Everything

It's funny that not so long ago I was sitting here wondering what I could come up with to say on the blog. The past few weeks have been a little hectic and any chance to update you, dear reader, was erased, so now it seems to me that there's a lot to cover. I may start saying it and find that it's not that much, but at the outset I'd say this is going to be an exercise in cramming a whole bunch of stuff into one post, so grab a snack or use the bathroom if you need to.

My useless polls appear to have stopped working, but when last I checked my mother's wedding was the leader for what topic was most deserving of my attention, so we'll start there.

By the way, Michelle and I have been talking about commas lately. Normally I would have put one after the word 'checked' in the previous paragraph, but she says no. I'm just trying out the less-is-more comma philosophy for a while.

Back in August, Michelle and I dashed up to Vancouver for two days, just long enough to celebrate my mom's joyous union to a cool guy named Don. Unfortunately I've never had the chance to get to know him very well, but I'm sure he's alright. I could say something like, she could have done better, but hey, she's my mom. Just kidding Don! You're great!

It was something of a revelation to travel without children. On the plane we were just sitting there talking to each other, not having to think about when the last time any small people had gone to the bathroom was, or when we would next have to feed small people so they wouldn't melt down on the escalator later. It felt weird. At one point Michelle said, "It's the first time we traveled without kids in five years!" I observed that five years ago we hadn't had kids yet, so we couldn't really have traveled without them. Really, this was first time ever that we were traveling without kids. You know, who existed. She wasn't buying it. It's like the commas, I guess.

So in Vancouver, with no kids to put to bed on Minnesota time, we got to enjoy the full array of pre-wedding excitement and post-wedding partying, with a little extra time for catching up with siblings, brand new siblings-in-law, and future nieces. Oh yeah, and an actual wedding.

The wedding was great. Well, it was a wedding. You've been to them. They're all a lot the same, but this was the first one where I walked the bride up the aisle, so I enjoyed it. My brother Brad, looking almost as handsome as I, was on her other arm, so it was a team effort. We contemplated a high five after passing her off, but in the end we refrained.

One of the highlights of the reception, if I may say so, was my attempt to sing. I wrote even sappier lyrics to Green Day's sappy song, "Time Of Your Life" (which is actually entitled "Good Riddance," but never mind that), and performed it with my brother Derek, who was looking even handsomer than I. Most of the weddinggoers seemed to like it, or at least not to mind it terribly.

And yes, we also got to hang out with my Dad and his adorable daughter, my sister Brianna and her new hubby Caleb, my brother Derek and his new ambition to be a helicopter pilot, and my brother Brad and sister-in-law Stacy and their new fetus. So many cool people in Vancouver...really, it would be fun to live there...

The last story I have to tell about Vancouver is about driving back across the border to catch our Seattle flight home. First, the set-up. In May, when we went avec kids to Brianna & Caleb's wedding (why is it cool to say without in French but not with?), we got stuck at the border for two hours and missed our flight. Having that happen again would have been much less terrible since we didn't have the kids with us this time (should be a comma after 'terrible'), but we were instructed by everyone and their brother (except those whose brother was me) to go eight blocks north of the street which crosses the border and take a right, drive down to 0 Avenue (there really is a 0 Avenue), hang another right, and drive back to the border crossing where you'll just take a left and cut in front of most of the line. Someone will have to let you in, and even if you wait for 20 cars before they do, you'll have saved an hour or more if the line is long.

Well, sure enough, the line was long again. We had left ourselves plenty of time, but after much soul-searching and reliving bad memories, we took the shortcut. And this, I need to write about.

You see, I'm just not that guy. For one thing, I'm patient. I can wait in a line for two hours and it really won't bother me. For another thing, I don't suffer from the delusion that I'm more important than all those people I cut in front of, or that they just weren't in as much of a hurry as me. I have my faults (comma) but one thing I take a certain amount of pride in is that I don't consider myself superior to other people. I am on equal footing with my fellow man, even when driving. I let people in when they're in a lane they shouldn't be in; I give people the benefit of the doubt; I respect people until they ask me not to, and sometimes even after that I still try.

So you can laugh, but it was hard for me to cut in line. If I lived in Vancouver I would not do that. It was only because we had a plane to catch, and even then, only because we actually did miss the plane the last time. If we had cut it close but acutally did catch the plane back in May, I don't think I would have given in to my dark side in August. But I did. So to all the people waiting in line on 176th Ave that fine morning, I offer my heartfelt apology. And now my demons are exorcised.

But I'm not done talking yet. Oh, so much more to cover. Have you noticed the two times in this post I've mentioned the abstract concept of living in Vancouver? It's been mentioned on this blog before, I'm sure. It just comes up every so often around here, and each time we talk about it Michelle and I just seem to get more determined to make it happen. So yes, we think we have just passed the tipping point. We love our jobs here in Minnesota, and Granny Kapp is fabulous, and it would be stupid to try to sell our house in this market, but any other reasons for sticking around have been fading away lately.

So we're doing it. This week we cleaned like mad people (specifically, like obsessive-compulsive and possibly agoraphobic mad people) and got a realtor, which is pronounced with two syllables, I might add for no reason other than out of a sense of charitable public service. Our house is for sale. Again.

The plan, subject to change though it might be, is to be here until next spring or summer. If we get lucky and the house sells sooner rather than later, we will just count our blessings and find somewhere to rent month to month. The plan also involves looking for new jobs, getting three Canadian passports and one permanent residency, and, apparently, jettisoning hundreds of dollars worth of our extra stuff on craigslist. Seriously, Michelle has already gotten rid of videos, CDs, a crib, a dehumidifier and a stool, and there's at least half a dozen other items posted for sale already. Usually you do this part shortly before packing up to move, but really I think it's Michelle's favorite part and she's just thankful for an excuse to get rid of stuff. If she could get rid of stuff full time for a living, she would do it. Getting rid of stuff is a hobby of hers. She could list it in her interests on Facebook, if Facebook was one of her interests, which it isn't.

There may have been more I was going to write about, but I think that covers most of it. And Michelle just got home from teaching. Oh yes, Michelle is teaching again. It's September. We're all back on our normal schedule. That's something. Maybe not that interesting, but it's something. And now you know.

So what's been up with you?