Princess Ada

My silly little kitten has taken to only drinking water out of a running faucet.
I come home from work, I start dinner, and before I can wash my hands she's elbowed me out of the way to steal a drink of water. This is not just lick, mind you. This can be up to a 5 or 10 minute affair of her drinking like she's been walking through a desert for days. I know I'm a horrible parent, but how can I stop her from drinking when she's obviously so parched!

I Bleed Green

This Thanksgiving we sat around the dinner table with Grandma and somehow wandered to a discussion of our heritage. It's a well known fact in our family that there's a tiny bit of Jewish blood roaming through our veins. It's also a well known fact that Grandma kept that part of our bloodline a secret for quite some time. Even now, she mentions it in a hush and we hide our muffled laughter. So, as it turns out, I am 1/32 Jewish. That's completely fine by me, but I don't feel Jewish. No. Actually, if anything, I feel Irish, though I may not be much more than 1/32 of that either. Growing up in Grandpa's house, to be Irish and Catholic were all you ever wanted to be. Grandpa had the classic twinkle in his eye and the poetic tongue of an Irishman. And of course his favorite football team could be no other than the Fighting Irish of Notre Dame. Game days in Grandpa's house were greated with much celebration and several shots of whiskey.

So, when I found out that I was to be visiting South Bend for a wedding, I couldn't possibly pass up the opportunity to visit the campus of Notre Dame for myself. Sunday morning, in my hung over haze, I journeyed to the campus, parked my car, and trekked out into the soft drizzle.

In the quiet of Thanksgiving break, little could be heard under the blanket of rain but the sound of the church bells calling a few stragglers to mass. In this quiet the campus struck me as nothing short of heaven. Step onto any university campus and you'll feel it breathing. Universities are living institutions - they are constantly moving and shifting and yet growing ivy on their heavy walls. It's a perfect paradox.

I wound my way through the pathways behind the church and to the lake where the geese, ducks, and swans waded sleepily in the water. When I turned to head onward, I noticed this little grotto carved out of the hillside. I felt drawn to it, so I stepped inside this prayerful place and said a lit a candle for my grandpa. I'm not sure if I prayed to him or for him and I'm not sure that it mattered, but he was there in that place with the twinkle in his eyes - on that I am certain.

I continued on. Even in the dark gloom of the day, the campus was luminous, and it was easy to see the potential of it's glory. I decided on the way that I should at least step inside one building. Randomly, I pulled the handle of a door open and stepped inside. It looked like a medeival chamber...something out of Robin Hood. I stepped up to the directory on the wall and laughed when I realized that of all the buildings on campus I had walked directly into the engineering building. I believe in signs and that was unmistakably of the sign variety.

It was time to head back to the car. I was disappointed that I hadn't found the library, the stadium or this thing some call "Touchdown Jesus". I was exactly sure where I parked so I just headed in a direction that seemed right or close to it. When I turned a corner, there it stood, larger than life - the mural of Jesus on the wall of the library building. And behind it, well, behind it was the famed stadium. I breathed the scene in. A perfect last stop to a flawless trip. I do bleed green...even if I am 1/32 Jewish.

The Wedding

If I had to miss out on the art show this weekend, at least it was for a good cause. One of my good pals at work got married this weekend in South Bend. I don't get to see my CDS friends and their wives too often, so when we do get together, I cherish the time.

Here's a picture of the newly betrothed Athans. Mike is an engineer with me and, despite being an engineer, is one of the funniest people I know. Dry, dry, dry humor, but you never know what is going to come out of his mouth next.



Here are the Sablas. I work with Brian and I golf with Shannon. Well, I don't actually golf anymore (anyone who has ever seen me golf would say that what I do can't accurately be described as golf anyway).

Brian is one man full of stories, most of which involve frank discussions of bodily functions, usually his own. Regardless of his overshares, Brian's a hell of a guy and always goes out of his way to take care of me.








Last, but certainly not least, are the Dragons. Steve was my boss and has since moved on to be my client. I honestly don't know where my life would be without him. He means the world to me and then some. And Angie, well, Angie is killer. A gem of a person. And a heck of a dancer - she and I were unstoppable on the dance floor last night.






In summary, here are my CDS boys. I owe a certain amount of my sanity to each of them. And I love them each dearly.

As for the ceremony/reception, we had a heck of a good time. Of course, I drank entirely too much (starting out with beer and them moving on to whiskey and then to wine and then back to whisky and then ending with wine). Needless to say I woke up with one hell of headache this morning. But it was worth it. I wouldn't change a moment. Last night was perfect.

Home for the Holidays

Here's an update on my Aunt Patti:
After an apparently excruciating operation to remove the halo from her head and to fuse some of the vertebrae in her neck for permanent stability, Aunt Patti is on the mend. She is expected to return home on Wednesday - one day in advance of the start of the holidays. That's an enormous relief and a near-miracle. She's come a long way and is nearly full-functioning, slow-functioning as she may be. Her hands, however, have not yet returned. She can use her left hand to hold an eating utensil, but she can't write. Her right hand has a long way to go. The doctors are still projecting that it could take two years for her hands to return completely...if they return completely. Aunt Patti has more endurance than any person I know - I'm sure she will surpass the doctors' expectations or fears in no time flat. At this point, we are just thrilled to have her home.

Dear Toyota Financial Services,

We've had a great run, you and I. And though this tears me up to say, I think our relationship has run it's course. Yes, I know, we've had some good times. Like the night we first met, when I signed my life away too you and I drove off the lot in that shiny new Camery. It was election night - the night George W. was elected to the presidency. We should have known at that that we wouldn't last!

You never complained when I paid you late. Thank you for that. And if I paid you a little extra, you made sure to delay my next bill so that I wouldn't continue to pay you off early. That was so sweet. Maybe a tad desperate, but sweet just the same. And I fell for it.

This last year or so...I don't know...I guess my house payment has taken your place in my thoughts. It requires so much more of my energy, but it gives me so much more in return. I'm sorry. The truth does hurt. Maybe I shouldn't say this, but I need you to know - I've looked forward to this goodbye with eager anticipation since the house first came along.

Well, take care of yourself. We may meet again someday. Though, I believe my next car may be German.

Love always,
Katie

P.S. Your final payment will be arriving in the mail early Monday morning.

On the Road to Conquering Technology

I'm the kind of gal who knows enough about computers to get done what I need to get done and move on. The other night my dad asked me how much memory my home computer has. Who was he kidding asking me a question like that? I can't keep those stats and figures straight! Ram, Rom, gigahertz and megabytes. None of it makes much sense to me - mostly because I simply couldn't care less. I just want a computer that turns on when I hit the button and runs all of the programs I need it to run and says good night when I shut it down.

But, I believe that I'm turning a corner on this attitude towards technology. Just this weekend I managed to download a program and pull all of my pirated songs from Dan off of my iPod free of charge. As if that weren't fantastic enough, I set my sights quickly on learning how to download concerts. Lusting after the latest Tweedy show I saw in Columbus with Cass, I was determined to learn for myself this magic that I've only seen Dan wield. At first it seemed complicated. Torrents, seeds, peers, flacs and wavs - it was a foreign language. With the help of Wikipedia and a little bit of patience, I managed to figure it out pretty quickly. I can't remember the last time I felt as giddy as I did listening to the first song from the concert. It was a giddiness that only today has subsided. But wait! Today, quite by accident I learned how to rewind a song on my iPod. A miracle! You know...I may just make it on my own afterall. Nearly every roar starts off as a meow.

Where I've Been...

I haven't been the most diligent of bloggers lately. This past week was crazy busy at work with a deadline requiring some serious cramming. In between cramming and free time, I've also been trying to make some progress on my move to a new cube. This new cube may not have a window and may be slightly smaller, but it's a heck of a lot quieter (thank sweet jesus for that!). The move has forced me to wade my way through five years of old papers and plans - trip down memory lane. I've also sorted through my old e-mails, deleting nearly everything that couldn't be filed toward a project. I'm getting a fresh start on everything else - I might as well make the best of it. Here's a picture of my new digs. Nice, huh? I haven't seen that side of my map in 5 years!


I haven't seen this side of my map in 5 years.

If you didn't see the sky tonight...

it looked something like this:
spectacular

An aphorism to live by

I was listening to NPR the other morning and a particularly interesting item caught my attention. A writer was being interviewed for a book he had just written on the subject of aphorisms - you know, those little practical catch-phrases that super-smart people like Twain and Angelou and Lincoln have coined. Well, the writer mentioned one aphorism in particular written by Emerson. It goes something like this: "Life consists of what a man thinks all day."

It doesn't exactly roll off the tongue but it is strikingly true. And it's appropriate at this time in my life that such a simple truth be brought to my attention in an undeniable way. My life is my thoughts. And since that is the case, I feel like I need to be more conscious of that in my every moment. I need to catch myself when I'm thinking negatively or when I'm dwelling on an issue I simply have no power to resolve or when my mind is cranking too hard on work when I'm sitting at home on the couch.

If my life is indeed my thoughts, I've got to make them count for something.