time takes its time

Explosion

2011-05-11T19:40:00.000-04:00

Yesterday morning, I was messing around with my pedal board and out of nowhere got an idea for a song. In a few hours, it was finished. After listening to it on repeat several times (it's play count at iTunes since yesterday is 18), I opened up a few more GarageBand projects, and ideas just started pouring out. This isn't too unusual, except for the last year or so of my life. My musical experience moved beyond the ambient, indie, folky stuff I had listened to for years, and an explosion happened. I discovered Krautrock. I discovered shoegaze. I discovered psychedelic, free jazz, noise rock, noise pop, post-rock, avant-pop, post-punk, dub reggae, etc., etc. My palette of influences jumped from a major influence list of about five (Radiohead, Bob Dylan, Bon Iver, Wilco, Fleet Foxes) to about thirty (Radiohead, Bob Dylan, Bon Iver, Wilco, Fleet Foxes, Deerhunter, Sonic Youth, My Bloody Valentine, Grizzly Bear, Charles Mingus, the Flaming Lips, Dirty Projectors, early Pink Floyd, Neutral Milk Hotel, Explosions in the Sky, Can, Scientist, Animal Collective, etc., etc.). And on top of that, I had started expanding my effects pedals, expanding my sonic palette as well. Ideas just leaked out of me. So much was coming out of me, and it was so different, that I felt completely lost. In twelve months, I wrote maybe four songs I was happy with, and I had a thousand other pieces of ideas that would never fit together.
And now, I think the clouds are starting to clear. In the past three weeks, I've had several ideas come together that I am really happy with. Time will tell if the ideas will flesh out like yesterday's song did, but if they don't something else will. That's one of the things I love about music. It always changes. There are songs I wrote four years ago that I'm putting to record now, and they're almost unrecognizable, and I like that.

Wintertime

2011-01-11T13:57:00.002-05:00

You know what I hate the most about snow? People complaining about the snow. Snow itself I'm pretty keen on. I don't even mind the poor driving conditions that much. Sure, I may be constantly paranoid of being hit by all the cars, but I can deal with it.
This weekend was essentially a string of four snow days. Friday night, Michelle and I took a late night excursion into the blustery outside, jumping off of swing sets into the thick snow, surfing down icy slides, making snow angels (her, not me), scaling giant parking lot plow mountains, and going to Kroger in the middle of the night to warm up/buy ice cream and mozzarella sticks. Saturday was the same, but more. The city declared it a snow emergency, and we walked down to Big Lots to buy a shovel, taking our time as we did. We stopped on a bunch under an awning and watched the snow come down in droves being chased by snow plow after snow plow, then we went home and watched How I Met Your Mother (in my opinion, the most well-written sitcom on television) and had soup. Sunday was Sunday, and it was good. Then yesterday, South Bend Schools had its second snow day of the year, so Michelle got to stay home, and we had another nice, cozy snow day. Sometimes, when people are cooped up like this for such a long time, they get annoyed with whoever it is their cooped up with. For me, it makes me realize all over again just how killer awesome my wife is.
I'm very much looking forward to the rest of my life.

Tumblr

2010-12-14T12:31:00.001-05:00

I started a Tumblr for my "band." Check it.

Musicology/Spiritology

2010-10-27T21:52:00.003-04:00

Since I haven't blogged in a while, I think it's worth mentioning that for the past eleven months, I have played on the Vineyard worship team just about every week, with a week off here or there (no joke--I think I've had a max of seven weekends off). The past three months, I have been serving as the worship intern, which as had me working in that realm throughout the week too. Sunday, I had my first non-acoustic show in a long time, and it went swimmingly.

It is things like this that really get me thinking sometimes about just how important music is in my life, and how many different things I thought that meant--like that I should move to Chicago to become a full time musician, for instance. Two years ago, I was absolutely sure that what God wanted for me to do with my talent was to invest in it full time as a profession. A year ago, I was completely sure that I had made a complete mistake. So I moved back, gratefully. A month later, I found myself playing for a worship band--somewhere I never thought I'd go back to--and, surprisingly, enjoying it. As much as I'd criticized worship songs for being shallowly written (both musically and lyrically), I had come to appreciate what I saw as shallowness as simplicity, and I came to appreciate the space offered by that simplicity as freedom. I learned how to praise God again, and I learned to do it from the stage. To tell the truth, playing an instrument is much more natural for me than sitting in a large group and singing along. A lot of times, notes and rhythm say more from me than words do. If you ever catch me praying in solitude, you'll hear me humming rather than whispering. It's a language I sometimes feel like I speak better than English--which has brought up problems of its own when I try to write songs.

There's so much music can say. And lately, my lyrics have been talking about robots and time machines while the music itself just talks about truth, and beauty, and trembling, and aching, and love, and thankfulness.

I hope everyone hears that louder than the words.

2010-09-20T09:46:00.000-04:00

I am truly blessed with a wonderful life.

The American Workforce

2010-08-19T11:06:00.003-04:00

And so, it came to pass that Nathaniel FitzGerald worked several morning shifts at Bashor Children's Home, waking up at five to make the thirty minute drive that would end at the start of my shift, at six a.m. After the eight hour shift, he then drives twenty of those minutes back to the Vineyard Church to fulfill his internship there, which takes up around two and a half hours a day. He returns home around five thirty to his wife, who he wishes he could see more of, and then tries to be in bed before ten, which never happens.

And, I am tired. So, so, so tired. And that doesn't really bode well when my overall health is significantly affected by my sleep. I called off today because said overall health is a bit less than optimal, and after spending the past two days with a sick resident, I didn't want to risk infecting anyone else. But I'm beginning to rethink my goal of four days a week. It's going to be too hard to keep myself healthy with my current schedule. And with this schedule, being married is the only thing that makes sure I see Michelle anymore. If we were still just dating, I'm pretty sure I'd see her two days a week tops.

She got a teaching job, by the way. So I don't really need to work four Bashor days a week anyway. Maybe I'll take that extra day and spend it on music, or at the Vineyard. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.

A Retrospective

2010-07-14T08:40:00.002-04:00

The other day, in an episode of feeling particularly stupid (I burned a pan while making popcorn), I started to read back through my blog, specifically looking for times where I felt especially bad about myself (which were in no shortage). But as I went backward, something else started to happen. I started to become increasingly interested in what I was feeling with every post, whether I felt good or bad about myself. When I got the the end of this blog, I went to my Xanga and read that to its beginning, back to the summer after my 12th grade year, which I have often looked back to as my strongest days of faith, where I wrote about all the huge works God was doing in my life and my expectations for college. But as I read through it all, I realized that that time in my life, which was undoubtedly the brightest and most fiery was not the best or most godly. I was praying and expecting revival at Bethel, which in my mind meant prayer meetings that went on until the early morning with shouted prayers and hours and hours and hours of singing.

Regardless, that's not what my time at college looked like--not normally. And I felt let down by it. For a while, I felt somehow like God had ripped me off. But looking back now, I can definitely tell that there was a form of revival that happened--not a one or three day Spirit-falling-down, everyone huddling at the altar kind, but a four year revival of real growth and real learning that brought some of my very best friends to me and taught me that I must understand love before power and that grace always, always, always triumphs over judgment. I look back on the things God was doing in my life before college, and at times, I felt like I just couldn't contain it at all. It's been a very long time since I felt I couldn't contain my zeal and passion, but I realized the other night that that's because I've gotten bigger. I'm not trying to fit a huge thing into a small container. I have more room for it.

Back then, I was always telling myself it was time to be a man. Now, I am a man. At least, more of one.

Also, I got the job at Bashor. I go in Thursday for background checks and preliminary paperwork. Praise God.

Waiting,Patience, etc.

2010-07-08T12:02:00.003-04:00

Last Monday, I had my second interview at Bashor Children's Home. After telling me that he was glad I applied, the fellow interviewing me submitted the approval of my hire, and told me that once HR signs off on it, I'll have to do a couple background check things, and then I'll be ready for training. I called later in the week and was basically told to just wait until they call me. I consider myself a pretty patient person, but it's easy to get frustrated in situations like this. As much as I enjoy not going to work and listening to my records or riding my bike or whatever else all day, its really only fun for about three weeks, then I'd much rather have a job. And now...well, I basically have one, kinda? I just have to wait for it.

Always waiting.

I made a new mixtape today.

For your listening pleasure,

Multitrack Sneakattack, vol. XI: Shooting Stars in Your Breakfast Cereal

Bash 'em, Bashor

2010-06-16T13:50:00.002-04:00

Last week, I had an interview at Bashor Children's Home. I got a very good vibe from it, and was told to call back in a week if I hadn't received a call already. Well, today was a week, and I called back, and was told that the guy who interviewed me is on vacation, so I should try again next week. Come onnnnnnn.

Some background. In high school, my youth group went to Bashor a couple times to have Christmas with children in the HOPE unit--children between the ages of eight and thirteen who have been charged with sexual offenses. Within the first few minutes, I fell in love with them. A little while later, the pastor in residence visited our student leadership team, and at one point during the discussion said, 'call us when you're twenty-one and get a job.' And there was nothing then that I wanted more. Long story short, a lot happens in five years, and I got a little sidetracked, but here I am again, looking to Bashor, and I want it. And after a long, beautiful conversation with my darling sister Lyndsey last night about God's unexpected goodness, I have to ask myself, 'do I know that God is that good?'

I certainly want Him to be.

But in the meantime, I've been watching a lot a lot a lot of football*. Geez, I love the World Cup. There have been some incredible matches, and only in the first round! And strangely...I'm finding myself becoming a fan of the US team...this never happens in international sporting events...

*REAL football

2010-05-27T09:44:00.002-04:00

I'm becoming more and more convinced that often, the most godly way to live life is to just enjoy the goodness in everything around you.

The Tension and the Blessings

2010-05-18T21:44:00.002-04:00

There are eight days left in the school year. This leaves me in the position to find a job for the summer which I would need to negotiate with my involvement at the church (which may just increase...we'll see). On the drive to work today and while sitting in the classroom before the students came in, I was almost paralyzed by the perceived difficulty of this task. After school, Michelle called and we were talking about places I was going to apply (but forgot to because of the overwhelming amount of dishes in the sink), and I mentioned my worry of maneuvering my involvement in the worship band with one of the jobs in particular, and she said, 'Just apply and see what God has for you.'

What a wise wife I have. I love her so incredibly much. And, she just got a lot of her hair cut off. She looks very sophisticated. And hot. So hot. Oh, my wise, sophisticated, hot wife.

A kid I helped with had a seizure today. He had to be taken to the hospital, where they were 'going to take pictures of my brain' (his words...then he started crying). I wasn't in the room when it happened, but I was told that the nurse just ran down the hall to my classroom (I was in prep, helping the librarians figure out Windows Movie Maker), so I went down there and arrived to a group of program assistants surrounding him, one of them holding his stiff body in his lap. I stayed long enough to figure out what had happened and walked to the wall, feeling like I needed to cry.

I hate when children hurt.

Marriage

2010-05-08T22:42:00.003-04:00

Marriage is awesome. Never let anyone tell you anything differently. I've been married for a week, and I'm so excited about everything yet to come. Michelle and I honeymooned in Pure Michigan--we drove up the coast of Lake Michigan and stopped in St. Joseph (a great little lake town), Grand Rapids (in a suuuuper swanky hotel), Muskegon (with their incredibly cool historical district), Manistee (we camped on a bluff overlooking the lake), and Traverse City (hitting up record stores and hair salons, then staying in a room with a door that opened up to the beach). On the way back, we stopped in Holland for their Tulip Festival. It was a great trip. Now, it's time to settle into everyday married life and watch Betty White and Jay-Z on Saturday Night Live. What a great ending to a honeymoon.

Happenings

2010-04-19T22:39:00.003-04:00

I took off work today to apply for a summer job through WorkOne (a sort of unemployment office). About half an hour into the three hour orientation, I realized that the hour they were going to have me drive every day wasn't worth the $8.50 an hour they were going to pay me to do it. C'est la vie ("La vie")* But, I was sick today anyway, so it's okay that I wasn't hanging out with any kids that could also get sick. I'm also taking tomorrow off to get some rest so I can be fully back on my feet on Wednesday.

On a major sidenote, if anyone is interested, I'll once more restate that I have a new music review blog, www.turnoffthatnoise.blogspot.com. I've been covering all sorts of music, both old and new, but since my rate of keeping up with music with any regularity is pretty slow these days, some of the reviews may seem completely irrelevant. But hey. Whatevz.

The wedding is in eleven and a half days. Wow. It's crazy that, after such a long time of waiting for marriage (since fifteen, even if it was just for sex then**), it's finally going to be here. Yesterday, I gave Michelle the letters that I had written for my wife over the past four years (with no sort of regularity at all). It was funny, because the very first letter mentioned that I was 'currently very attracted to my friend Michelle...but I don't think that would happen. But if that is you, that'd be really funny.' And guess what? It was funny. It was strange to look over those letters again. As much as I've changed since I started writing those letters, the core of Nathaniel was the same then as it is now. I'm just taller now. A tiny, tiny bit taller, but taller nonetheless.

Eleven and a half days. Shoot.

*My dad just told me about a friend he has that makes this joke. But, the proper French meaning and spelling was so ingrained in my mind that I completely missed the say/c'est pun.

**don't get me wrong: I'm still looking forward to that too, just not only that.

Once more, On Music

2010-04-14T17:04:00.001-04:00

I'm starting a music blog. That's right.

Check it out here.

On marriage

2010-04-13T00:29:00.005-04:00

My parents' divorce is finally starting to move. Mediation begins in a few weeks. It's bittersweet, because on one hand, the tension of their daily interactions will finally be resolved, but on the other...you know. It's a divorce. They're rarely happy affairs. (Although sometimes they're caused by happy affairs)

A couple close friends of mine are surprisingly not being divorced. After dropping off of the face of the planet for a few months, husband came back, realizing what each of them had done wrong and newly determined to make it work. "Realizing the problem is there doesn't fix the problem," he told me. I did not expect this at all. Maybe I should have held hope for longer, but I didn't want to be disappointed.

I'm getting married in two weeks plus four days. Yesterday, I was sitting next to Michelle in church and I realized: I will be sitting next to this woman in church for the rest of my life. I will be sitting across the table from her, on the couch with her, sleeping in bed with her, in the car with her, my entire life. Starting May 1, 2010, the days I spend apart from her will be few and far between. All of my life, I have been surrounded by marriages with varying levels of toxicity, whether it be my own family, people in my church, close friends. I have seen couples happier than we grow to resent and despise one another. I have seen how more time together can embitter a man to his wife or a woman to her husband.

Far more rarely but much more notably, I have also seen marriages drowning with grace--grace for who the other person is, their weaknesses, their struggles, their irritating habits, their differing sleep patterns, their differences in decorating opinions. It reminds me that, like a commitment to Christ and His ministry of reconciliation, a marriage commitment is something that needs to be constantly overflowing with grace, and grace, and grace, and grace. Not only that, but I can't just see some girl in the food court and be all, '@wife we had a good run. see you later #speedydivorce.'

So I, sitting next to Michelle in church, realizing the weight of the decision I've made, looked at her and thought, 'if I'm going to make a commitment to anyone, it might as well be superawesomehotgirl Michelle.'

Because when it comes to marriage, I don't think it's as much about finding the right person as it is making right decisions for that person. And I'm positive that even when I don't, Michelle will take my wrong decisions and cover them with grace, and grace, and grace, and grace.

Top Ten

2010-04-09T00:06:00.004-04:00

Alright, this started as a Facebook comment, and I needed a different forum.

These are the ten most impacting records on my life, in chronological order.

1. Project 86 - Drawing Black Lines
Before I heard this album, I really only listened to Weird Al and the Star Wars soundtracks. This record began to show me what kind of power music had.

2. The Ataris - Blue Skies, Broken Hearts...Next 12 Exits/End is Forever
I listened to these two records back to back to back in eighth and ninth grade--during which time I saw my first relationship, my first break up, my first kiss with a stranger, and my first real rebellion. The Ataris both enforced that rebellion and, in more introspective moments, helped me realize that I wasn't happy there.

3. The Juliana Theory - Emotion is Dead
The first emo record I ever heard, and I immediately started growing out my hair and playing acoustic guitar. No joke.

4. Weezer - Pinkerton
I don't think this needs an explanation. Just a metal fist. lml =w=

5. Sunny Day Real Estate - How It Feels To Be Something On
During a time in my life when I was playing mostly Thursday and Thrice influenced heavy emocore, SDRE grabbed a hold of me and showed me just how pretty emo could be.

6. mewithoutYou - [A-->B] Life/Brother, Sister
Because I can't choose. These albums represent such different periods in my life. I first bought A-->B for six dollars at the church camp bookstore. I hated it at first, but I forced myself to listen to it. A few weeks later, my girlfriend of two years broke up with me. Needless to say, that record got a lot of play. Brother, Sister came out during my sophomore year of college, and it opened up so much about God that had been clouded previously. Lyrically, musically, and spiritually, it crushed me and built me back up the first time I heard it the whole way through. And the Jeremy Enigk cameo didn't hurt.

7. Mae - The Everglow
At the time of this album's release, I had finally done most of my wandering and found my way back to God (in one way or the other), and I identified myself so much with the journey taken by the main character in the record. It was also during a time where I had thrown out all of my secular music, and this album was one of the first 'Christian CDs I bought after the great Purge, and I was pleased with it.

8. The Mars Volta - De-Loused in the Comatorium/Sigur Ros - ( )
These were the first secular albums I let myself listen to after months of listening to only 'Christian' music. And God let me know that He'll dwell wherever creation is, no matter what the people who create it think of Him. They're just so dynamic and crushing. I would often put on ( ) and just lose the next hour and a half, and I would awake from the trance feeling like I was just born.

9. Bright Eyes - I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning
The first folk record I ever bought. It set me off on three years of writing primarily folk songs.

10. Brand New - The Devil and God are Raging Inside Me
Ear and heart shatteringly vulnerable. Very few records have ever had the emotional impact on me that this record does. It had way more to do with the almost disturbingly personal portrayal of spiritual struggle that my music has taken on than any other record. I sometimes feel like Jesse Lacey is a very close friend of mine, and we're just exchanging these narratives.

Spring Broke

2010-04-05T14:59:00.002-04:00

I love being a substitute teacher. Seriously, the best job in the whole world. Maybe. Maybe third or fourth best. The kids are great, and if they aren't great, they're at least funny.

However. This week, kids around the nation are celebrating spring break. One of the students I work with a lot is going to Arizona. He's very excited.

And me? I'm staying right here in Mishawaka, not working and not getting paid.

It's not that bad. It's good to be in a position where I can miss being paid for a week and not starve or get evicted or get my power shut off. And it's going to give me some time to get some things done around the apartment, like painting the entertainment center or getting internet set up or bike downtown or just play guitar with my old amp that I just bought back from the friend I sold it to and some new pedals.

And, the wedding is in four weeks minus two days. Hot dang.

God is good.

March Thirty-first, Twenty-ten.

2010-03-31T18:55:00.002-04:00

Today is my soon-to-be nephew's fourth birthday. Four was my favorite age. We had a kind of party for him last night, but he wasn't feeling too well, so we just had some cake and presents. His maternal grandparents are here from Sweden until Tuesday, so this was a good time for his birthday.

I bought my old guitar amp back from the friend I sold it to a few years ago back from him today. It's good to have it back. It's like suddenly rediscovering an old friend.

Michelle and I are having a picnic this evening. As much as I dislike people complaining about bad weather, I'm so glad for the sun's return.

Today, the class I was in had a visiting teacher that spoke about recycling and then taught them about haiku, and had them write some haiku about the earth. Naturally, I wrote a few.

Do your part to care

For Earth: always keep closed the

refrigerator.

The earth surrounds me

I look around, and I see

trees, bees, peas, and knees

You down with hippies?

They are down with Mother Earth

Mess with her; with them.

"Oh, my recyclers,"

Captain Planet bids you, "Be

also bicyclers!"

(these next two are from the perspective of Captain Planet)

Ugh. Oh, pollution

My band and abhoréd foe

I'm comin' for ya.

Um. Did you just throw

that toxic waste in the woods?

You just made my list.

I had a good day today.

Discovery

2010-03-27T10:37:00.003-04:00

This week, I had the pleasure of substitute teaching at my old middle school. I was expecting to see a few teachers that I had, and I did. But I wasn't expecting to be revisited with how much those teachers meant to me.

Some background: I was a really insecure kid in elementary school, and didn't really come into my own until around seventh and eighth grade. But, being between the walls I walked as I found out who I was, I remembered just how much each of my teachers fostered that. Especially Mrs. Stutzman.

In fifth grade, there was an activity we did where we had a picture of a brain, and we had to divide it up into sections that represented each subject in school. The size of each section depended on how interested we were in the subject. I distinctly remember asking my teacher if I needed to have every subject in our diagram, because I wasn't interested in music at all. She said I had to, so I made it as small as could muster, and made it the ugliest color I could find.

Going into middle school, I was disappointed to find that I HAD to pick a music class. Wanting to do as little as possible, I signed up for Piano Lab with Mrs. Stutzman. Now...if I wanted to keep my indifference to music intact, this was absolutely the wrong choice. The first week of class, she taught us the grand scale, and played the entire class through a simple version of Ode To Joy. And I discovered that I could create music. My world was flipped. I didn't care much about science anymore (in elementary school if anyone asked what I wanted to be, it was a scientist). My mom bought me a keyboard from RadioShack, and I would come home from school and just sit down at the keyboard for hours--BEFORE I played Mario, even. Keyboard became the new most important thing, and I quickly excelled in Mrs. Stutzman's class. Then, in seventh grade, there was a three week guitar unit, right after my mom gave me a bass guitar. It whet my appetite a little, but I was still focused on the piano. The next year, after I had started working on bass at home, Mrs. Stutzman let me bring it in during the guitar unit. Then, after the guitar unit wrapped up, she let a handful of us continue the guitar unit in the hallway. For about half of that year, my Piano Lab class consisted of sitting out in the hallway with a few friends playing Blink-182 songs.

And there, in the hallway playing punk rock, I found myself.

Goodness, Faithfulness, Holiness, etc.

2010-03-04T23:10:00.005-05:00

Today and yesterday, I substituted in two different preschool classes. Children are so incredible. I think my favorite thing about them is how they are completely free from prejudice. In each class, there were several students with mild to severe disabilities, but the other kids didn't look down on them. They were their friend, and that was that. One of my favorites was a little girl with a birth defect that made her arms very shot. When we went outside, she and one of the other teachers jumped rope, and she could jump about ten times before the rope hit her legs. And she was the happiest child I've ever seen. Then today when we went outside, I was chased for about ten minutes by at least eleven four year olds.

Michelle's dad's last day at his job is tomorrow. He's been preparing for them to lay him off, but it still is hard when it finally comes. It's alright, though. He hated that job, and he rarely sits still. If the past few weeks of my life is any testament, the Lord will provide generously.

The other night, I was reading Romans and I came to the verse were the Lord says, 'I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy,' and for the first time didn't read that as, 'I'm the Lord, and I get to send whoever I want to Hell, no matter how good of a person they are' and instead read it as, 'I will forgive whoever I want to forgive, whether you think they're good enough or not.' I think that's more in line with His character. He forgives a lot of people we hate.

My parents are getting a divorce, and it's not going as well as maybe we've hoped. My mom's been staying somewhere else until things are finalized. I haven't seen her in two weeks. But hopefully in a week, I'll be living elsewhere. My apartment application is being processed and the super said she'd try to get me something by Monday. Incredible.

I had coffee with the youth pastor of the Vineyard today, which about half functioned as an interview for some level of involvement. At one point he asked me, 'Why do you love God?' My answer was something like:

Shoot, because I can't help it. He's too good. I'd love to just ignore it and be a selfish bastard, but He's just too good. In the past, I've tried to respond to that with as little as I could get away with, but He's just too good for me to just sit there and be a complete ass. I have to do something about it.

He really is just too good to just sit there and not see it, no matter what's going on.

Submarine, pt II.

2010-02-27T23:48:00.004-05:00

While subbing at Hums Elementary the past few days, part of my daily duties were to assist a boy named Tyler as he ate lunch. Tyler is eight years old, knows what Paul Revere yelled while riding through the countryside, loves Veggie Tales, and is rapidly going blind. While I sat with him at lunch, I watched him as his eyes stared up to the tops of the curtains in the cafeteria, desperately trying to see his surroundings. But, he couldn't, and the frustration was written all over his face, which was riddled with the pain of being defeated. Even the way he spoke communicated his hopelessness, speaking quietly and stammering through his words. And I will be completely honest. The first time I met Tyler, I found it a little more difficult to believe that there was an all powerful, all knowing God who loves us. Why would this eight year old be going blind if there was? I sat and talked with Tyler, thinking, 'God, what do You think You're doing?'

But there was something else about Tyler. Or rather, about the way everyone else reacted to him. Just about every student who passed Tyler said hello and offered to help him. Kid after kid walked by him and said hello so that they were sure he heard them. In the lunch line, two or three kids asked him what kind of milk he wanted. A little girl helped him find his chair. Someone else offered to take his trash up. And as I saw all of these seven and eight and nine year olds interacting with this boy, I thought, 'Oh, there You are.'

Friday was my last consecutive day working with Tyler. After he finished watching his video in the resource room I was working in (he did so from two inches from the screen), he stood up and turned to where he thought I was. Staring into his darkness looking for me, he raised his hand up. 'Goodbye, goodbye,' he said timidly. He left the room, and a few seconds later, he walked back in. He looked back toward me and stammered, 'Th-thank you, Mister FiiizGera.'

Thank you, Tyler.

Submarine

2010-02-23T20:22:00.002-05:00

About a month ago, I attended the inservice for Mishawaka Schools, thus putting me into the substitute teaching service. A few days later, my Aunt Sue, who is a program assistant for two special needs second graders, called me to substitute for her some morning. I did, gladly, and enjoyed myself greatly. In the days that followed, I checked the automated system regularly, but was entirely unable to find any assignments. And so, I took my job search elsewhere--Starbucks, Best Buy, etc. There was a job fair at a Starbucks where they would be performing open interviews for full time positions. I arrived, confident in my chance and in my cafe experience, and was shortly told that the positions they were hiring required Sunday morning positions, which I can't give because of my involvement with the worship team. I left, almost dumbfounded, started my car and stared into my unemployment. "Lord, what do you have for me?"

The day after, I attended the inservice at Penn Schools, and hoped to find some jobs through that corporation, even though the pay is five dollars less per day. The next day, I was on the automated system's website, trying to figure out the multi-district options. While doing that, I went to the view of my preferred schools for Mishawaka. I was baffled; I had marked every school, every day, yet I was entirely unable to find any jobs. But lo! What is this? Above the list of schools--two previously unnoticed check marks. The first: "I would like to receive assignments from the schools marked below." My gaff: I had marked the second.

So I fixed THAT, and I've worked everyday since. First, subbing for the least organized social studies teacher at Mishawaka's social studies classes. Today and yesterday, I was subbing for a first grade class, which was much more of a handful. I love five and six year olds, but in small groups. Sixteen is not a small group, especially when all of them want to be your best friend and tell you everything about their lives all of the time. But, nevermind. I love them in large groups, too. Then, tomorrow, I'm subbing for another program assistant who was in my class in second grade.

It's good to have a job. Especially when Michelle and I just filled out an application for an apartment.

The Lord provides.

Jazz

2010-02-10T01:07:00.002-05:00

If you've been following my status updates on Facebook, you've probably already figured out that I've been getting really into jazz lately. That's not even the half of it, really. I'm drowning in it. What started as a growing interest in cool jazz has turned into an all out submersion in bebop, hard bop, post bop, fusion, free-jazz, and the like. I've read more Wikipedia albums, downloaded more music, and read more online guitar lessons in the past three days than I have in the past month. Charles Mingus, Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Count Basie, Herbie Hancock, Sun Ra, Charlie Parker, Duke Ellington--they're all over my mind. And as for learning how to play jazz, my scales have suddenly grown from seven notes to eleven, and my fingers are fumbling and jumping and stuttering all over my strings. And can I just say how much modal jazz has opened up the way I write music? I can already see the influence it's going to have on future projects.

And the space--good Lord, the space! There's so much space in jazz to just let things happen. Like in Miles Davis' Kind of Blue, in the segments where the rhythm section just holds a groove and waits--sometimes for several measures--for Miles or Cannonball or Coltrane to make something happen. And in free-jazz, they take that space and they use up every bit of it they can. Free-jazz especially has changed the way I hear the world around me. I recognize different creaks in a door hinge as the door lazily swings open. I hear syncopation and borrowed rhythms in my footsteps and in dishes falling into the sink. I hear the chords created by water running through the pipes or cars driving by. And above all, I hear the wide open space of life, just holding its groove and waiting for something to happen.

Jazz has taken everything I know about music and broken it wide open. Ever since taking music theory in high school, I've understood music pretty well. I recognized the forms and the progressions and the melodies and the scales as things I understood in a sort of formula--well, not exactly a formula, but something pliable that I could still manage with my own hands. And the thing is, even in that seven note, four scale world, music was still so much more to me than the sum of its parts. But jazz--it's easy to get bored listening to anything else after listening to John Coltrane's Ascension. Not much sounds exciting compared to eight guys cutting improvising their own parts at the same time. This isn't to say that I dislike all other music now--the upper level of my spectrum is just broken wide open.

But the biggest thing...jazz has taught me more about life and God than any other type of music. Mostly, the space. There's so much space in life, and God's holding down His groove just waiting for us to do something. And a lot of times, He'll give us a lead in. But since jazz and life are both improvised, there's room for mistakes. So much more room than we with our western scale, top 40, over produced ears allow for.

Album release

2010-02-02T00:04:00.003-05:00

The Sparrow & The Whale is finally finished and released. I was writing the liner notes in a text document, and I realized that this album has been a huge part of my life for the past three years. Each song was a huge part of me when I wrote it. I remember the dark, dark days where I sang Sister's Winter Coat, Brother's Tennis Shoes back to back with The Sparrow & The Whale. I remember an amazing (albeit complicated) beginning to a wonderful friendship that spawned The Trollopw & The Troubadour, and then the year after where I found myself living in the wrong direction and writing Trees & Towers, Floods & Fires as an admission of that. Then, a few weeks later, writing Wings on a church camp bunk before the campers arrived with the other counselors standing in the doorway listening. And as time went on, those songs started to trap me. Sister's Winter Coat became a two and a half minute filler. The Trollop & The Troubadour grew too long to sing. Trees & Towers, even moreso. Song For Everyone was the annoying pop song I had to play or people would get angry instead of the anthem to friendship it was when it was written. Sparrow was the only song I felt I had any freedom to move around in--I added drum machines, trumpets, electric guitars...it was the only song on the album I really enjoyed, even when recording became a chore.

I remember getting my MacBook and messing around on Garage Band, and the record suddenly became fun again. I would scream in octaves out of my range to create a background part that wouldn't be heard above the rest of the sounds anyway. My roommate Justin laughed and told me I was crazy. Then after I moved to Chicago is where things really started to move. One day, I was fiddling around with the new version of Sister's Winter Coat, and I was playing trumpet along with it. Mind you, I don't play trumpet that well. But Kriss was disappointed when he found out I wasn't recording, so in went a trumpet track. And then a cello track. And then an electric piano. Suddenly, the experimental spirit I had when I first started the album in the dining room of our farm house returned full force. And for the past few months, that is all I've done with the songs. I've experimented. I added bass parts for the first time (which all rock). And it made it fun again.

And now, on the night of the release, years after the writing, months after the tinkering, and a day after all of the mixing is complete...the songs are finally songs. They're no longer projects to tweak and add to and edit.

And it's all pouring out of me.

Thank God for completion.

Now onto the next album.

Haiti

2010-01-14T12:21:00.002-05:00

I always feel terribly uncomfortable when catastrophe strikes parts of the world that I have no connection to. I've always feared that this is because I didn't want to interrupt my usual schedule to grieve for those affected. But after letting that initial resistance wear off, I just read a couple articles about the earthquake in Port-au-Prince--one was the Associated Press overview on the Yahoo! website, and the other was a blog post by someone who knows an American couple who run an orphanage in the capital. The orphanage has collapsed and the couple and the children are now living in the yard next to the ruins. She made pleas for people to contact the Senate to get the children to the United States, where they can be adopted and have clean water, which no one in Port-au-Prince has now.

And I think I realize, I don't feel uncomfortable because I don't want to be bothered. I feel uncomfortable because I feel so damned powerless to do anything about it. And I really don't like that feeling.

Twenty Ten

2010-01-06T12:56:00.003-05:00

Post-holiday stress levels seem so low in comparison with the holidays themselves. Michelle and I did an awful lot of traveling--to west Michigan the week before Christmas to visit her extended family, and to east Michigan a couple days after to visit mine. They all like her more than they like me. I don't mind. I like her more than I like me too.

Barnes and Noble has been nice enough to give me two weeks off. That is to say, I am at the bottom of the totem poll and everyone before are getting all the hours before I am. Not that I mind too much. It's giving me time to look for a new job. I had breakfast with one of the associate pastors at Vineyard about an internship there. It wouldn't pay much more than gas, but it would give a lot of opportunity to serve, which is what everyone I know who's worked in ministry told me to do. I still have the substitute application that I've been holding onto, and now that Christmas break is over, school's back in. There are also a few children's homes that I'll be sending applications to. And I'll probably send Woodwind and Brasswind my resume.

I picked up the new Flaming Lips record today (Embryonic). It's so bleeding fantastic. It's one of those records that make me want to grab a bass guitar and a drum machine and throw something onto tape.
Other records I've been enjoying a lot lately:
Portishead - Third
Grizzly Bear - Vecktimest
Deerhunter - Cryptograms
The Beach Boys - Pet Sounds (allegedly the greatest pop album ever recorded. I started listening to it while driving, and instead of going home, I sat in the McDonald's parking lot and let it play through. Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant)

I recorded a little instrumental track for the next album (this one isn't done yet though) and put it on my myspace. It's called 'o be still be still be still.' It's a little more experimental than some other things I've done. The rest of the album will be similar in that way.

Michelle made me a paper chain to count down to the wedding. On the inside of each ring, she wrote a memory, something she loves about me, or a prayer for us. I greatly appreciate and enjoy that woman.

Thank You, Lord, for Your blessings.

All I Want For Christmas

2009-12-21T02:30:00.002-05:00

is a slightly better job.

I've talked with some children's homes and the media pastor at the Vineyard, and there are a few options that look better than Barnes and Noble's cafe (any of those options, substitute teaching, etc).

Today, Michelle and I drove to Muskegon, MI to visit her parents' families. They are absolutely crazy. In the best way.
Mostly.

Also. Why is this coat so expensive on every site I find it on, and in every brand that makes it?

2009-12-04T02:48:00.002-05:00

No updates in a while. I've been busy, what, with having an alright job, the hours of which I wish were a little more regular, and planning a wedding, for which we found a church.

I'm also playing with the worship band at the Vineyard now. It's helping me get over myself and put personal preferences aside.

Life is good.

On insomnia, planning, and anxiety.

2009-11-23T16:32:00.002-05:00

It's becoming obvious that being financially stable is not the be-all end-all of nervousness. And, being engaged has had some interesting effects--notably a more pointed feeling of insufficiency and a lack of self control. I have a hard enough time getting my mind to slow down to sleep as it is, and neither of these really help.
Last night as I struggled against wakefulness, the old promise came into my head -- Be still, and know that I am God. Except that meant a much, much, much different thing to me than it ever did. The statement 'I am God' rattled my whole being and grew and grew and grew, and I was terrified. A great and dreadful hand grabbed my bed in its palm and lifted it. I am God, it said. And as I began to understand the Bigness that held me and my sleepless mattress in its terrifying palm, it grew larger and pulled me out of my house and held me one hundred feet above the ground. I am God. I looked down and then into the Great Face that looked on me with its huge and terrible eyes. I looked back down to the ground and was as high as if I'd been in an airplane. I looked back to the Great Face, and to the hand that held me, and it continued to grow.
The Hand continued to lift me and I watched the ground grow further away--out of its orbit, out of the solar system, out of the galaxy, until all the universe was too small to notice. My bed now sat on a ridge of the Great Hand's fingerprint. From a thousand thousands of miles away, the Great Face still looked as if it were right before me.
You don't understand, it said.
I am God.

Oh, be still, be still, be still.

Fiance Knowles

2009-11-14T02:52:00.000-05:00

If you like it, put a ring on it.

Employmentville, USA

2009-11-09T21:36:00.002-05:00

I have my orientation for the Barnes & Noble Cafe tomorrow evening.
Hurrah!
Now after I get some paychecks under my belt, I can start doing things with my life.
But until then, I've got some things to do.
Like finish an album.
Or finish the Brothers Karamazov
Or tease my girlfriend.

2009-11-03T11:41:00.001-05:00

I am very thankful for new beginnings.

And, for mixtapes.
Multitrack Sneakattack, vol VIII: Otto Octavius' Top Picks

Nyah, See. Nyah

2009-10-21T16:15:00.002-04:00

Alright,so here's how the story goes.

I moved to Chicago a few months ago, and it was, without exaggeration, the saddest period of my life. I was constantly worrying about money and finding a job while missing Michelle and my family and everyone else that I left in South Bend. But really, I was fine with living in Chicago, I told myself. I just needed to find a job and make some more friends and I wouldn't be so down about it. I started going to an open mic night at a bar and to a church, and I started making friends. Then I found a job with a tutoring company--a very fulfilling position--and made more friends there.
But, hold the phone: I still wasn't happy living there. All sorts of things about living in the city just grated on me--traffic, noise, the hurriedness--and there were all sorts of things back at home that I missed--most notably, the art community that some of my college friends began to put together that I couldn't be a part of in Chicago. I did some soul searching and admitted to myself (and others around me) that the only reason I felt so sure that God led me to Chicago was because He didn't stop me from coming, and that part of me was afraid that if I were to stop and think and pray about the move in the first place, I might have to admit that it wasn't for me, nullifying months of anticipation and telling people about it, and that most of the reason I was planning on staying in Chicago was because I didn't want to admit defeat to the city. Those aren't really good reasons though, so I made plans to move back in December (or March, depending when and who you ask.)
Last week, after coming back to work after a week off of recruiting, I asked my manager when tutoring would start. He responded that it was up in the air because the Chicago Public School district had made a huge number of budget cuts, reducing our company by 60%. At the end of the day, he couldn't tell me whether or not I would have a job in a week. So I went back and talked it over with my roommates, and we came to an agreement we were all happy with. The next day (Thursday) I started packing. Friday, I loaded up my van and took half of my stuff back home and cleared out a space in the bedroom/storageclosetIuseasabedroom. Michelle came after work with two frozen pizzas, cookies, strawberries, and a bottle of wine. The next day, we both went back to Chicago and loaded up the rest of my stuff and talked with Kriss and Mellie (who have borne the burden of my fiscal irresponsibility and flightiness much more than anyone the past few months, and have been patient enough with me that our friendship is still intact. Try asking that of anyone else) a little before we left, leaving 1523 N Campbell as my place of residence. Then on the way back, it was my turn to buy pizza.

Two months ago, it wouldn't have been good for me to move back at all. I would have been coming back defeated with my tail between my legs and a five dollar bill in my pocket. But now, having looked at my circumstances and decisions long and hard, I'm at peace with coming back. Now, I have to find a job and raise money for my own place in the next couple months. And I'm fine with that.
And now, YOU just have to download the zip file for the weekly mix and load it up. No more arranging the songs on your own, folks.

Multitrack Sneakattack, Vol VII: Nathaniel Strikes Back!

2009-10-18T19:54:00.001-04:00

So long, Mr. Pua.

Spoiledsport

2009-10-13T13:39:00.004-04:00

This past week spoiled me way too much.
I didn't really think about coming back to Chicago until last night, and I was just as content as anyone to just stay there. But, I still have things to do in Chicago until I move back, and I need to focus on living here for now. It will be a good two months.
Yesterday was Michelle and my fivemonthiversary. I couldn't ask for a better woman to have shared the past five months with. A few of those months have been filled with the hardest lessons I've ever learned--especially the lesson of becoming a grown up. She's been so patient with me through all of my incredulity and impatience and immaturity and fiscal irresponsibility and insecurity and feelings of inadequacy and...
everything.
She's going to be on the news tonight. I wish I could see it.

But, at least I have a project to keep me busy until November. I've got to finish that album. I only have two songs to go, and a drum track on another. Then I'll be adding little flourishes and mixing it to perfection. Definitely shouldn't take me more than two weeks, as long as I kick my rear in gear.

Le Retour

2009-10-09T10:14:00.002-04:00

I've been in South Bend since Tuesday night. In that time, I have come to be very pleased with my decision to move back at Christmas. A lot of this came about from the first (rpac)* meeting I've attended since deciding to be part of it, and I'm incredibly excited for the direction that group is heading--including the recently acquired official position of a non-profit organization. The people in (rpac) and the ideas and passions they have just astound me.
I'm also realizing that this area has so much more potential than I've tapped into.
Besides that, it will be wonderful to see more of Michelle, and my family, and my friends left at Bethel.
(contented sigh)

Times like these call for a new weekly mixtape!
Multitrack Sneakattack, Vol VI: Goat-Face Killah's Greatest Hits

*River Parks Art Community

My Vow

2009-10-03T00:03:00.002-04:00

The Sparrow & The Whale will be finished by November 1st.

How about a mixtape?
More specifically, how about a mixtape chronicling my favorite cover versions? Yeah? Okay.
Multitrack Sneakattack, Vol V: Under the Covers

The idea now is that I'll be moving back to South Bend in March after Brain Hurricane is finished. At that point, I'll be trying to get a job at Bashor's Childrens Home and looking for my own place and never, ever, ever taking that town or the people inside of it for granted again.

The Last Day of September; The First Day of October

2009-10-01T20:53:00.002-04:00

Today was a very long day, but at least I found out I don't have tuberculosis. Good news.
Yesterday was also a very long day. Shall I tell you a tale?

I shall.

Two nights ago, I went over to dear Chelsea's apartment because she had been looking for a bike on Craigslist, and had someone that would possibly give it to her that night, so she needed a ride out to the suburbs. And so I went, and we waited, but to no avail. The person who had inquired after the bike first had arrived, claiming what was rightfully Chelsea's. I mean, claiming what was rightfully the person's who asked after it first.
But!
Later that night, the bikeholder (whose email address was BooDawgMama...I'll let your imaginations wander) emailed Chelsea to tell her that she had ANOTHER bike! What good news! So she called me, and I agreed to drive her to claim her bike, and in return, she would cook me dinner (which was a very excellent dinner) and give me apple pie, since she had no cash for gas money.
I arrive at her apartment and we get in my car and input the address into Judy, my trusty GPS, who told me that our destination was one hour and three minutes away. 'Funny,' Chelsea said, 'Google Maps said it was only forty-five minutes away.' I explained that I found a way to get Judy to avoid tolls, which is probably the reason for the difference in estimated times. But, an hour didn't sound that bad, so we set off.
Oh, but wait. It was rush hour.
Oh, and also. There was construction.
Oh! Don't forget! The house was impossible to find.
Not only were there no street lights on the street in question (which had gravel driveways. I felt like I was in northern Michigan again), but the house numbers were impossible to see. We asked someone where 305 was, and they said, 'this is 351, so it should be a few houses down.'
We drove a few hundred feet in the opposite direction, and Chelsea got out to check the address. 301. We drove to the next house. 303. We drove to the next house--our destination.
309? Really? Where was 305?
'Oh look! I see it there, through the trees,' says I. Only problem is--there's no driveway. So Chelsea calls BooDawgMama, who tells her that the driveway is actually off of a different street. We follow her directions and arrive to claim Chelsea's bike--two hours after we left.

So we load the bike into the back of my minivan (now named Concordia, in honor of her place of rebirth), and I tell Judy that it's okay to take us down tolls again. It's not worth adding more than an hour to our trip to save 80 cents. So we drive out of the boonies and back into the suburbs, then onto I-90.
Just then, as we were waiting in the cash lane to pay our meager toll, a funny thing happened.
As all of the cars are negotiating the two lanes become eight, several cars seemed to be obstructed by something. They pulled away an revealed a stopped car with its hazard lights blinking. I've been stranded before (specifically, on the road trip, with Chelsea and Brenden (who we missed and talked of missing very much), and I know how wonderful it is to be rescued by someone who has exactly what you need--like jumper cables maybe, like the pair in my car.
I pulled over next to the stalled fellow and asked if he needed a jump. 'Yeah! Do you have cables?' I answered that I did, and I put on my hazards (taking as much joy in blocking another lane of traffic as I was helping this fellow) and we jumped his car. I got back into the car and looked at Chelsea. 'Hyrum didn't raise no fool,' I said.
And half an hour later, we were back at her apartment. I skyped Michelle as Chelsea made a very satisfying pasta and steak dish with bruschetta cheese (I believe). Then, we ate our dinner as we watched Matchstick Men. I had forgotten how much I like that movie. It's one of Nicholas Cage's very, very few good roles. After the movie, I left, getting back at my apartment at an almost irresponsible 12 30.

Which is foolish considering the day of work I had today. Short version: after our recruiting time at our usual school, we drove to the far far far north side (almost to the suburbs) to go door to door. But! An hour into our two and a half hour process, we had to stop. Someone called and said that we were (quote) too threatening. Hmm.
So we set off to a different school to go door to door there--only to be called halfway there and told that we were just going to take a break and then go to different schools to catch the parents as they were leaving. On our break, Matthew, Alora, Benjamin, and I went to Loyola, which has a beautiful lakeside campus and a breathtaking cathedral, where I sat for a moment and felt like I could breathe for the first time in weeks. Then, we went to different schools to recruit. Unlike every other school I've been to where we talk with parents who speak English, Spanish, or every once in a while Ukrainian or Polish, at this school I was answered with English, Spanish, Hindi, French, some African languages, and some Caribbean dialects. I was astonished.
However, leaving there and going back home was no fun. That is to say, it was just very time consuming, and I was already incredibly tired and just wanted my TB test read so I could go home and rest.

But, I need to learn what real rest is. My soul is tired.

Overwhelm Me

2009-09-28T13:52:00.002-04:00

I need to be overwhelmed by God again. It's been so long since I've just been dumbstruck at His foolish goodness.
I need to not be overwhelmed by money. That means realizing that it's not my paycheck that provides for my needs, but God who does that--sometimes through a paycheck.
I need to be overwhelmed by my love for Chicago. For the past few months, it's just been equivocal with stress and worry--because I've had a very stressful and worrisome few months here, but things are turning around. I need to trust that.
I need to be overwhelmed by my need and desire to create. I need to paint more. I need to record more. I need to play guitar more. I need to write more.
I am already overwhelmed by my girlfriend. That base is already covered, and she continues to surprise me every single day of the week.

Mixtape, everyone.
Multitrack Sneakattack, Vol IV: Crossroads; the Original Motion Picture Soundtrack

Life and Its Happenings

2009-09-21T16:00:00.003-04:00

I said to Michelle the other day that whenever I'm anticipating something, I always forget to keep in mind that life happens--that is to say, for example, if I'm expecting to have a nice evening with Michelle and Lyndsey and my mom for her birthday, something like the wedding reception from Hell will come and keep me from getting back until midnight (at which time I was greeted by a candlelit dinner in Michelle's garage, further cementing her position as best girlfriend ever).

This weekend, I got sick, leading me to spend much less time at Bethel as I would have liked, and much more time wrapped in a blanket eating soup (homemade soup, at that). Ah, well. Michelle took care of me, and even though I had to call in to work today, I should be feeling better by tomorrow. The sickness has been progressing, so I know that my body is doing what it's supposed to.

Right now, there isn't really too much I can think to say, except that:
I wish Bekah and I could have seen eachother again under happier circumstances
I'm praying for the Cunninghams & friends

Michelle is a very good person to have taking care of you if you're sick

I missed last week's mixtape.

So here it is.
Multitrack Sneak Attack, Vol. 3: How to Win Friends and Influence People

Ch-ch-ch-changes

2009-09-11T17:38:00.002-04:00

My new work schedule is taking some getting used to. I've been used to going to bed around two or three and waking up around noon. Not so, says Brain Hurricane. Now, I have to wake up in time to be at the school by seven forty-five. Eesh. And then, I hang out with my fellow recruiters, give kids pencils and high fives, and talk to parents about the program. Then an hour after school has started, I walk home, wait four hours, and go back to school before it gets out to do it again. Then the rest of my night is mine--until I go to bed around eleven. I don't mind it, though. The kids are great, and I can't wait to start tutoring.

Also great: Michelle Ferris.
Also can't wait: to see her tomorrow.

Bam.

2009-09-07T23:38:00.000-04:00

I start work tomorrow. Awesome.

Thank you, Lord, for your provision.

Multitrack Sneakattack, Vol 2: Electric Buggaloo

2009-09-04T22:53:00.003-04:00

Alright, everyone. It's that time of week again...
The weekly mixtape.

This one is a bit more eclectic than the last--not too often do you find both the folk of The Tallest Man on Earth and the experimental trip-hop of Portishead on the same playlist, but I was in an eclectic mood.
Like last time, download the zip file and then expand it and open the files in iTunes, create a new playlist, and drag the songs in according to the order in the text document.

For your consideration,
Multitrack Sneakattack, Vol 2: Electric Buggaloo

I love you all.

Tomorrow, we're catering the Pagan Pride Festival here in Chicago. Yeah. Weird.

Also, I got a job. I'm working for a tutoring company called Brain Hurricane. I start recruiting on Tuesday. Tutoring starts in mid October.
Thank you, Jesus.

Doubts and Answers

2009-09-03T18:14:00.002-04:00

I've been very worried lately. I took a walk around town last night and just watched listened--someone was playing saxophone inside of their apartment with a window open, an incredibly talented latino band was playing in a yard filling the street with guitar solos, a child hung from a tree branch and told an older girl, 'help! I can't hold on!' and so much more--but I was still crushed by the tension between the present and the future and the crushing fact that I'm living in the city without a steady income, feeling like I'm just taking up an apartment. And I walked through town listening to all of the life going on around me, so crushed by my worries that I had to start singing a simple chorus to myself to keep from being completely discouraged:
'Jesus blood never failed me yet
never failed me yet
Jesus blood never failed me yet.
This one thing I know,
for He loves me so'

I got back to my apartment and checked my email. I got an email from a tutoring company called Brain Hurricane that I had applied for online saying that I seemed like a good fit. Now, I had to schedule an 'audition' (basically an informational meeting and an interview). There happened to be three separate audition times the next day (that's today). I signed up for the one at noon.
Laying down to sleep, I just broke. 'Daddy, I'm scared,' I said (I can't remember the last time I called God that). 'Remember when you guys were looking for an apartment, and the most promising one didn't work, and you told Kriss that you knew I had an apartment waiting?'
Well, yeah...

'Don't you think I'd have a job waiting for you too?'

And then, I just started laughing.
I'm learning to trust, ever so slowly.

p.s. the interview went very well. Now I just have to wait for them to get back to me.

The List

2009-09-02T01:49:00.003-04:00

Things I need to work on:

being a servant
not being so selfish
not worrying so much
actually spending time with Jesus and not just reading the Bible
living in the present
hardcore job hunting. Like...ten apps a week or something crazy like that.
not being so lazy
coming to grips with my problems with the words 'surrender' and 'obedience'
finding God in everything--even my roommates' cats.

Multitrack Sneakattack, Vol 1

2009-08-30T18:20:00.003-04:00

Alright, y'all. Who likes music? You do? That's right you do. I do too.
That's why now, I'm going to start making mixtapes for you. It's simple, really. All you have to do is follow the link, download the file, unzip it, and then open the text document to put them in the proper order.

Thirteen tracks of musical goodness from Nathaniel's mp3 buffet.
The file is kind of big--I need to figure out how to compress files more--but it should be worth the wait.

Multitrack Sneakattack, Vol. 1: How Nathaniel Defeated the Zombies

Enjoy.

Best. Day. Ever.

2009-08-30T14:26:00.002-04:00

Yesterday, Michelle came to visit.
We bought some passionfruit juice and a frozen pizza, baked it up, pulled out the sofa-bed, and watched Ninja Turtles (the first two).
Her idea. I have the best girlfriend ever.

Then as she was about to leave, her parents called to tell her that they didn't like the idea of her driving home late (it wasn't that late, even--it was quarter to ten).
So, at her parents' suggestion, she stayed the night and we watched The Science of Sleep.

(contented sigh)
Lord, thank you for your blessings.

Bachelorpad

2009-08-26T23:17:00.006-04:00

My roommates are both gone. Mellie is in New Jersey with her family as her grandfather is sick. Kriss then took a trip to Atlanta for a week. And so, I have my own apartment for a few days. Well...I have to share it with some cats, but I still get to do what I want. What that's meant so far is listening to a bunch of the music that Kriss gripes about and painting in the bathroom (it's the best place for it, really).

A couple of guys from church asked me if I wanted to get together to play music sometime. Of course I did, so they came over on Friday night to jam. Derrick played bass and laid some smooth basslines I never would have thought of. Eric played drums and had some sweet abstract angular beats that I loved. Then, they started talking about how we were a band.
That's sweet.

I'm not dreading being alone this week as I would have been a while ago. Good thing I learned how to not hate myself. This week would be a disaster otherwise.

You think you know, but you have know idea

2009-08-19T02:56:00.005-04:00

Today, I hung out with my friend Cody and his dad and cousin. Cody starts at Moody next weekend. We went to the Lincoln Park Zoo.

The past few days, Mellie has been in New Jersey with her family. Her grandfather has been in the hospital, wavering between the brink of death and surprising her doctors. Uncertainty surrounds everything.

Michelle visited this past weekend. Word on the street is, her dad was curious to see how an entire weekend with me would affect our relationship. If you ask me, I'll tell you it strengthened our resolve. If you ask her, she'll tell you it made her love me more.
I miss her. A lot.

I'm visiting South Bend this weekend, so I'll get to see her, as well as many other people, and I'll get to run a bunch of errands I've needed to get done (trading vans, dropping Sonia's painting off, etc.)

I wrote another poem. That's three for three. This is probably the shortest poem I've written in years. Michelle said the other day that it's okay for a poem to be short. I've just never been able to write a short poem.

There Is No Place
The sky bled
like a battle field under neon lights
and I walked
'neath the train to the place I'd rest my head
that still won't feel like home
regardless how much I call it such.

And my bed
which yet feels not like mine
will house my head
as I lay in wait for rest,
but none shall come
as my mind revolves around itself.

Another dang poem.

2009-08-18T02:21:00.005-04:00

I don't know who to blame--
The Crossings
T.S. Eliot
or Greg Fox.

...More Than Many Sparrows
Our Father
Who art in Heaven;
Hallowed be Thy name
that hangs on my lip
as I mutter my prayers
with Your Cross between
my finger and thumb
as they rub together
like the friction between
my todays & tomorrows
wearing away the shirt I wear
(Lord, can I afford a new one?)
but I am worth more
than the grass of the field
(or at least that's what You said)

so

give us this day
our daily bread
and more,
for the excess
that will give me
comfort
and I, alive,
as Thou provides,
will praise
but if Thou wills
my scraping by,
then I'm not so sure
that I can promise that

but

Thine is the Kingdom
mine is the worry
Thine is the Power
mine is the worry
Forever and ever,
mine is the worry.

Amen.

Four/Three

2009-08-17T03:34:00.005-04:00

I
The yellow light seeps out the lamp
through the space between
my apartment wall and the wall next door
and into my bedroom window
onto your hair
golden, tossed upon the pillow
as you sleep beneath my arm,
and I wish that I could sleep,
but my head is wrapped around
hours before
on the step
in the space between
my apartment wall and the wall next door
as you peered through
Chicago's fog of lamps
“look, there's still four stars here”
but I only could make out three.

II
(A street sign
scribbled out
in an alphabet
I never learned
directs one way
then another
then another
then...
we'll follow them
until we get lost
or at least until
the meter runs out)

III
I walk into the street
the driving cars unwatched by my eye
as it stares to the ground before my feet
and why don't I look where I'm going
or what do I think I'm doing
or I could get myself killed
but my eyes have always been
easily distracted
by the thoughts that plague my mind
either those of joy
(walking arm in arm with one you love)
or those of pain
(what is owed, what is earned,
the difference, and the deficit)

IV
A man staggers in
as I wait to use the sink
a cigarette in his mouth, unlit,
and he spills his excess into the urinal
and staggers out
the cigarette unlit still
hanging loosely from his lip
held by some miracle
and I, passed by, laugh to myself
at the disinterest he held
in his disinterested hands
as he walked out of the door
and into the City of Life
with his eyes half closed
to the miracle that kept
his cigarette in his mouth.

But we,
so open are our eyes that we
can't help but see the Hand
that holds our hands
as we say our goodbyes.

V
Across the table
each nose in a book
you'll laugh
and I'll ask
and you'll read a phrase
and I
on the other side
simply try
to make sense of Eliot.
('Lord, I am not worthy,
Lord, I am not...')
because for all my ears
I'll never hear
all that the Thunder had to say
(but Lord! how I long to quote it)

VI
Wrapped in a sheet
I could not move
e'en to kiss your head
for exhausted as I was
my eyes could not
for more than a minute
look upon your face
which smiled with my prodding
and said, 'nathaniel,
don't ask questions'
implying that
I already know their answers
And you know as well as I
I just need to make sure,
but no one can be sure—that's sure—
and you never really know
until you know
(but you never know)

VII
And I dread to go back to this apartment
so much emptier now from your leaving
knowing that I'll have to face
that all I've said is okay
is not okay.

(But it's okay.)

Working Class

2009-08-09T00:38:00.003-04:00

I really have little idea of what I'm going to do about a job. I'd like something flexible, but I'd also like something that pays enough for me to be able to save a good amount up, and those two things aren't usually combined.

I'd really like a job at Willow Creek. Like, a lot. Or at another church whose ministry is following Christ. But I'm not sure how realistic it is to expect something like that to happen any time soon.

But, time will tell.

A Vision and a Mission without a Plan.

2009-07-27T23:04:00.002-04:00

A quote from my testimony of what God did at Mancelona Camp.

"I just graduated college, so naturally, I have no idea what I'm going to do with my life. But this week, God has been calling me to be a missionary to Wicker Park, the artist neighborhood in Chicago, which is convenient because I just moved there two weeks ago. So, I still don't have a plan, but I have a vision, and that's enough for now."

God be praised.

Chicago days and nights

2009-07-13T19:42:00.002-04:00

I'm starting to get used to this whole being away from home thing. The sting of being in a large and unfamiliar place is losing its bite, and the worries over rent have been taken care of. Now it's mostly just a matter of getting myself established and getting to know people. There's a church down the street that I want to go to, but I won't be able to until three weeks from yesterday. There's also a bar with open mic nights every Thursday and Sunday. I hear the patrons are pretty eclectic, which is just the way I like them. I miss Fiddler's. I need a new weekly home.

Reminder

2009-07-10T03:32:00.002-04:00

It was said, 'We went in search of America, and we found God instead.'

and
'I feel like after years of learning about what God is like, I'm finally learning who He is. And the biggest thing I'm learning is that He will always provide recklessly.'

And now, here I am worrying to death about rent and car repair and finding a job?
I'm almost ashamed of myself.

La Vie Boheme

2009-07-08T22:26:00.002-04:00

Yesterday, I woke up at ten and got dressed. I went into the living room, surprised to find Kriss awake on the couch. We talked for a bit about my nervousness and how I should be fine. I sighed and steeled my resolve, grabbing my guitar and walking out the door. I grabbed a day pass and hop on the L train downtown.

I get off and find a plaza outside of a mall. I look around nervously. I see people in conversations, on their cell phones, etc, and I don't want to be intrusive. I set up in corner of the plaza that borders the sidewalk and open up my case. Nervously, I start playing Purple Rain. I haven't experienced anything quite as uncomfortable as I did at that moment. A guy gave me a flier about unemployment. A woman looked at me awkwardly and gave me a quarter. After two more songs, I packed up and left.

I walk up and down Michigan Ave looking for a place to play. I probably wasted a hundred opportunities for my fear of the awkwardness of opening up a guitar case and playing in the middle of a pedestrian crowd. After walking around for an hour or so, I get back on the Subway, even more intimidated. I get off at State and Lake and go to a bench. I open my case and strum the first few chords of Fake Plastic Trees. There are two people on the bench next to me. A few people's eyes glance to me, but quickly look away. Two bars in, the lyrics come in. Inside, I swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

I'm not sure how to describe what happened, but as I started singing at full volume, it all changed. No longer did I feel like some intruding nuisance. I became some sort of traveling poet--a true troubadour. When the train came in, a man crossed the station and dropped in a dollar and a pamphlet with the address to his church. The next crowd that came in dropped in a few more dollars, then another crowd and a few more, then I was asked to leave.

And that became my day--playing in a subway, getting some tips, and being asked to leave, getting back on the subway and going to another station and repeating the process. And it's so punk rock. And I love it.

Goodbye, Yellow Brick Road

2009-07-06T21:55:00.003-04:00

I am now a Chicago resident. That doesn't mean I have a Chicago drivers license or that I can vote, but I do have a Chicago apartment. The next few days, I'm going to be busking in Subways and parks and such to get a feel for it and see if I can make a living off of it.

I'm going to miss my girlfriend, but it's not that hard to visit. I visited her at work before I left town.

I have a bit of unpacking to do still. But I don't mind it.

I love my life.

Bucket List

2009-07-05T04:10:00.001-04:00

See Bob Dylan live: check.

Oops.

2009-06-26T22:35:00.000-04:00

So, I meant to update about my trip at some point in the last week. I guess I've been too busy reading One Hundred Years of Solitude and having life happen.

Long story short, I'm moving to Chicago next Monday, instead of early August like I was expecting.
I'm alright with it now.

Well

2009-06-16T14:45:00.001-04:00

I'm back.

The Great American Adventure! Pt. 4

2009-06-14T12:47:00.003-04:00

Keeping in mind how many things have gone wrong, it's astonishing to think that we've made it everywhere we have.

Today we're in Nashville. We're heading back to Port Huron tomorrow. We might be staying at Michelle's tonight. I miss that girl so much.

So many stories. So many lessons learned.
The biggest being this:
God is recklessly faithful.

The Great American Adventure! Pt. 3

2009-06-09T02:53:00.000-04:00

Things done today.

Buy a sweet van: check.
Get to Wichita: check.
Karaoke it up: super check.

God is so good.

The Great American Adventure! Pt. 2

2009-06-08T11:45:00.002-04:00

Last evening, we stopped in Concordia, MO to get a pizza and steal some wireless internet from a Day's Inn. As we left the hotel, we hit a very strange intersection which caused us to bottom out.

Ten minutes later on the highway, Brenden said, 'I think something is wrong with your van.' I said, 'something like what?' 'I'm pressing the gas, but it's not accelerating,' and so he pulled over. He tried to start the car again, but to no avail. It didn't turn.

A police officer pulled up behind us and called a tow truck. When the tow truck driver arrived, he went to hook it up to the chain. He said, 'that's not good,' and showed me his finger. 'That's motor oil. Your engine is dead.' He proceeded to tell us that he would take it to his dealership and they would look at it first thing in the morning, but the news would be bad. He then took us back to the Days Inn whose internet we had stolen and whose bathrooms we had used, where we checked into a room and weighed our options--try to repair the van (a costly endeavor) or admit its loss and search for another vehicle.

This morning, we woke early and called the dealership, who immediately informed us that we needed a new engine, which would cost two grand. I stammered and told him I would call him back.

I called Chet, who also stammered at the thought of two grand, and told me to look around for other options. With that, I went to Craigslist, where I found a conversion van nearby for a low price. However, all we had was $800, and that was a little less than their asking price. Not to be discouraged, I called them and explained our plight and made our offer. Not only did they accept, but they offered to drive it to our hotel, and said that it would definitely make the trip.

And so, here we are in our hotel, waiting for them to arrive so we can test drive and see if the Lord really has sent them. I certainly hope so.

The Great American Adventure! Pt. 1

2009-06-05T16:16:00.003-04:00

Tomorrow, I wake up early to traverse to Port Huron, MI to attend the tail end of dear Matthew's graduation open house. Then, Brenden, Chelsea, and I leave on the roadtrip of doom--as far west as we can get and back in ten days. Stoked.

I may blog from the road. I may not. We'll see.

2009-06-04T02:45:00.001-04:00

My life is so incredibly blessed.

Sands through the hourglass

2009-05-28T02:42:00.002-04:00

I have an absolutely beautiful girlfriend who loves me. Unfortunately, I am incredibly good at disbelieving that. It's not surprising--I'm not used to reciprocated attraction and I have a hard time keeping myself from thinking that God won't take everything I want away. Because of this, Michelle has felt like a ghost or a phantom or a memory of some future event because my mind has been entirely unable to accept that this is really happening.

The past few nights, we've been trying to figure out what exactly it might be that is keeping me from accepting this. We walked down to the river and talked for a long time. We both cried. It was good.

Tonight, she was no longer a ghost. She was real to me.

I'm not expecting the problem to just go away, but it's a start. And it's a good start.

I'm thinking about changing my band name. 'Nathaniel FitzGerald vs. the Industrial Revolution' is a bit cumbersome. And I've always had a hard time saying 'FitzGerald,' believe it or not. It's just hard to say for me. I'm thinking either The Automatic Pilot or The Human Autopilot.

Desperado

2009-05-26T03:00:00.001-04:00

I'm coming to my senses.

Please, please, please be patient with me

2009-05-25T03:20:00.001-04:00

I'm sick of trying to invent reasons why this won't work.

2009-05-23T10:00:00.002-04:00

I've been living with my feet in two places lately. One foot placed in Chicago since December (and now more firmly set) was carrying most of my wait through this last semester, until everything with Michelle came around and taught me to accept life in the present moment. But now that school is over, I really don't feel like there's too much for me here--honestly (as silly as it might sound to say) just Michelle, who is really the only thing keeping me from looking too far forward.

We're going to Chicago this weekend to hang out with Kriss & Mellie (and...go to a comic book convention. My flatmate is a nerd). I think it will be good for me to see how Michelle and my life in Chicago might mix.
That, and it will just be tonsa fun, as all three of those people are, in themselves, a ton of fun.

Lord, thank you for everything that you have brought about. I'm sorry for ever doubting the goodness you had for me. I am sorry I still doubt it.

An Epic Yesterday and the Incessant Gnaw

2009-05-18T17:08:00.002-04:00

Yesterday was one of the most eventful days of my life.

I went over to the Ferrises for lunch with Michelle, her mom (her dad was called away by something), dear Megan, Michelle's brother Steve, his wife Karin (who was having contractions every thirty minutes or so), and Little Manny, the beardless toddler, who I had finally met the day before in a mostly nude state (him, not me). After lunch, Michelle, Megan, and I took Manny to the park across the street, where we swung, played imaginary basketball, hung upside down, and were disappointed by a merry go round that only went around for a spin and a half before coming to a joy crushing halt, no matter how fast it was going when it was released.

After this, we dropped Megan off at the train station and then walked along the East Race (yes, we nearly always walk along the river, but this was in a different park) and people watched as we talked about many things.

Then, we went over to the home of the Grants, where we rendezvoused with Analiese and Grants Jonathan and Tyler to go to a private property reservoir where we had a lovely bonfire accompanied by my ghetto rigged boombox. Alysha came too. We had hotdogs in white bread buns. I pretended to throw Michelle in the water, then made her give me a piggy back ride.
That girl is amazing for handling me and all my weirdness.

After the bonfire dissipated, Michelle and I, still unexhausted from our adventures, drove down the Bremen Highway and pulled into a dark field and sat on the roof of my van and watched the stars and talked of many more things. While we were on the roof, her phone rings. Lo! It is her mother, calling to tell her that Karin is in the hospital! I jumped off my car and anticipated a drive to the hospital. She said we didn't need to go, so we just continued to talk inside my car. Then, her brother Ryan called, saying that he wanted to go to the hospital to see Steve & Karin and drop them off some snacks and magazines. We went to the grocery store quickly and then to the hospital, where Karin was feelin' fine on an epidural. She was wearing an oxygen mask because the baby's heartrate, shown on a monitor next to her bed, had been low. Beneath the monitor of the baby's heartrate was a monitor showing her contractions. We watched the line as it spiked higher and higher at more frequent intervals.
'Woah! That one's all the way to 100!' Steve said.
Karin turned to the screen, 'Really? Let me see!'
Epidurals are fine things, I'm told.

After about twenty minutes, Karin said, 'I think something is dripping on my leg. I think my water just broke.' How could she tell? She couldn't feel anything from the waist down. But, we got the nurse and went back to the Ferrises' house. We sat in Michelle's room for a few hours. Ryan found a story called 'Trimazon' that he had written (and never finished) in sixth grade and read Michelle and I select portions of it. Despite not being able to feel anything, Karin must have been right about her water breaking,because at three thirty in the morning, Dad Ferris walked upstairs to announce that she had the baby. We rejoiced, and I left.

This strange unhappiness started creeping over me on Friday. At first, I thought it was because I was out of town and missed Michelle--but when I saw her the next day, it wasn't satiated. Could I be unhappy with the way things have been going? Absolutely not. I couldn't be happier. Maybe I was just getting used to the idea that pretty soon, I will be away in Chicago, and that I hadn't really thought about that. Still, that wasn't it. I was talking with Michelle about it yesterday at the East Race, throwing these ideas out. She suggested that maybe I was just getting used to the relationship. Then, I think I got it.

I feel guilty.

Two years ago, I realized that I had been harboring this feeling that no matter what I wanted, God would never let me have it by virtue of teaching me contentment or something vague like that. Right after realizing that, the earthquake of whatever it was that I felt for Chelsea came, and I thought that God was then revealing to me what I wanted. Fifteen months of pursuit later, that feeling was only reinforced. How could I believe that God wants to give me what I wanted if He just spent fifteen months keeping it from me? I couldn't. I couldn't believe that. I still have a hard time believing that.

And so here I am with THE most amazing girlfriend in the world (don't argue, you'll just embarrass yourself) thinking, 'There's absolutely no way that God could have brought this about. He doesn't give me what I want. I must have done this myself.'
Funny, considering that my most natural reaction throughout the course of letting things happen was to run away and just give up on the whole thing.

I was driving today, and I started praying. 'God, thank you for bringing this about.'
'Do you finally believe that I brought this about?'
I teared up a little bit.
'I think I'm starting to.'

I still have so far to go.

2009-05-14T02:22:00.002-04:00

"God, You are so good to me. I don't even understand it."
"What did you expect? I love you."
"(breathe.) Say that again."
"I love you."

"I think I believe that now."

Waiting to Wake Up, pt. II

2009-05-13T18:43:00.002-04:00

There's this feeling in the darkest part of me that I'm doing something terribly outside of God's plan. And that feeling comes out of the feeling I've been coming out of the past couple years that God will never let me have what I want, and I've been very pleased with the way things are going lately--so pleased that the nagging part of me that still doubts the goodness of God tells me, 'there's no way in Hell you're doing the right thing. He would never allow this.'

I love knowing that that voice is wrong.

After being hung up on someone for over a year with absolutely no reciprocation of feeling, I can't tell you how strange it is to be met with returned affection. Or how strange it was initially to realize that I was free from feelings, and free from them coming back. Funny, over spring break, I told myself that I probably shouldn't pursue a dating relationship anytime soon, because I wasn't sure that I could stay committed if Hung-Up girl suddenly realized that she had feelings for me after all. And so, I drifted with several half-crushes and attractions, trying to learn how to not hate myself while wallowing in a sort of passive cowardice.

Then, something strange happened.

I was in the art building with Sonia helping her move her submissions for the art show onto the table. Inside of the art building was my friend Michelle, who I had a huge crush on freshman year and now was glad to have caught up with thanks to our senior experience class. I talked to her for a few minutes, and then had a startling thought.
'I wouldn't mind dating Michelle. At all.'
Then a chill ran down my spine, because I knew that meant I had to tell her, and that terrified me.

I can't tell you how easy it would have been to have ignored that and kept living the same way I was. But I resolved to tell her. And she shook my hand, then told me that she liked me too. But, we both didn't want to rush into anything, so we agreed to just let things happen and see where they go.

The past couple weeks have surprised me in finding out where exactly things have gone. Turns out that not even the complex I've developed of refusing to accept that someone I'm attracted to could return my feelings could stop me from realizing that this feeling is very mutual. But, as I told her before, I didn't want to make a decision based on feelings alone (if I did that, I would have made up my mind a long time ago). So the past few nights, we've been talking about ways that the other has affected us (such as the numerous lessons of grace and compassion) and non-emotional aspects of our friendship (such as the way she gives me permission to be all of myself, flaws and all), and we decided that we were going to make this official and call ourselves a couple.

But, a few things were stopping us. I wanted to ask her parents first, and she wasn't sure that she was ready. Obviously, I wasn't going to go into a relationship as the only one ready for it, so we decided to wait until she felt ready.

Her feeling ready ended up being Sunday night. But, I still hadn't talked to her parents. So last night at nine thirty, I drove to her house (sans Michelle) and was greeted by her parents in the family room. "What was it you wanted to talk to us about, Nat?" her dad asked.
"Well, I have a story. Do you want the long version or the short version?"
"Short version. We're old and we're about to go to bed here pretty soon."

So I explained quickly that Michelle and I had been seeing where things go, and they knew where that has been, and asked if they would be okay with that.

"Well," her dad said, "Michelle's a smart kid, and I trust her, and I trust the decisions she makes" (he must have said this about five times) "and I trust you with her, so yeah."
"You have our blessing," her mom said, smiling.

We talked for a while--they asked what I majored in and where I was going in life. For whatever reason, my moving to Chicago always comes up, but I always remind those that ask that Chicago is not far. At some point, her mom looked at me with a puzzled look on her face and said, "I thought you were two were already dating." I laughed.

Michelle and I went to the diner, and then to the park afterward and just sat in my car talking and listening to music. And every once in a while, this whirlwind will rush through me
'This is really happening'

And I can hardly believe it.

This is really happening.

Waiting to Wake Up

2009-05-11T11:24:00.001-04:00

I can hardly believe my life these days. Everything is coming together in such incredible ways that make me suddenly stop in the middle of the street or in conversation and say, 'this is really happening' because I need to remind myself that I'm not hallucinating.

Saturday morning, I took a train out to Chicago with two grand in cash and met up with Kriss & Mellie (roommates extraordinaire). We took a bus out to Ukrainian Village to sign the lease and give the security deposit (the two grand in cash). Our landlords are a middle-aged Ukrainian couple who are incredibly friendly and incredibly laid back with thick, thick, thick accents. Olga (the wife) had given the key to the handyman to show it to some potential clients in case we didn't sign the lease, and the tenants were both out of the state, so we had to wait until eight o' clock.

So, we walked out of Ukrainian village until we got to Wicker Park. We went to a vegan burger joint, a pastry shop called Sweetcakes, a couple awesome record stores, Ragstock (a sweet thrift store that also sells new clothes), a three level bookstore named Myopics that has a claustrophobic maze for a fiction section, and a bunch of comic shops to indulge Kriss.
Around seven o' clock, we started walking toward the apartment. Kriss checked his clock to time the walk. After a short time, Kriss said, 'see that street up there?' referring to the street a block away. 'That's our street. It's been nine minutes.'

So, with a lot of time to spare, we stopped at Walgreens for snacks and then went looking for the grocery store. Kriss asked a girl in a nail salon by the Walgreens (which is across North Ave from our apartment) and she told him it was four blocks up the street. Passing Three Stooges' Meats and Fruits and Habibi's Fast Food and Grocery (they sell falafel. Two blocks from our apartment. Sweet.) we see the grocery store--an obnoxiously yellow building with red and green stripes running along the top. Kriss decried it as tacky. We walked in, seeing some of the signs advertising deals ("Well, that's a pretty good deal," Kriss said skeptically). Kriss led the expidition and we followed him to the far wall, where twenty pound bags of rice were being sold for $14.50. Kriss swore. We walked into the next aisle and were met with more outrageously low prices. And the next aisle. And the next. And then we walked into the dry bean aisle. I have never heard swear so much out of joy in my life. Kriss is content.

(I forgot to mention. Next to the Walgreens across from our apartment is a utility box where someone had graffitied the name 'Nat')

Five till eight, we walked back to the apartment and showed up right as the handyman got there. He let us into the apartment.
It's a sweet apartment. Incredibly so. I love it. Three bedrooms, one of which will be turned into a music room. There's laundry just outside our kitchen. There's a sweet little tile storage room that I will use as a chillout spot. The living room is about twice the size of my living room at Logan Village.
I love it. It's a good thing we already signed the lease, because if I needed to put on my poker face for a landlord, I would have failed.

Wednesday, Kriss called me to tell me that the place we were looking at wanted six months of rent up front, so we didn't know what we were going to do about it or where else we might move to. He mentioned a duplex with three vegan girls, which I was a little iffy on. He sighed, exasperated saying that he was doing everything he could, but he didn't know what other options we had. I told him not to worry, because there was a place out there. "God has had His hand in this from the very beginning. He's not going to lead us this far and then NOT have the perfect place for us."
"Do you really think God is in this?"
"Absolutely. The way things just fell together, there's no way He isn't."
"Wow. That's comforting. I don't know, I'm still worried."
"Don't be. There's a place."

I got to tell Kriss that I told him so several times.

Welcome to Wicker Park, baby.

GAH

2009-05-10T22:59:00.001-04:00

LIFE IS SO GOOD RIGHT NOW.

Oh, Goodness

2009-05-08T12:21:00.000-04:00

That was a close call.

A Drive Home For Which No Soundtrack is Suitable but Sigur Ros

2009-05-05T03:02:00.001-04:00

I pulled away simply repeating to myself, 'oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.'

The End and the Beginning

2009-05-01T14:17:00.004-04:00

It's so strange to think that I'm done at Bethel and on to be 'an adult,' so most of the times, I avoid it.

In a lot of ways, this final year was the best and worst year I've ever had. It saw me at my brightest and darkest. But it's bar none the best, because this was the year I finally put together that how naturally music came to me might just mean that I'm supposed to actually do something with it, and so I am. It's also the year where I learned what Grace is, and how to accept myself, and when I started to figure out who I am.

I also started understanding what true happiness is, and learned how to be wise in that.
Or at least, I'm learning.
With help.
(means you.)

Um.

2009-04-30T11:20:00.002-04:00

Tonight? Really?

I'm not so sure if I'm ready for what I agreed to.
But, why not.

2009-04-29T13:36:00.002-04:00

My job with maintenance didn't work out. So now i either have to find another job in the area or move to chicago in june.
Dang it.

It is Finished

2009-04-27T13:08:00.003-04:00

The buck is passed. Tossed, even.

I can sleep now. After being awake for twenty seven hours.

I've noticed that a lot of times, the more I have to say, the less I write in here.

I've also noticed that I have eleven followers. That number keeps getting bigger, and it surprises me. I don't know three of them. I've talked to two of them, though.

You know who you are.
How you find me.
Stalka.

Seriously.
It's time for bed.

Barefoot and Pregnant* in the Kitchen

2009-04-26T21:28:00.002-04:00

It is now nine thirty in the evening on Sunday April twenty-sixth, in the year of our Lord 2009. Tomorrow, Monday April twenty-seventh, at twelve o'clock in the afternoon, everything** is due so I can graduate. I'm really not too worried about graduating. Cs get degrees, I'm told.

No matter. I am bunkered down in my kitchen armed with a twelve pack of Ramen noodles and a four pack of Rockstar energy drink (bigger, faster stronger, apparently). It is my intention to stay up all night and write these fiends. Then, I will, on no sleep, take my Apologetics final. And then, I will sleep for weeks.

Thank God.

*emotionally pregnant.
**four large papers, one small paper, one outline

(no title, just the quiet)

2009-04-24T06:46:00.000-04:00

Even though I rarely ever get to enjoy it, the sunrise will always, always, always beat the sunset for me.

Queen, feat. David Bowie

2009-04-23T15:48:00.002-04:00

The end of my college career will be upon me in four days. With it, it brings four papers, one final, and one outline. I wanted to get all of these things done by tomorrow night, but I'm not sure how reasonable that is. The real issue is wanting to go to the Rescue in Chicago on Saturday, but I wasn't sure how long I would be there, and I wanted to go without needing to worry about lingering school work. Now, I'm second guessing going at all. I just really need to graduate. But, as the saying goes, "C'est la vie, Cs get degrees." By that standard, the only one I'm worried about is Apologetics. I have no idea what my final paper is going to look like yet.

I am just holding on to the thought of next week, when I will be free of school forever (unless I decide later in life to go to grad school, which is not really a thought right now). Next week will be filled with adventures and hanging out and trying to fit in those last moments with people that I wish I had more time with (three specifics: Matt Metzger, Anthony Parrott, Amy Malmkar).

I hate all-nighters, but I'll probably pull one tonight.
I still have most of this bag of coffee, after all...

2009-04-20T01:09:00.002-04:00

I don't hate myself anymore. And I mean that.

Hush

2009-04-15T20:15:00.002-04:00

I am so glad to be alive these days, and to be where I am in life. It's not that things are perfect--life is very stressful, actually. But God is good, and I'm learning to see the subtleties He works in, to hear the whispers in life that I'd previously let go unnoticed.

I've never been one for subtlety. I never payed too much attention to detail. I always just looked at the big picture, not paying attention to what was going on right before me. And I'm realizing now what I was missing out on. I'm learning that not everything has to be loud or huge or specific. Subtlety works just fine too.

A Great Good Friday

2009-04-11T10:55:00.002-04:00

Last night was a very enjoyable night. Dear Xackary threw a party/basement show at which everyone was told to dress like the pictures Dear J. Grant had posted on Facebook of shamans and sheiks and children in tuxedos and gypsies and Devendra Banhart. I wore a giant headdress. Kath Forrester and Lyndsey were gypsies. J. Grant was a sort of shaman? Analiese was an awkward nymph. Ferris looked like a 1980s flapper. I wore a giant headdress that made it difficult to put on my harmonica harness. Xack's friend Owen Nicolas (who I guess is really named Tyler?) played last. His girlfriend played this awesome old keyboard and the glockenspiel and sometimes sang along while he played the acoustic guitar and sang while stomping on a tambourine, all without microphones. It was super enjoyable. He sounded like the lead singer of Okkervill River playing vaguely punk inspired folk songs.

After the party dissipated, most of us went to Steak n Shake where we were greeted by no shortage of great reactions. But what do you expect when you walk in wearing this?

Homework is coming along about as I expected, which is not nearly as well as I'd hoped. There are still two days.

I've been the only person in my house the past three days. And it's been a lot better than I was expecting. I usually hate being by myself because 1) I don't like who I am when no one's watching and 2) when I'm by myself I have to face how much I don't like myself. But both of those issues are significantly lifting. I've actually kind of liked being by myself this weekend. I'm supposed to go to my parents' house tonight, but I'm second guessing that, honestly. I like staying here just fine. I get to listen to my records loudly and paint into all hours of the night.

I'm realizing that a lot of my insecurities don't have any basis to them but are merely a product of unfortunate experiences and my own tendency to overthink everything. But that doesn't mean they have any less of an effect on me. Yet.

2009-04-08T17:24:00.002-04:00

Easter break came an hour and a half early today. I skipped Biblical Theology.

I have so much due in that class, I can hardly stand thinking about it. The next few days, I HAVE to get caught up. I can't be as far behind on assignments as I am right now. Not in two weeks, anyway.

My friend Ben took his life yesterday. I didn't know him too well--just well enough to be really weirded out. When I first went into the dining commons by myself and knew no one, I sat with him. Then he was in my zoology class, and on the way back from the Shedd, we played this name where you list band names, but each band name has to start with the last letter of the previous band name. We started on Lake Shore Drive and finally finished when we got off of the toll road two hours later. The other three people in the car got out and the two of us went back and forth on our own for at least half an hour before I made up a band name that wasn't challenged.
I really wish I would have gotten to know him better.

Under Pressure/Ice, Ice Baby

2009-04-06T13:17:00.003-04:00

I long ago learned that one's capacity for joy is also their capacity for sorrow. Recently, I've learned that one's capacity for joy is also one's capacity for neurosis.

quit your worrying, boy.

Much easier said than done. And beyond my nervousness and flakiness in life in general lately, I am really feeling the pressure of the next three weeks of classes (the last three ever. As an undergrad, at least) and the biggest desire I have is to just curl up with my head between my knees and my hands on my neck to protect my vulnerable head from the falling debris that is a mountain of assignments still yet to do. I really dislike school right now, and I'm really struggling to truly see the long term benefits, even though I know that if I drop off the academic globe right now, I'll regret it for the rest of my life--or at least until I finish my degree.

I often pray for discipline, or motivation, or what have you. Deep down, I know that praying for those things is an attempt to remove as much blame from myself as possible.

A Hall of Open Doors, a Street of Green Lights

2009-04-03T13:49:00.003-04:00

Tonight, I am going to Chicago to go apartment hunting with Kriss & Mellie. I am so incredibly excited to finally get into the city and live and play my music and meet everyone. It's all I've ever wanted.

It's strange, though, the validation I've been getting for this. Every time I've played at Fiddler's Hearth lately, Al always says, 'Sounds like they like you, Nathaniel,' in this sly voice like he knows something big is going to happen. And others, two of the most talented performers in particular, just tell me how much they enjoy it. And with every voice that says that, I get this feeling that says, 'this is what you were made for.' (I have to admit, I kind of hate getting flooded with compliments like that. I want to get to know the people at Fiddler's, not just get to know how much they enjoy my music)

Last night was the missionary church banquet with the district superintendents and other pastors from the denomination. As a missionary church brat, I am incredibly jaded towards its political agendas and departure from its egalitarian, pacifist roots. Also, I've been feeling like the denomination will look at what I'll be doing in Chicago and say, 'That's not ministry. You're not going there to be a missionary. You are going there to have fun being a rock star, and we all know it.' I went to the banquet not wanting to, even though it wasn't required, because I knew it would probably do no harm. It did the opposite of harm, actually. They talked about how the denomination is restructuring to be more organic with less emphasis on church buildings and pastors and more emphasis on individuals doing ministry in their own contexts. I talked with Steve Jones, DS of the Central district about my plans, and he was completely supportive. When asked, he even said that if I felt called to ask for support from members in the denomination, I should do that.

Afterward, I drove to my parents' house feeling this strange mix of guilt and depression, and I couldn't figure out why. Then I had a thought. 'What if the reason you feel bad is because you can't handle validation, because you can't handle the idea that maybe you're right about something.'

Yeah. About that. I'm so used to just walking through whatever door I see until it shuts in my face. And I'm so used to them shutting on me that don't know what to do when the door is opened even wider and I'm ushered in.

'You're just going to have to get used to it,' the voice in my head says.
Lord, thank You.

March Twenty nine

2009-03-29T23:25:00.002-04:00

I have never been more proud of my sister Lyndsey as I was last night. She completely rocked the role of Muzzy in Thoroughly Modern Millie. To be frank, the entire cast rocked Thoroughly Modern Millie last night--but not as much as Lyndsey (in my humble opinion).

Brenden was here this weekend. I missed him dearly, and this visit was very appreciated. Sometimes when I see him after being apart for a long time, it's like I'm seeing his ghost or something. There's just something unfamiliar about him that takes about ten seconds to get used to. It's kind of like when he's gone, I forget that he's real. It's like that with other people sometimes, too--people that I love very much and miss often.

I tried my hand at painting tonight. I've painted often, but only pieces of cardboard that I then glued and stacked to make something. There was no blending involved, and the strokes of the paintbrush were nearly completely neglected. So I've decided to correct this. I painted an owl.

I am pleased with it.

I keep learning more and more and more and more about Grace. It's amazing. I don't understand it, but I love it.

Tonight,

2009-03-26T23:33:00.001-04:00

I saw what love looks like.

A large amount of news in a small amount of time.

2009-03-25T23:30:00.002-04:00

The past few days have been filled with a lot.

My emotional capacity seems like it has tripled. When I'm happy, I'm always blisteringly happy. When someone comes to me with a problem, I'm much more easily moved to tears. Just the other day in Biblical Theology, before we prayed at the beginning of class, Dr. Carpenter said, 'Let's take these requests to the Lord. And let's not forget Who it is that we're praying to.' Instantly, tears streamed down my face. Because honestly, I have been forgetting a lot who He is, and the past week or so, I've been reminded in the most peculiar, most ordinary ways.

Last year, a friend told me that she has struggled with homosexuality for most of her life. Then, a couple nights ago, she told me she was having feelings for a friend of hers, and she didn't care that it was wrong, she just wanted a relationship. I was livid, and said a lot of things that I can't believe. I have said before that with tough issues like this, it is best to err on the side of compassion. I wish I would have listened to myself, because now I know what happens when you don't. We reconciled later that night, though. But the most nerve racking part is that she plans on telling her brother tomorrow, and I'm going with for support. If I'm this nervous, I can't even imagine how she must be feeling.

I was walking across campus today, and was just overwhelmed with happiness. I just wanted to run around and sing loudly and dance and weep for joy. And the strange thing is, this superhappiness keeps showing up at the strangest times.

There might be some reasons, or life might just be going very well right now.
Probably some mixture of both.

The Emptiness

2009-03-22T21:43:00.003-04:00

There's a strange emptiness in my body every time I get away by myself lately. I'm never sure what it is. It's not exactly a discontent, and it's not exactly a longing. There's just something missing that was there before. I think that it might be that the darkness that has been occupying my life for so long is finally lifting, and this is what freedom feels like. It's not a bad emptiness--it's just strange.

There's a lot of strangeness in my life lately. And not all of it is bad. Not at all. And I'm getting used to it.

I went through some old posts a couple days ago. It was so strange to look back on the things I was thinking and feeling during the days I look back upon as the days of my goodness and strength and see how much I've grown since then--because I have grown. I have come to see God in the ordinary and plain things. I have come to find His thumbprint in my own autonomy. I have found His image in those around me, and I'm learning the grace of judging others exclusively by the best parts of them.

I also used to write much longer blogs. They're a little shorter now.

Music As A Weapon*

2009-03-20T13:22:00.003-04:00

Last night I watched a screening of the Invisible Children update. It turns out that just as the peace talks seemed to be working, Joseph Kony (leader of the Lord's Resistance Army) disappeared and attacked the Congo. I watched in pain asking God, 'How can we stop this man without using the same violence that he uses?'

Today in chapel, the speaker spoke against the apathy we have for the poor and lonely and homeless, whose number is growing every day. She challenged us to do something about it. She also quoted Mother Teresa: 'You can do no great thing. Only small things with great love.'
'What will you do?' she asked.
'What can I do about this war?' I asked.

Last night I first began to see the true value of music in activism. Not saying I'm going to write anthems or songs about the terrible things going on in Africa (every time I've tried, it's come out incredibly cheesy). But I can tell others what is going on. I can play benefit shows. I can organize shows at which the film will be screened.
And in regards to the poor and lonely and homeless...what can I do for those in prison or on the street or who have no one? I want to start going out into the streets with a guitar to sit with people and play songs for them. I want to play shows in jails. I just want to use my music to connect with them the same way I use it to connect to others.

I'm so glad I can do this.

*nothing to do with Disturbed or the music festival they host.

...Like I'm something worth holding onto

2009-03-19T14:36:00.002-04:00

I'm realizing now that two years of blindly chasing after something I could never have took a drastic toll on my confidence.

I asked for a wound to put my finger into, and all I found was my own.
It's going to take some time to heal this.

Handshakes

2009-03-18T00:34:00.001-04:00

Who reacts like that?
Honestly.
;)

Goggles to Protect My Eyes*

2009-03-16T20:14:00.003-04:00

My life has been moving pretty quickly this past week. Nothing necessarily of too much note...yet...

I just really like the way my life is going. I've hung out with my friends Megan and Michelle a lot lately, which is always nice. I've missed them a lot.

I'm closing the open stage at Fiddler's Hearth tonight, which means I play last and have an hour long set instead of fifteen minutes. This is literally the highest honor I could receive at Fiddler's Hearth.

I'm recording three albums currently. I love recording...I really do. I really don't like taking multiple takes, though. Especially when I'm already restless (as I am now).

Five weeks until graduation. Thank God.

*see the Office episode Dwight's speech for context

President's Day: A Film.

2009-03-10T22:10:00.007-04:00

It's raining. Lightning strikes to reveal the words 'Presidential Cemetery' on the arch the camera then passes through, zooming in on a headstone labeled, 'George Washington.'

A half decomposed hand punches through the wet grass and dirt, followed by the rest of Zombie George Washington. The camera swings around to see the rest of the dead presidents also rising from their graves. Those assassinated still wear their wounds. The zombie presidents stagger out into the street towards Washington D.C.

New scene. Disney's Magic Kingdom. In a large room with cameras monitoring the park's activities, a red telephone rings and is answered by a man in a suit. 'Hello?' he says. The voice on the other line says something that disturbs him. 'Yes, I understand. Right away.' He hangs up the phone.
'Who was that, sir?'
'That was the Pentagon. We have a situation.'
All eyes fasten on him.
'Activate the Hall of Presidents.'

Out of a level area on the floor, a pillar rises about five feet. At chest level is a small glass door with a red button. It is pressed.

Camera on the Hall of Presidents. The animitronic presidents stare blankly in the dark. Suddenly, Robot Washington comes to life. One eye glows red. His right hand is retracted into his arm and is replaced by a laser cannon. Robot Lincoln's left hand retracts and is replaced by a beam sword. Robot Teddy Roosevelt spouts flames out of his mouth. All the robot presidents activate similarly and their shoes turn into rocket shoes, blasting them off towards the nation's capital.

From inside the monitor station, someone asks the man in the suit, 'Sir, do you think it will work?'
'It's our only hope.'

(CUE ZOMBIE PRESIDENTS VS. ROBOT PRESIDENTS FOR THE SWEETEST MOVIE/GRAPHIC NOVEL/TELEVISION SERIES EVER. Also, Dick Cheney is a Cyborg)

Spring Broke

2009-03-08T18:22:00.003-04:00

This was a big break, my first taste of touring...and I like it.

I'm recording again...three albums at a time, and one three song EP. I hope to have them done around the time I move to Chicago, but we all know ow good I am with deadlines...

This week, I learned:
I sometimes crap out on God stuff when I'm on break. I read my Bible maybe twice over break (as opposed to the two times a day I try to fit in usually)
If someone yells at me, no matter how upset they are, I will raise my voice back, and I hate it.
Ryan, Ruth, Rebecca, and Rachel at Moody (kind of) are four of the most spontaneous and awesome people you'll ever meet.
My parents' puppy Jethro (Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs FitzGerald) is awesome, and I love him.
When I'm upset with myself, I eat a lot.
Chelsea Henion is a great friend.
I missed Brenden Bell a lot.
I miss Hannahbeth always.
I really like Okkervil River.
The Griffon in South Bend is an incredible book shop.
Sin City is a great movie. It has awakened my love for the noir genre.
If I want to see a movie on opening night and can't find anyone to go with, if I'm in town, I can just go to Movies 14, because everyone I'd go to see the movie with would be there anyway.
The trumpet makes a little bit of sense to me. A little bit.
I just want to graduate and be done with school. I guess the only way to do that is to work hard. But I don't really want to work hard. Meh.

I just want to be done.
I want to be done.
I want to be done.

Please, please, please

2009-03-05T02:21:00.000-05:00

Find me out.