Waiting Sucks

Almost a month ago, Sarah went to the doctor (Eden and I went with her, but we didn't really go to the doctor) and he told her there was a good change this baby was coming early. Now we're two days from the due date and I kind of want to punch him (even though the good Dr. Woo is an extremely nice man). I'm absolutely no good at waiting. It sends me into a complete stupor, leaving me nearly incompetent when it comes to doing just about everything. I mostly just wander in a haze around the earth, waiting. Waiting. And as soon as this baby is born, I'll be fine to go about my business completing things as usual. But until then ... I've got nothing.

I'm wondering if this effect that waiting has on me shows up anywhere else. Not to be morbid, but if we're just waiting for the end of time (particularly if you're from the school of thought that we're waiting for something better), how on earth can I get anything done in the here and now? Not that I think about the end all the time. But you know. It's a question I have: How does waiting for the end effect me in the here and now?

Stupid Ticket/Officer of Peace

Apparently, in Minnesota, when you move, you're required to get a new driver's license within 30 days showing your new address. I wasn't aware.

Here are the order of (imperative) events.

1. We moved into this house almost a year ago.
2. I got new license plates for our car
3. I was unable to put the new license plates on the car because the screw were rusted on
4. I received a parking ticket for expired tabs
5. I placed the new plate in the back window, above the old plate
6. I got pulled over for having two plates showing
7. I gave the officer my license and answered him honestly when he asked if I lived at my old address
8. He spent 8 minutes or so looking up my info (with my pregnant wife, daughter, and dog waiting)
9. He cited me for having the wrong address on my license

Here's the thing. I know the guy has to do his job. But I really was trying to be helpful with the whole license plate thing. I don't know. Maybe I'm just frustrated. My neighbor grows pot on his back porch and plays loud music at all hours of the night and there are always people shouting in his house and his dog is terrifying and his buddies dog is always running around the neighborhood. And that's just my neighbor, you know? Ah. Life is unfair. C'est la vie.

One more thing. The citation refers to the police officer as an "officer of peace". I wonder how our idea of law enforcement might change if everyone referred to the police as officers of peace. And if they legitimately though of themselves as officers of peace.

I asked Sarah what she thought and she said, "Maybe they'd be more like mounties." O Canada! Maybe we'll change our address again.

Finally. A job.

I started my job yesterday. I'm doing the same thing that Sarah has been doing for the last ten years, providing her lots of opportunity to feel WAY smarter than me. I'll be working with autistic kids doing Applied Behavioral Analysis, an intensive, early-intervention therapy. Once again, the jobs falls under the never-thought-I'd-be-doing-this category, but I'm definitely looking forward to it. Last year I worked in a classroom at a junior high with a bunch of autistic kids; I think it will be interesting to get in on the ground floor and see if I can help keep kids out of resource rooms in the future. The company has a high (I want to say 70%?) best-case-scenario rate, meaning that the kids start the first grade (or whenever they start going to school) without an IEP or any sort of label. It seems amazing to me, but after watching a couple of sessions, I think I'm beginning to understand how 8 hours of therapy everyday can help kids adjust to a world they have trouble understanding. Now if I could only adjust to a world I have trouble understanding.

It's Coming

Fall. And I can't wait. This summer has been too hot. There is a reason I live in Minnesota. I'm looking forward to sweatshirts and jeans. Besides, the two pair of shorts that I own both ripped during the same hot hot HOT week. One along the back pocket and one, somehow, along the front of the leg. Summer hates me.

Also coming: More stories. I've been working overtime on my critical paper and the first draft is done and I'm hoping that the second draft doesn't take as long as the first. It's about the relationship between songs and short stories as they relate in the three techniques of precision, movement, and final effect. If that sounds super boring to you ... well, it might be. But for me, it's one of the most interesting non-fiction topics I've ever written about. And it's changing the way I write songs and stories, which means it must be important. At least to me. The gist of it is that in songwriting and short story writing, you're working within the confines of a shortened time and space. With a novel, you can write five hundred pages about whatever you want - the color of the grass, the history of the Nordic people, why a character might wear glasses instead of contacts. And the reader will probably give you the time to do it; they've invested in the novel and they're going to want to see it through to the end. (Not always true, but we're working on generalizations here.) Short stories and songs are different. You have to be precise; if you only have a certain number of words to use, then each word ought to be chosen precisely. You have to provide movement; in songs that comes in rhythm, but also in the lyrics and stories it comes in plot, but also in the rhythm. And you're trying to provide the reader with one final effect; I would argue that the best songs and stories leave you with one overwhelming feeling. Anyway, if that's super interesting to you, you can get your MFA at the University of Nebraska-Omaha and I'll be teaching about it next summer. Or you can read my 30 page paper. Your call. OR EVEN BETTER: You can hire me to teach at your college.

Anyway, I've almost tackled the critical work, so I'm moving back into stories. I would like for my creative thesis to be a collection of short stories that is accompanied by an album of songs about those stories. The Northwoods Hymnal. I have two songs and five stories completed (and completed is a tricky word). I'm shooting for ten to twelve. I have about seven or eights months to go. Really I have ten months, but there is a break between the spring semester and the summer residency and I think I'm supposed to be done before that break. Regardless, it's nice to have direction and a goal in sight. I posted one story a few weeks ago and I suppose I could post the other stories as they complete. I can post demos of the songs too if that's something people are interested. All eleven of you.

And the album I've been working on for three years? What about that? Still in progress. But I'm sitting down with Jake and Josh this weekend to construct a plan. Hopefully it will help all my flailing in the darkness. I realized I have five different versions of Little Bird; at some point I'm going to just have to tack it down with a tether and nail. And then you'll get that version, while I wince at all the things I should have done differently. So much for masterpieces.