Trading in the Portia

No status updates from the original photographer (72 hours and counting) or return call from the niece/photographer, so I'm on to Plan C.

I contacted Margaret Sison, who photographed our neighbor's son's wedding. Her work is amazing and she was available July 22! We're meeting Monday to have her scout the location, discuss what we'd like, and finalize other details. She's been amazingly responsive--unlike the photogs I fired.

I called the original studio last night to get their fax number. When they called back this morning, the clerk cheerfully informed me that their founding photographer would be coming to my event! I said the letter I was about to fax to you cancels our contract. I couldn't move forward with so many questions left unanswered (until JUST NOW!) and I'd booked someone else.

She didn't say much to that. I faxed the letter and sent another copy registered mail to their office. I even asked them to return my non-refundable deposit as a gesture of goodwill.

The last time I asked for a perk, I got it--free desserts when we were asked to move to a different table! Don't ask, don't get, right? We'll see what they do. As far as I know, holding the wedding date was the only service they rendered. And I could really use the cash to pay my new, reliable photographer!

Bad parenting is like pornography

You know it when you see it. Or hear it, as in last night's case.

Our next-door neighbors--the ones who built the god-awful cinderblock wall down the center of the shared driveway--have a daughter who's about 7 or 8 years old.

As I was turning in after an inordinately stressful day, I hear the daughter screaming and her dad yelling back that now she would know the difference between the parent and the child. (I can't imagine what led up to this declaration).

Neighbor dad's preferred method of discipline is to put his screaming daughter in the car, parked on the shared driveway. This is maybe 15 feet away from my open bedroom window.

Thus confined, the child's screaming and crying and the dad's yelling continued, punctuated occasionally by the car's horn. All this at 11:00 pm. The hubbub continued for about 40 minutes.

It was clear I wasn't going to get any shut-eye while this was going on. It's the kind of thing you can't help but eavesdrop on because it's loud and RIGHT THERE and you hope it will go away before it becomes necessary to call the authorities.

I told mom about the commotion and she said the kid is a terror and the shouting matches/disciplinary action used to be much worse. The kid's a home-grown terrorist, apparently, and the dad has some decidedly odd notions of how to handle it. (Same guy who thought two cement horse heads would make his cinderblock wall look classy).

Commenting on other peoples' parenting skills is always a little sketchy--especially when a single, childless person like myself is providing the critique. But deprive an already stressed out bride from her precious sleep, well, prepare to be skewered. And if you insist on using poor technique, at least try to be a little quieter.

Expletive, expletive, expletive

Alas, the photographers did not call back within 24 hours to tell me who's coming to shoot the wedding. This doesn't exactly inspire confidence.

I called and left a message for Mike's niece, who I thought was a strong candidate for a backup only to find out later while talking to Mike that she isn't as much of a sure thing as I had thought. He talked mainly to his sister about the niece doing photography and that was several months ago.

Now I'm on full court press to find another photographer 3 weeks before the wedding. I'm sure you can imagine how I feel about that.

Quiz: bridal hair

How many bobby pins did it take to anchor this 'do? Go on, give it your best guess.

Stupid Blogger inserted 3 copies of the same picture. Had to edit the html to get rid of them. Still does the goofy, uncontrollable layout thing.

Our Lady of Perpetual Updates

Because the 3 other posts didn't capture all of the new news, here's more.

• Brother John dislocated his knee during jujitsu. The self-proclaimed Flower Boy will likely be on crutches at the wedding. Hey, maybe we can get the florist to decorate them!
• Wish the pants were traveling: Lands End emailed to let me know Janet's back ordered groomsperson pants are going to be on back order until 7/10! YIKES. I called and ordered another pair; we'll find out Friday whether these are actually available.
• The photographers did call back and are scrambling to keep my business. Will let us know by tomorrow who's shooting the wedding and will email samples of their work for me to OK. Said they'd give me a videographer for half price.
• My departure was announced at work during a staff meeting. The news was met by some gasps, a few questions after the meeting, and a smattering of apathy. Could be folks were more interested in the cake brought in for the section manager's birthday.
• Co-worker Cindy got the news this morning and did not rush to congratulate me as our supervisor predicted she would.
• My phone at work is suddenly on the fritz. It rings, but there's no dial tone and when I try to pick up a call, it won't connect me to the caller.

Thanks, Craig!

I just logged onto craigslist.com and saw that USA listings are now organized by state (formerly by big cities/metro areas).

For kicks, I clicked on Texas and found--to my GREAT delight--a new Craigslist entry for McAllen/Edinburg! Can't find words for how excited I am to have CL serve my new hometown.

So what if there are only 36 job postings and 3 rants and raves so far? It's a start. And the Rio Grande Valley Girl is READY.

Scheduling Conflict

The folks from my home ward are beyond excited about the wedding. However, there is something of a scheduling conflict brewing.

The Rosemead Ward merged with/became the Temple City Ward a while back and Our Way of doing things is different than their Way.

In Rosemead, Pioneer Day celebration was always scheduled for the Monday night closest to July 24. In ward council meeting, this was shot down by a by-the-book guy from the Temple City population--we can't do that, against the rules to have ANY church activity on a Monday night, etc. The compromise: have the ward Pioneer Day picnic on July 15 instead.

Well, in last Sunday's ward bulletin, the Pioneer Day picnic is now scheduled for high noon on July 22--the same day as the wedding. It's also the last night of the Stake Play, which should have trumped scheduling of any ward activities if you're going By The Book.

About half of activities committee is coming to the wedding on July 22, including the guy who was supposed to cook for the ward picnic. Other committee members made other plans for the 22nd because the activity was scheduled for the 15th.

Of course, the whole mess could be alleviated if Bro. Rulebook had been a wee bit flexible on having the Pioneer Day picnic in lieu of family Home Evening. Instead, there's a ward activity the same day as the stake play (which Bro. Rulebook is directing; I wonder if he'll knock himself out going to both activities?)

Anyway, the folks who RSVPd are coming to the wedding--they've waited too long to miss this blessed event. But oh what a stir it's caused at the ward!

Pulling a Donald?

So, we're 4 weeks out from the wedding and I may have to fire the photographers.

The photos on their website and marketing CD were phenomenal--better than the other vendors I'd interviewed AND in my price range, even with the cost of flying two photographers in from Utah.

Ever since I put down the deposit, I've been asking them two questions: 1) Which 2 of your 6 photographers are shooting my wedding? and 2) Will you send me some samples of their work?

I did finally get a CD of photos from a wedding the company did in Laguna Beach. However, the quality of the work was significantly less impressive. As in I wouldn't have put down a deposit had I seen these photos first. When I asked, they can't tell me WHO took them, but yeah, those are the photogs they're sending July 22. As Spock would say, "That is illogical."

At this point, I'd rather be out a $400 deposit than be disappointed in the quality of the wedding photos. Even though I've left two messages with this outfit, they have yet to call me back to 1) make a stunning 9th inning play to keep my business or 2) give me answers to the two questions I've already asked. At minimum, they need to tell me who they're sending and if they're sending the takers of the lackluster Laguna Beach pictures, then I'm not interested.

We do have a backup: Mike's niece was just hired on at a well-known photography studio in SLC (the one that takes pics of Governors and General Authorities) and she'll be at the wedding. Otherwise, I'd be a wreck.

I do have the "emergency" number for the photographers. I'll give them another day before I start calling that number to ask whether they would consider a client about to pull the plug on a job an "emergency."

High Praise

In spite of my impending departure, Human Resources insisted my supervisor perform my annual review.

After getting dinged for being "verbose" in my last review (and because I knew I was leaving), I was quite succinct in describing my accomplishments and work during the past year.

Supervisor agreed I've had a great year, not only mastering closeout procedures but also juggling my active tasks and supporting my internal customers. And no one gets the final deliverables like I do! I am the Goddess of Final Deliverables!

She said I've set some high standards for whoever takes over. (She's got that right). My RAs love working with me and one even said "Mary Ellen is a value to me that is beyond measure" and gushed about me to my supervisor at a meeting a few months ago. And this from one of my "low maintenance" RAs.

It's nice to know my customers appreciate my work--to the point that they rave about me to others.

Just when I'm kicking butt at everything, it's time to go off on other new adventures. Makes it a bittersweet departure.

I wanted to leave on a high note--and I am. And I've got the documentation to prove it. :)

Judging Ito

Another minor celebrity sighting! I saw Judge Lance Ito--who became a household name thanks to the O.J. Simpson trial and Jay Leno--at Macy's in Pasadena.

And while standing at the Origins counter, I saw a familiar-looking guy get off the elevator. We looked at each other, looked away, then looked again. So I said, "Hey, did you go to San Gabriel High School?" Turns out he had, class of 1987.

I'm guessing this sort of thing won't happen so often in Texas.

I Noticed You...

The deed is done!

I had the verbal conversation with my supervisor to inform her I was giving notice. She let out a loud "WHAT!?" and I filled her in on the particulars--everything's fallen into place the past few weeks to do the wedding this summer and have the kids be there, etc.

She wanted to know if I'd be moving (yes--Mike's best offer was in Texas) and asked if he'd gotten a house. Yes, with mature citrus trees; she's an AVID gardener, so this tickled her. Blank canvas, she said gleefully.

We chatted a bit about the politics of Mormon weddings, as she'd been a maid of honor for a Mormon friend and had to stand outside the temple with bride's younger sisters.

She was genuinely happy for me, even with the impact it means to her work life. I said I was sensitive to the impact my departure will have and felt it was my responsibility to soften the impact as much as I can. She'll have to confer with the other managers before deciding who gets my active tasks, but it looks like that will be Cindy. Once that's definite, I'll start contacting my customers. I've taken good care of them, so I'm sure they'll miss me!

Yvonne warned me that she intends to tease me about being a "short-timer" for the next two weeks. In the meantime, I have a lot of work to do!

Flocking to the Theater

Mom invited me to join the church ladies for their ritual Hen Night at the Movies. The drill: meet at Panda Express at 6:00 pm for dinner (arrive earlier to score the padded seats) and head to the 7:00 pm show.

Last night's selection was, of course, The Lake House with Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves. I like Keanu; he was completely charming in Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure and for this reason I'm willing to overlook his funny, pigeon-toed run and his wooden delivery.

I didn't have high expectations; I'd read a review beforehand. But still: what a stinker! There was the convoluted premise--would-be soulmates living two years apart communicating through a magic mailbox--which required more than the usual amount of suspended disbelief.

And dear Keanu was more wooden than usual (who'd have thought that possible). Other characters fared better with the clunky material, but not by much.

Unfortunately, the twist at the end puzzled the church ladies and we wandered out of the theater attempting to decipher what exactly happened during the last 10 minutes of the film.

Think of the twist in The Sixth Sense and imagine if that had been attempted by a less skilled group pf people, say a junior high drama club. That's the level of headscratching it inspired among the church ladies. And since I was "young," they kept trying to make me explain the ending to them. As if, in the midst of wedding planning, I had the mental capacity to do so.

First rule of chick flicks: don't confuse the flock.

Not Enough RAM

So. Many. Wedding. Details. I have to write every thought down, otherwise it escapes, never to resurface.

I know pregnant women get forgetful, but no one mentioned this happens when you're planning a wedding, too.

Yesterday, I forgot my work badge. Didn't occur to me I didn't have it on until I after I'd parked my car. Later in the day, I remembered the badge was in my purse; I'd hauled it around with me in case I needed to go to the office over the weekend but I forgot to go.

This morning, I forgot to apply deodorant. Not so good when it will be in the 90s today. Fortunately, I keep a stick in my desk drawer for just such emergencies.

Still, I don't like being perpetually scattered. Is this how flaky people feel all the time?

Accessories

Went to Father's Day bunch with the familia yesterday. Asked brother John if he would mind being an usher for the ceremony. He agreed--and, as an added bonus, offered to be Flower Boy. I already have a flower girl lined up, but in case she gets shy, it's nice to have a 6-foot-tall man as backup.

When we got home, I changed clothes and decided to try on the hat & veil mom bought for me. It matched the dress color perfectly and had a 50s vibe, which was why we snapped it up. The veil does come off the hat, but it dawned on me that I'll probably have to wear the hat the whole time--something I had not considered. Hoping it's not like graduation--having to move carefully so the mortarboard won't skid off my head.

I go for the hair and makeup trial next Saturday, so I'll get at least one trial run with the updo, hat and veil.

Also considering the purchase of paper fans for guests. Had thought about doing an elaborate, multi-paneled program/fan, but mom lobbied for something simpler. I also bought tissue paper to try making a Martha Stewart pom pom flower; if it goes well, I may make more. In my spare time, ha ha.

My first babysitter has signed on to be our event coordinator on the wedding day! Mom, Christine and I went to the site and mapped out the ceremony setup--who stands where and how they get there, etc. There will now be an aisle runner involved and some other details that hadn't occurred to us so far. Now debating when to have the cake delivered so the chocolate mousse won't melt in the July heat...

Psych!

Over the weekend it occurred to me to give notice today, Monday. That way, I wouldn't have the Albatross around my neck until Friday.

A Monday disclosure would also lend itself to the semi-fiction that things have fallen into place to have the wedding this summer and that I wanted to let my supervisor know so we could train whoever will take over my active tasks.

I dressed up, arrived early, psyched myself up with a few breathing exercises in my office, and headed down the hall to supervisor's office.

She wasn't there.

Now my stomach is in knots. Do I go through with it today? Argh!

What good is a fabulous haircut

if nobody notices?

David the Hair God took about 4 inches off yesterday and layered the hell out of what was left. So far, no one at the office has noticed.

That's not entirely true. Yesterday (pre-haircut), the recycle guy noticed I haven't colored my hair lately and even weighed in on the shade he liked the best. Darker brown, not the vivid reds. And one of our computer techs noticed I'd had my eyebrows waxed the ONE time I did that.

The hair is just a bit past my shoulders now. This morning I put in a couple of Velcro rollers while I made breakfast and gave it a little blast with the blow dryer on cool and that was it. Done.

I could talk about hair for hours.

Unhappy Father's Day

My mom just called to tell me Dad's laptop was stolen from his office. He left the office door unlocked and someone took it between 11:00 pm last night and 11:00 this morning. I guess I'll be locking my car at night from now on...

It's doubly oooky because Dad's office is behind our garage and the door is not visible from the street or even from the front of the garage. You have to be intimately involved with our backyard to see the office at all and you can't see into the office because of all the crapola Dad has covering the window inside and out.

This opens up the possibility that someone from the neighborhood did the deed. Who else would have any idea it was there, let alone be aware of its contents?

It was a new laptop and it had years' worth of family history, family photos, and other research/hobby information stored in it. Dad transferred some of his from his old desktop, but there are some files/info he won't be able to replace. Mom called me and was going to call the police.

We're fortunate: no one was hurt. It's just stuff. But I LIKE my stuff. I'll admit it. I have THINGS that I'm quite attached to. I don't want someone taking my stuff, especially something as personal as family history. I hope karma bites the thief in the ass.

And I'm projecting a bit: If I lost MY laptop with the wedding spreadsheet with all the addresses and RSVPs and the wedding budget, I'd be screwed.

Of course, this simplifies what to get Dad for Father's Day...

Vote Pas

The June 6 election no one cared about is behind us. However, there's a interesting drama emerging from the results.

Judge Dzintra Janavs was unseated by Lynn Diane Olson, a bagel shop owner who hasn't practiced law in 14 years.

The LA Times first attributed the election results to subtle racism: people voted for the candidate with the pronounceable name. A second article delved into the flurry of slate mailers from official-sounding organizations recommending candidates--the ones who ponied up cash to be recommended, apparently.

I confess, I was among the misled. Didn't follow my usual protocol of perusing my state-issued election guide and researching the issues or candidates. Failed to notice that I had voted against a respected judge and handed her seat to someone the Los Angeles County Bar Association deemed "not qualified." My bad.

I was too busy patting myself on the back for getting my parents to vote (read: shaming them into it while the polls were still open) that I lost sight of my own responsibility to be an INFORMED voter.

I won't make that mistake again!

This is getting easier

I complained to Mike about the work situation and the problem that no one but me seems interested in solving.

His take: training will resolve skill set deficiencies, but the real issue seems to be lack of motivation, both on the administrators' parts (to prep files for Closeout at all, let alone correctly) and on management's part (if the boss doesn't give two figs about the task, why should the underlings?)

No one here wants to change, even for the better. The section flounders along and will keep doing that long after I'm gone. Maybe I'm supposed to learn where and on whom to bestow my best gifts--and not insist on giving unwanted gifts as I have done so often.

My mananger came in this morning after two days' vacation to tell me that the section manager is working on the budget for next year. She wants an estimate for our imaging system's operational costs for next fiscal year and when the bills for technical support come due.

Y apologized for not letting me know she needed this information sooner. Nevertheless she wants the estimates by end of business today, hence turning her failure to plan into MY problem to fix. Which I will, because I still care about doing a good job. But I won't find it so hard to say goodbye to this work situation.

They're also feeling the pinch of other poor decisions: our financial analyst spends her days reviewing and correcting Camilla's abysmal Oracle data entry work. She sighs heavily, exclaims "What is she doing?!?" but checks herself before saying too much to me. It's clear she's frustrated. It's clear C is wrong for the job. It's clear management won't course correct. I'm less sympathetic to the plights they've created.

I give notice next Friday. Woo Hoo!

More B.S.

More photos arranged by the uncontrollable layout powers of Blogger. Or not. Seems they've disappeared. Trying again. Nothing. Hmmm.

Now I don't know how to take the botched picture down.

B.S. Photos

Thought I'd try uploading some individual pictures from the shower. Here goes.

B. S. Report

Actually, that stands for Bridal Shower! My maid of honor, Angela, put together a fabulous bridal shower Saturday at the Rose Tree Garden flower & tea shop.

We'd gone there for tea months ago and Angela reserved their outdoor patio for a June 10 bridal shower tea. All we had to do was pick out the teas, the tea sandwiches and the scone flavors and show up. All parties should be this easy!

In attendance: family (my mom, cousin Marian, cousin Judy and her daughter, Bridget, and my aunt's sister, Nora); friends from Mormon circles (women from the ward I grew up in, my current ward and from my days in the singles ward); one friend/confidant from work (who had the good sense to transfer out of my dysfunctional section); longtime women friends I've met through mutual friends, Mormon studies connections or both; a friend from the 2-year counseling certification class I took; one friend who's not Mormon, but I met her when she visited my ward (her husband is also responsible for my second tattoo); and one friend I've known since high school (who's hit it off so well with some of my rogue Mormon friends that they want to adopt her when I leave).

I don't know that I've had this many women I love in one place at one time. In fact, I'm getting a little teary typing this as I think about all the wonderful, strong, intelligent, creative, supportive, resilient and hilariously funny women I have in my life. And that wasn't even ALL of them! I am, in a word, blessed to have them in my circle--and to have so many circles come together and overlap. I'm glad I'll be seeing so many of them again at the wedding, plus I'm marrying into a whole CLAN of them when I join the Stevens family. They rock!

Oh my lord, did they SPOIL me! Their generous group gift: an 8-hour day of treatments at Amadeus Spa and gift certificates to spend at Lush and Origins--two of my favorite places for deliciously-scented bath and body products. My profound thanks for making me feel so pampered and loved! I'll be so relaxed, I may forget my own name...

I'll post the link to some of the pictures Wendy took. Hope it works. If not, I'll post individual shots later.

http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=pi9fe2z.6tk0o1br&x=0&y=9gjb5n

Deja Vu

I stop by my supervisor's office to advocate refresher training for all the contract administrators on submitting a file to Closeout. I've been logging incoming files and it seems almost every one has an issue--something not done or not done right/completely.

Since I run into snags every time, I suspect the larger problem is that the administrators either don't know what to do or do this task so infrequently that they forget how in between. (Still others hoard their files, but that's another story).

I bring this up with my supervisor--problem A keeps happening. Refresher training would help alleviate problem A--or at least make our expectations clear. This problem creates inefficiencies--it's a waste of time to deal with these issues and oversights on a case-by-case basis.

Supervisor says additional training IS coming, but we don't know when; we have people out on leave and can't schedule it, everyone's strapped for time, etc.

(Wouldn't it make sense to deal with problem A in the meantime? Or do we just forgive everyone for not doing their work correctly?)

Then she says "I need examples of problem A." I already gave her 2 examples in my opening pitch. So I remind her and give her a couple more. This apparently is insufficient, so I remind her of a big hairy problem we had with a file because a series of administrators didn't transfer the property correctly.

Supervisors says "Oh, well, that was just the ONE time."

(Why do I feel like I'm fighting with my mother? You do X. Give me an example of me doing X. You did X [cite last 3 instances.] Are you dragging that up again?)

I said I don't have a list of ALL the problems from the past year, but I HAVE encountered problems of A's type EVERY TIME I log incoming files. Each "one time" adds up over time.

I made a good case and I'm willing to pony up a solution by writing a procedure guide. Supervisor said she'd be willing to review it and discuss the matter with the other supervisors. In other words, I can do the extra work, but no promises that anyone else is interested in SOLVING the problem.

Name That Tune

I'm terrible at connecting a composer and title with a piece of classical music. Normally, this doesn't impact my life. However it is making it difficult to pick out music for the wedding ceremony.

I got a demo CD from a string quartet wanting my business, but the wedding songs were only 45 seconds long. Long enough for me to think, "Yeah, that sounds familiar" and then promptly forget what I heard. Pachabel? Jesu, Joy of what was that again...?

I called a violist who plays with the local Philharmonic and used to live in my ward. She says she has the same problem--even with music she's just performed. I'm guessing that's something she doesn't talk about at work? (Kind of like my former supervisor who confessed he believed the moon landing was staged).

This reminds me of David Lodge books I read in college, recounting the adventures of professors of English who keep crossing each other's paths. Very fun read for lit majors. In one of the books, the characters play a game called Humiliation, wherein they confess which seminal literary works in their area of specialty they have NOT read.

In spite of years of violin and piano lessons, being sacrament meeting chorister and singing in at least 4 choirs, I confess I don't know how to read music. Which may account for some of my congenital inability to connect composers (other than Andrew Lloyd Webber) with their work.

So...anyone with greater musical gifts want to help me pick some weddin' music?

Happy Returns

I work in contract closeout, which means I cold call task managers asking for final reports/deliverable documentation--often many years after work has finished on the project. They aren't always happy to hear from me.

Some TMs stonewall--they promise to send me final reports and never do. Others are extraordinarily helpful and happy to bring the matter to an official close.

I lucked into one of the latter this week. I left a voicemail yesterday asking Albert for help finding a final report. According to the file, several other administrators before me had tried (and failed) to get documentation.

When I came in this morning, I had 8 emails from Albert. In the first, he said the work was completed, gave me the contact information for the sponsor representative he'd worked with and wanted to know what he could do to help me do my job. He also forwarded me 7 emails--correspondence between him and the sponsor regarding the project.

He had me at, "I remember this task."

I replied via email, thanking him for the additional information and said I would contact the sponsor for confirmation. A few minutes after I sent my reply, Albert called me. He said he prefers to interact live rather than through electrons. He also apologized for not being very nice to the last contract administrator who contacted him! [Drops jaw in awe]. I told my officemates and my manager about that part!

It doesn't always go this well, but what a treat when it does! I AM going to miss this part of my job.

Sounds Inviting

I put the first batch of invitations in the mail Friday; still collecting a few straggling addresses for the second batch which I hope to send out this week.

My friend Jana (graphic designer extraordinaire) directed me to the Stylart website to look at their selection of wedding invitations. When I dropped by the local Party City to check out their offerings in person, I fell in love with the flower-embossed invite Jana pointed out.

In comparison, the invite Mike and I had both agreed on (a garden-y one with leaves & flowers printed on it) didn't seem quite as appealing. I showed both to Mike, debated whether the extra postage for the embossed ones was worth it (yes) and placed the order.

I wanted to find a post office willing to hand cancel the postage. The first two I called acted like I was on crack for even asking--something I'd been warned about on the craigslist wedding forum.

Francine at the main Post Office in Pasadena said they'd be able to hand cancel them. When I got to the desk clerk, he weighed an invitation and said they would not require extra postage. I looked at him like HE was on crack: large square envelopes typically DO require extra postage. There was NO WAY I was going to slap on regular 39 cent stamps.

I kept protesting that square envelopes cost more to mail. We stood there giving each other the stinkeye until Francine appeared (bless her!) and told the clerk yes, there is a surcharge for square envelopes and yes, it was OK to hand cancel them at his station between customers.

With that, he shrugged and said OK, sold me 120 wedding stamps, and closed his window while I applied stamps to the invitations. He had not returned by the time I was done, so I wrote "Please hand cancel" on the box containing the invitations, thanked him and Francine for their help and left the box on the counter hoping they would take care of it.

The next day, many people I saw at Rowan's birthday party had already received theirs and said how pretty they were. :)

Cat Out of Bag

Mom and dad came home from Utah for Rowan's 90th birthday bash. Halfway through the party, I happened upon mom as she was talking to the stake president's wife; they used to work together at the school district on the Vital Volunteer program.

Seeing the SP's wife and the stake president himself reminded mom of the Officiant Question. She pulled me aside and said" Have you asked the SP to do the ceremony?" Ah, the Moment of Truth.

I said we'd asked a Mormon friend of mine to officiate--one who also, we discovered, has a long history with Mike's family. Through her sunglasses, mom didn't exactly look pleased. At least the reveal happened in public--no scenes. I said we were very happy to have Mark doing the ceremony and he's tickled to be doing it.

Mom asked whether Mark would be dignified about doing the ceremony. I reassured her that he would be.

I wonder if she was worried about the ceremony turning out like my friends Marilyn & Chester's wedding. The bride and groom both wore ape costumes and red Converse high tops, the minister was dressed as a ringmaster, and the guests came in costume. I wore a stunning handmade orange vinyl carrot costume with green pipe cleaner fronds. It was one of the funnest weddings I've been to.

No, mom. Rest assured no one will be dressed as a giant carrot at MY wedding. (Sigh.)

Party Preview

Cousin Marian threw a huge bash Saturday to celebrate her husband Rowan's 90th birthday. They invited relatives, friends, professional colleagues, the whole ward--even the girl at the local McDonald's who sells Rowan his daily Egg McMuffin.

Marian had family members come early for pictures and introductions. A woman in our ward has been helping Marian track down Rowan's long-lost family members and several were in attendance, including Rowan's son and niece and some distant cousins. It was lovely to meet them.

It was a great party, complete with killer Mexican food from El Cholo (still salivating over it), Southwest decorations, a bouncy house for the kids and a roving Mariachi band.

Mom heard from Marian that a bunch of kids had walked/bounced on the pool cover during the party--foul! An adult woman had also tried to walk across it and got wet when it sank under her weight. I can understand little kids not knowing better than to walk on the pool cover, but an adult?! WTF?

Marian & Rowan's party was a great dry run for the wedding, which will also take place in their yard. I got to see where to stage the ceremony and the reception tables and food set-up (we won't have food on the upstairs patio with poor ingress/egress, for example). Plus I got to see where the sun hits the yard at various times of day so we aren't fire-roasting the wedding guests.

I'm hoping against hope it won't be as blazingly hot on July 22 as it was Saturday. The yard has plenty of shade, thankfully, but if it's over 100 degrees, we could quite possibly drown in our own sweat regardless.