April 29, 2006 | Filed under: Because They Pay Me, Boys Are Dumb, DC! DC! DC!, People I Like Even More Than My Job, The Fam

I don’t know whose, plan, because it’s sure not mine!

I’m in South Bend/Chicago this weekend, and then it’s off to DC on Monday for the week. Just about every detail of these trips has changed, other than that Caron and John are, in fact, getting married in a few hours.

[Hi, DC people! Let's pretend that I have my shit together and I totally sent you an e-vite for happy hour like two weeks ago, ok? So...it'll be Thursday. Um, somewhere. Around happy hour time. Hope you can make it!]

A voice mail message I left for Steve earlier this week, regarding our Sunday afternoon/evening plans sounded like this:

Hi, it’s me. Just calling to remind you I’ll be in town this weekend. Still don’t know what our Sunday afternoon looks like, and Traveling Companion isn’t sure he can make it, so maybe I’ll be free for the afternoon and maybe it’ll just be dinner. So, basically, I have no information for you. Don’t call me back because I won’t be able to deal with this until Friday. I’ll call you from the airport or something.

At the airport yesterday morning, I changed my flight from Chicago to DC, my flight from DC back to Sacramento, and attempted to cancel my flight from Chicago to Sacramento, but the nice woman from Northwest Airlines told me they couldn’t leave it open as a one-way trip, so unless I was canceling the entire trip (no! please no! I’m sitting at the gate waiting for my plane to Chicago!) I’d need to call back after I got to Chicago.

When I got to Minneapolis, (my layover on the way to Chicago) Traveling Companion officially bailed on the trip. Bah. Oh well, not having to entertain someone for the weekend leaves more time for my two favorite pastimes — working and working out, both of which I’ll be able to do at the hotel.

Since there was no longer a need to coordinate schedules, I set off to get on an earlier flight into Chicago. Success! I love the people at Northwest — I believe that’s the first time standby has ever worked out for me. (Oddly enough, I think I read that they were rated one of the worst airlines to fly, but I’ve had relatively few problems with them.) I got to Chicago and had to change my rental car reservation to accommodate all those other schedule changes, but at last I was on my way to South Bend.

Even my body is messing with my plans. Headed to Chicago, I fell asleep while the plane was still sitting at the gate, as usual, but woke up for no apparent reason, before the flight attendant even told us we could use our portable electronic devices. I believe my body was trying to tell me something. Namely, “Woman, you have already slept for three hours today! Don’t you realize you’ve filled your sleeping quota? How can you expect me to sleep more?!?!?!”

Steve and I caught up with each other to pin down those elusive Sunday plans. He’s now booked for the afternoon, as am I.* But the requisite dinner-paid-for-by-your-big-sister-when-she’s-in-town is on.

*In Minneapolis I discovered I’d won a deadline of Tuesday (preferably morning) for a work project that just hasn’t gotten the attention it needs from me. Given that I’m spending most of Monday on a plane and in meetings, this attention-getting will have to occur Sunday.

[To the work people who know about this blog and read it, Hi! Yes, I’ve worked for an entire week straight, barely stopping to sleep, and yes, it’s my weekend away, and yet -- look at that -- I’m still working! Anyone want to trade jobs??? Too bad my bosses don’t know about this blog. I think they’re catching on to the all-work-all-the-time nature of my life, though.]

I hear there’s some college or something in South Bend…maybe I’ll go crash the library there to get my work done.

But for now, I’m off to a wedding. Caron and John have been together for almost five years, and will now commit to seventy-five more. At least some things stay the same.

April 27, 2006 | Filed under: Uncategorized

Three — as in, the number of hours I slept last night. The forecast for the rest of the week: more of the same.

I will not freak out. I will not freak out. I will not freak out.

Sixteen Bajillion — the number of tasks I have left to accomplish before leaving on two back-to-back trips that have me away from here for ten days straight.

I will not freak out. I will not freak out. I will not freak out.

F — I trust you can figure out what that one’s for.

I will not freak out. I will not freak out. I will not freak out.

Zero — the number of brain cells functioning today, as evidenced by the following anecdotes.

Leaving my office for a meeting, I grabbed a bottle of water and temporarily set it on my desk. I left the office, got to the building’s front door and realized I’d forgotten my badge. Returned to desk for badge; departed again. Halfway across the parking lot I realized I didn’t have my water, despite having had two opportunities to grab it. Oh well, I’m not going back a second time. I got to the driveway and realized that all of the materials I’d read in preparation for this meeting were not, in fact, in the file folder in my bag, but instead were sitting on my dining room table. Great. Is there anything else I am missing??? Oh yes, how about A PEN. Hello? You’re going to a meeting and you don’t even take a pen? I managed to find one hiding at the bottom of my bag, but that was sheer dumb luck.

I’m happy to report that the meeting itself went far better than the five minutes immediately preceding it, but it did not inspire much confidence for the rest of my day.

I will not freak out. I will not freak out. I will not freak out.

Sadly, I was right. Even better was this afternoon when I ran an errand downtown. I pulled into a parking spot and took note of the fact that there was a parking meter there that I needed to feed. Errand over, I returned to the car and spotted something on my windshield. A ticket? The hell, people, this is a totally legal spot! And I certainly haven’t exceeded the one hour time limit!

I swear, I was not trying to cheat the City of Sacramento out of its 50¢ — I forgot to put a couple of quarters in the meter. The parking meter that I noticed as I parked the car. With the quarters I keep stashed in the glove compartment for this very purpose. Forgot. In the twenty seconds it took me to roll up the windows and grab the items I needed to copy. Yeah.

I will not freak out. I will not freak out. I will not freak out.

April 25, 2006 | Filed under: Uncategorized

I will not freak out. I will not freak out. I will not freak out.

I’d love to tell you all about it, but that would be breaking the cardinal rule of blogging: Thou Shalt Not Discuss Work on Thy Blog.

I will not freak out. I will not freak out. I will not freak out.

I had two rather entertaining experiences in one 24-hour period. (Ok, maybe not so entertaining, as my judgment is severely impaired due to extreme sleep deprivation, but two work-related experiences that I can safely share with the Internet.)

First, apropos of nothing, I said to my colleague, “I quit.” The look of sheer terror that crossed his face…priceless. I meant something like “I want to quit this project, I want to quit thinking about it, I want to quit worrying about it, I want to quit spending time and energy on it” and he thought I meant “I’m leaving this job, effective today,” which would certainly be cause for panic. While I hadn’t really considered that second option, I think I could be easily persuaded.

I will not freak out. I will not freak out. I will not freak out.

Also, I had someone say to me, “I really admire your work ethic, but don’t you think life would be better if you lightened up a little?”

Number one, if I had a dollar for every time someone suggested I lighten up, I’d never need to work again. Two, I’ve been hearing that my whole life and I will lighten up when I am GOOD AND READY, THANK YOU VERY MUCH, SO YOU CAN JUST SHOVE OFF. Ahem.

I will not freak out. I will not freak out. I will not freak out.

April 20, 2006 | Filed under: The Fam

Today is my parents’ 32nd wedding anniversary. THIRTY-TWO YEARS.

They got married in a lovely little hippie wedding* held on a Friday night, with one attendant each, and a short invite list. (Well, as short as an invite list can be when you have eight or nine siblings.) The reception was held at a friend’s house and catered by various friends with foodstuffs purchased from the grocery store, beer in cans and a punchbowl that contained more than Hawaiian Punch, as a six-year old Uncle David discovered. In a word: Low-key.

*Not so hippie that it didn’t involve a church and a Catholic priest, though. Let’s not get carried away.

As a child I was convinced my wedding would be The Party of the Century. You know, because that’s what weddings are about, really. I may have picked out some poofy dresses from the J.C. Penney catalog for all eight of my bridesmaids. And the matching parasols. (Don’t blame me! It’s not my fault that 80’s fashion was so hideous!!!!) I’m pretty sure my anticipated reception featured an ice sculpture or a champagne fountain or some other expensive display of non-functional excess. My parents’ wedding, it was not.

Now guess what my plans look like?

(And by “plans” I mean, “random musings in my head when I’m at someone else’s wedding or hearing about the planning process.” Not “I have everything charted out right here in this expandable file folder, just look for the tabs that say ‘dress,’ ‘invite list,’ ‘dinner menu,’ etc.” But if it would help, I’d be happy to put something together for you, you know, just in case.)

Thirty-two years? I don’t think I could do it, I said to a friend.

How long do you think you’d last?

You’re assuming it’s a non-zero number??? Ha!

April 17, 2006 | Filed under: The Fam

It’s days like today that I wish we could just schedule a family conference call.

I called Mom and Dad; didn’t reach them. I called Liz; voice mail. Steve called Liz; voice mail. Steve called me and actually got through. While on the phone, Liz returned his call. Liz and I talked later. Mom and Dad called half an hour after that, with news from the extended family. Liz had talked to them briefly yesterday, so I skipped most of what we talked about and gave them The Steve Update, since he was going to be at rehearsal the rest of the night. I was going to actually talk about me (something I never do) but then my cell phone exploded. Ok, not really, but the thing got quite a workout today. I should give it a day off.

Easter, like Christmas, comes with its own traditions. Namely, we go to Sandy & Dave’s for Easter brunch. Growing up, all those references to an Easter ham were lost on us kids. Who are those crazy people that only eat ham for Easter? And get together in the evening??? I mean, sure we have ham…along with bacon and sausage and it all goes right here on the plate next to the pancakes and eggs made-to-order.

[For all the years we've done Easter brunch, with plenty of fresh-squeezed orange juice, we have never once had mimosas. I would like to know who dropped that ball on that tradition. My Easter brunches will feature mimosas. Or straight champagne, if you like. Who am I to tell you how to consume your liquor?]

Our church obligations are typically fulfilled by attending Easter Vigil (also known as Longest Mass Ever, with the Possible Exception of a State Funeral) on Saturday night. Years and years of attendance mean I can tell you the creation story, as written in Genesis, from memory. “Evening came, and morning followed: the third day.” My favorite part, though, is the Litany of the Saints, which is half-sung, half-chanted and reminds me of how mass was celebrated for centuries. Only, you know, without the Latin. Each of us is mentioned in the Litany, including a line that goes, “Elizabeth and Catherine, pray for us.” My name should really be first, but they got it 95% right, so I’ll forgive them.

I went to the first service at my church this morning and it was weird. I knew it would be different, since I’m accustomed to the Easter Vigil readings and not so much with the Easter Morning readings, but weirder still was that There Was No Singing. None. A fact that Steve had an equally hard time wrapping his mind around. “No singing? But that’s what Easter mass is for! The singing!” (And maybe something about the risen Christ? But definitely singing.) This conversation took place on his way home from mass.

Me: You went to mass today?
Steve: Yeah, well, it’s Easter.
Me: I know, but…you went to mass today?
Steve: Yes, Kate. It’s the holiest day of the year, you know.
Me: I know, but since when do you go to mass? Or are you just doing your part to be the best darn mediocre Catholic out there?*
Steve: Something like that. You can’t really be a Christmas-and-Easter Catholic if you skip Easter. That’s like, half the days.

*The back story: As Steve was preparing for confirmation, with me as his sponsor, we discussed the role the Church would play in his adult life. He admitted that maybe he didn’t agree with all of the Church’s teachings and wouldn’t be going to mass every week, but asserted that he’d be “the best darn mediocre Catholic out there.” Which is more than can be said for a lot of people the Church has confirmed. Or that we’re related to.

But even more important than “Did you attend church?” is this question: Did you do brunch today? Because it’s not Easter without brunch.

Me: Eh, I wasn’t going to, but then it felt weird when I got home from church and there was no brunch. So I made a coffee cake.

Liz: No. Well, yes, I guess. We do breakfast a lot on the weekends, and today was one of those days. So, I guess we had Easter brunch, but The Boy’s family stuff was yesterday.

Steve: Yup. I bought the ham yesterday, and have hash browns. I’m stopping at the store now for eggs, milk and cinnamon rolls.

Mom & Dad: Of course! We were busy eating pancakes when you called earlier. Sorry about that.

And what about you? Did you have Easter brunch?