, so I was looking for Maria McKee on Facebook (apparently you can declare yourself as a fan of people and things like -- plug alert -- Amazon Video On Demand), and found a couple groups, and a link to this story: "Bryan Maclean: Love before, after and beyond." It was on the well-known publication Canadian Christianity Today, and had a fair amount of stuff about Maria (Brian's half-sister). Maclean, who died a few years ago, was known for writing great songs and being a part of the acclaimed '60s band Love with Arthur Lee. McKee was lead singer of beloved "cowpunk" band Lone Justice and a solo artist. I'm a fan, as her music is the kind of poppy and grandiose stuff I love.

The article is long, a bit rambling, and very much one-source. And while I was interested to learn that Maria is bi-polar and spent three months in bed staring at the TV and then the wall before her wonderful husband got her help, I felt like a voyeur -- much more voyeuristic than when I peek at the supermarket tabs. This was too real to enjoy as "Hollywood crap." For example:

Elizabeth admits it’s only in the last decade that she has started to come to terms with some of her more questionable parenting decisions. As an example, she brings up Bryan’s childhood weight issues; “I think a lot of kids eat because they’re starved for that thing that they need; their parents. And I was so scared of [second husband] Jack, that I had to stand with him against Bryan. It was the worst thing. That was the sadness of my life, to have to gang up on him.”

It was the opposite scenario with Maria. “I was in such La La Land. I thought; ‘Oh, the Lord gave me my little girl! I always wanted a little girl; I’m going to be the perfect mother of a perfect child.’ And then I just loved her. I took her everywhere, because Jack was never home, and she had no daddy, so I tried to be everything to her, and do everything. And a lot of it was good, but a lot of it was bad, because I was in another world. She was my life – I made her my life.”

“I think it’s been in the last few years, since Bryan died, that I’ve been able to be honest with myself, and who knows, maybe that whole attitude that I had towards her, of making her my little Princess and all that, is what screwed her up.”

Wow. Wonder what my mom would have said about me if CanadianChristianity.com
called her.

Exploring Union Station

I walk through Union Station pretty much every workday morning. I love the '30s vibe, the huge, arched ceiling, the tilework, and I love to think of the people who have come through there over the years, the hopes they had in their travels. Today, for fun, I went beyond the main lobby/passthrough area in to the bathroom, which is huge and bright and really more of a lounge. So civilized!

At Last, Facebook (step by step)

OK, so I'm finally signing up for Facebook. I kind of have to, because there's now a Facebook page for my work, and I need to be a Facebook member to be able to fully access it as an admin/update it/whatever.

I had said that I was a "conscientious objector" to FB, which would actually require putting waaaaay more effort into it than I'm willing to. What I really have been is guilty of ignoring my blog, and more importantly, my friends. FB just seems like another way to do that, and I certainly don't need the help.


But Cheryl's on it, and she seems to dig it. So I'll give it a chance. OK, weird thing: I'm signing in now, for the first time, and I'm still on, like, step 1, and I already have an invite to be a friend with Jim Drinkwine, a dude I kind of remember from college. Wow. I have actual friends on FB, and this guy is the first I hear from? Hmmmmm. Oh God. It's with some trepidation that I allow FB to "find friends" in my Outlook. This ought to be interesting.

Next up: Selecting a Facebook photo.

Lonely Boy

The weirdest thing happened today. I picked up a couple of songs at the Amazon Mp3 store (highly recommended, of course), including "Lonely Boy," by Andrew Gold (powerchords, pianos, kinda Jason Mraz-ish, if you need a 21st-century reference). It's the kind of song that's vintage me: Not the hugest, best-known hit, but catchy and dramatic (actually melodramatic, upon futher listening). But that's not what's weird. What's weird was my reaction to actually listening to it.

I was on the bus, headed for the office, and I teared up. I do that sometimes when I listen to songs I like, and this is definitely that: I've been in a Swingtown-inspired appreciation of '70s songs lately. I think it's because music is so evocative, and I'm not always the most in-touch-with-my emotions person, so I need the help.

So there I was, riding along on the 196 bus to Seattle, tearing up and bobbing my head to a song that was much ... bigger then I remembered. (Probably because I heard it most on a cheap little AM radio.) "Walking On Broken Glass" came up next, then "I Want It That Way" by the Backstreet Boys, then "Get the Girl" by The Bangles. These did not have the same effect.So, why "Lonely Boy"? Well, the song is about a first-born kid who basically feels betrayed/abandoned/threatened by the arrival of a sibling. Sheesh, I didn't remember that. And my issue could certainly be something along those lines. Or just an identification with being lonely. (I've had my moments, though they're not enough to make me better about returning messages from friends.) But more likely, it had to do with my brother. I just found out that he moved. To Yelm. His wife said on her MySpace page that it was to be closer to family, helpfully specifying that she did NOT mean that to include me or my dad. Ouch. In fairness to her, and to them, we have fallen out of touch somewhat. But in fairness to me and Dad, the phone does work both ways. My brother just seems to have "moved on," either through benign neglect, subconsciously or (I hope not) concious decision that he we're too much work/too different from who he is/wants to be or whatever.

OK, I just listened to the song again. "Goodbye mama! Goodbye you! Goodbye papa! I'm pushin' on through!"

Just a twinge. I'm safe.

Bubble Breaker, aka Boredom Breaker

OK, so I get on the elevator this a.m. ... Yes, I know, I always used to be a stairs girl, but I work on the 7th floor and that's tough on my knees (getting older sucks sometimes). Anyway, I get on the elevator, hit 7, and watch a bunch of guys get in and hit 3, 4, 5, and 6. Are you freakin' kidding me??? Normally, this sort of thing makes me tense, but I'm enjoying a new game on my phone. It's called Bubble Breaker. And my many-stopped elevator journey gave me time to get a new high score (714!!! -- with a 500-odd bubble burst in one go!!!). God bless Bubble Breaker for keeping me from getting wrongfully het up over stupid stuff. Now if I can just keep myself from playing it too much when I'm in the company of, you know, loved ones (sorry honey).

Quick Catch-Up: Kindergarden and More

OK, so I'll start by saying that all is well. Cheryl joined our local health club. (I'm putting mine off until I get MY personal health scare. Kidding. Sort of.) Just launched a major new thing at work, which did its best to knock me down, but a constant influx of Diet Mountain Dew is keeping me bright-eyed. We took the kids to kindergarten this week, kind-of. It was meet the teacher day/orientation, and it went just fine. The only issue is that when I think about it, I get kind of emotional. Monday is the REAL day ... the day when we leave them in the hands of the educational system. OK, we're easing in (Cheryl's volunteering in class that day). But it's still momentous.

UPDATE: That's the boys walking in to school for their REAL first day. They were nervous, so I played it as cool as possible, snapping pic after pic with my phone. But it went great. Except that I didn't want to leave. Sigh.