Permission

Adele

As I drove to work this morning, all the morning radio shows talked about Adele and how she swept the Grammies. They played her live performance, snippets of her interviews, and in general, discussed her awesomeness.

Of course, I've known Adele was great since I 'discovered' her back in 2009 with her "Chasing Pavements" single. I was wandering around a Floridian grocery store, vehemently vacillating between key limes and regular limes in the produce aisle when I first heard Adele's sultry voice piped in over the industrial speakers. The song stuck in my head that entire week.

Ever since then, Adele's voice has reminded me of Florida. And vacation. And limes.

Nonetheless, I thought about Adele a few times today. Exactly what does a 23 year-old who has just conquered the music world with six Grammies do?

Does she eat a cheeseburger, a la Hillary Swank?

Does she get drunk, a la Lindsay Lohan?

Does she put Mrs. Doubtfire in the dvd player and sing along with Robin Williams' lines?

What would you do the day after you completely conquered your chosen field?

End of an Era...Beginning of Forever

I used to laugh when watching Friends and Rachel had to move out of Monica's apartment when Monica and Chandler decided to (illicitly!) live together before marriage. Whatever. The funny part is that it was "an end of an era."

I have to confess that I sensed a tremendous sense of loss today. Harry Potter is over and it's the end of an era. Jack and I went to see Harry Potter (which we thought opened last weekend, guess we're not as big of fans as I thought!). Anyway, HP #7 #2 was great and Harry saved humankind (surprise!). I watched a story on the Biography channel about the making of the Harry Potter films and know that 98% of the films were shot with green and blue screens behind the actors and mostly, the actors were the only 'real' thing in the films. Anyway, today we went to see the final installment in a film series that has accompanied us the last ten years.

We bought the newest Potter novels several times at midnight; for the Goblet of Fire book, we waited in line two hours. We saw HP #4 on opening day in Dublin while vacationing in Ireland and cheered with the Irish team in the Quidditch World Cup. Everyone in that theatre in Dublin cheered on that Irish team! Talk about camaraderie!

We saw every Potter film in the theatre except #1, when we watched that flat on our backs. Seriously. Jack and I both had a terrible flu thing in 2002. I was burning up with a 103 fever and Jack was coughing up a storm...Jack was in better shape to do a quick Meijer run for OJ, Ginger Ale, and Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. We watched the movie twice in a row; one, because it was good and two, we couldn't really move to do anything else. Oddly enough, it was memorable.

Hence, our love for Harry Potter was born.

In our first collegiate apartment (nothing says 'collegiate apartment' like a crappy 17" television and Irish flag nailed to the wall), we gobbled sour gummy worms and took turns trying to beat the PS2 Harry Potter game, cursing over lost wands and incorrect spells.

We eventually matured so we could read the books and watch the movies without cursing. But on some level, we still grew up with Harry Potter. The phenomenon started when we were newly married, penniless, and dependent upon store sales to make available chicken wings, potato skins, more gummy worms, and cheap strawberry daiquiri mix to fuel our Potter parties.

Wow. Potter parties? No, we really didn't do that. Sounds cool, though, eh? Jack, Jack's brother, and The Edge often joined us for impromptu Euchre games. Our penniless state lent itself to many Saturday nights in our tiny, collegiate apartment. As Harry was young and vulnerable and clueless in the early films, so were we.

Harry matured in the films to follow. He eventually defeated huge snakes, dementors, goblets and contests, witches, Snape, and, finally, Voldemort (how much power does that franchise have over me that I feel I should say "He Who Must Not Be Named" instead of "Voldemort?"). As corny as it sounds, Jack and I matured as Harry matured in his wizard role. We gained confidence as the years ticked by, marked with experiences and stories from our life together. You soon get to stop acting and start living...because you understand your roles and how marriage should go.

I can tell you this because we spent last night together, reminiscing about our marriage. Our 10 year anniversary is in a couple weeks and we mentally traversed the battleground of early marriage to the easy friendship accompanying year 10! We talked about our youth, the proms and youth group events we attended in high school, our courtship, our wacky engagement, our wedding, our first two married years that were very trying on us both, our first house, and our scary years of 2006-07. Then we rehashed the year-month-and-eight-days we spent apart in 2009-10, our move out of SB, to now, the crazy-yet-awesome life we share. Every experience makes you who you are today and without those crazy and sometimes scary experiences, we wouldn't and couldn't be who we are today.

So while Harry's been though his own crud, with Voldemort and all that, Jack and I have made it ten years together. Because we got married young, many thought we wouldn't make it. Sure, we've been through our own crud. But at the risky of sounding dramatic, Jack is truly my soulmate. When I have a great day, I want to tell him about it. When we have a fight and disagree, I find I want to talk to him about it. He only encourages me in my career ladder-climbing; he's my sounding-board about my employee issues at work and the professional challenges I face. When I don't know what to do, he has a suggestion that usually befits some part of me I've neglected too long. I have to give him kudos- when I'm on the brink of falling apart, he'll hide my blackberry or ask me "what do you need from me?" And I know he'll do whatever he can for me.

That's love. Selfless love.

He can often outdo me in the selfless love category...

I hate to compare Jack to Harry Potter, but it's somewhat appropriate. Harry offered up himself for the good of humankind and Jack offers me whatever he can for the good of Dorrie. It's humbling to me. Usually the expression goes, "behind every strong man, there's a strong woman." Except in this case, "behind every strong woman, there's a stronger man."

Happy (early) anniversary, Jack!

At Least It Wasn't Brady!

Do you have anyone in your life that makes you totally and completely nervous? Are there any high-level executives or medical professionals or even celebrities that make you tongue-tied? Your palms sweat and your heart races at the mere thought of speaking to them?

I always used to think I could easily befriend Jennifer Aniston or even a broken-hearted Britney Spears because I’m not usually star-struck. I could care less what kind of tuna Jessica Simpson ate or whether Brad Pitt has another kid. The only people who have really made me star-struck were Pope John Paul II in 1999 (from, like, 200 feet away) and Brady Quinn at Notre Dame stadium (for obvious reasons). However, I did not have occasion to *talk* to either of them. I could handle my sweating palms and racing heart from afar!

So the dynamic changes a bit when you have to *talk* to someone. You want them to think you’re a svelte, suave, savvy, eloquent human being and there’s nothing like that sort of pressure to, well, make your palms sweaty and heart race.

I have this complex with Jim Henson, the CEO of Muppetville. Pardon my potential blasphemy here, but he reminds me of a god (small “g” not large “G”). He wields so much power, seems omnipotent, and I would invariably run into him at Muppet Corporate when I worked there. I’d instantly find my heart racing and tongue fumbling to make our short interaction worth his godly time and noteworthy in his memory. I’m not sure why he intimidates me so; he’s just a person. That’s what I tell my nurses when they are nervous about talking to a doctor or another staff member about talking to Elvis. They’re just people! They have fears and cry and barf just like the rest of us.

[I told you, I’m probably clinically crazy].

Anyway, I still have this complex a little bit when I see Jim around St. Fozzie’s. I’m fine in scheduled meetings; my heart rate has a chance to return to normal before I speak. But when he catches me unaware, I’m a wreck. A couple months ago, he called St. Fozzie’s for me and I walked so fast from the boardroom to my office that I was out of breath. I couldn’t talk the first 3 minutes of the conversation because I had no oxygen in my bloodstream. Then just last week, I walked out of the ladies’ room and physically ran into him in the hallway by the boardroom . Then ten minutes later, he was standing 2 feet from my office door, shuffling papers and stapling things (don’t we have a secretary around to help with that?!). The words, “Jim-do-you-need-my-office-cuz-you-can-have-it-if-you-need-it” came rushing breathlessly out of my mouth in a non-coherent, crazy manner.

Yeah, I was cool that day. Major ROI toward an inpatient psyche ward.

So imagine my surprise when I was sitting in a regularly-scheduled meeting this afternoon and my pager suddenly buzzed to life. I looked down and it was a number from which Jim has called me from Muppet Corporate. I excused myself, trying to quell the sweaty-palm, racing-heart phenomenon and dialed the number from my office. It wasn’t Jim, but Jim’s next-in-command, the Muppet system CMO. I had emailed him a quick question the day before and instead of emailing back, he paged me so we could talk in person.

It was actually really nice of him to take time out of his day to talk to lil’ ol’ me, but I could’ve passed on the adrenaline that dripped down my spine! We had a great talk and once my dumb parasynthetic nervous system calmed down, I was fine.

Thank goodness it wasn’t the Pope calling! Or worse, Brady Quinn!

The Hangover

While my hangover didn't consist of a wild night in Vegas during which I somehow stole Mike Tyson's Bengal tiger, I've been hungover these past two days.

I nursed two glasses of wine during the five hour gala (and know it's not a chemical dehydration induced from the alcohol), but keep feeling very, very tired. You know that feeling you have after weddings, where you're sort of let down and exhausted? That's how I feel. Unless it's because I'm getting sick again and that's just not even worth joking about!

Last night, Jack and I finally went to see "The Social Network." While the flick was obviously targeted at the Gen X and Y age brackets, it was a very good story. Along the lines of "Good Will Hunting," the story narrated the probable story behind the creation of Facebook. The movie producers have never actually met Mark Zuckerberg (or so I read), but the producers' interpretation of Mark was convincing. The script was brilliant and I will be surprised if this film's screenplay isn't nominated for an Oscar. You know a movie is good if it provides you mental fodder...and dinner conversation for two meals!

So after our usual Sunday routine of mass/grocery shopping/brunch, we each settled in on our laptops and worked...All day. Gee, the exciting lives we lead. I'm really trying to *not* work on Sundays, but so far, that hasn't worked out so well!

Maybe next week!

What Really Matters

Last night's Bon Jovi concert was completely worth the investment and it provided a great opportunity to bond with fellow Chicagoans, eat well, kick back and relax, and log new memories.

We started the day by going in to work for a couple hours (hey, I had some stuff I needed to finish). Work isn't a bad drive from the Loop, so we hopped on the Dan Ryan and quickly parked the car in the Soldier Field lot. We didn't even think to bring tailgating paraphernalia; half of Chicago was out there tailgating at the tender hour of 3pm! Nonetheless, we know the pubs in South Loop and visited a couple for old time's sake, Grace O'Malley's and Weathermark Tavern.

After a couple 312's, we decided it was time to eat, so we grabbed the last available table at Zapatista's. Zapatista's has THE best Mexican good anywhere (possibly including Mexico). It makes any other Mexican restaurant seem a miserable imitation.

So we filled our bellies and walked back over to Soldier Field. Our seats were pretty high up, but we enjoyed a superb view of the entire stadium, the lake front, and Navy Pier. It was perfect. While the show was officially sold-out, we had a few empty seats around us so we could kick back and recline.

Kid Rock was first to play; his concert was interesting. That guy has an ego! He has maybe three well-known hits and after playing those, he covered a few hits from the '70's. He strutted around the stage and what's funny, is that several folks went to the concert for him and left before Bon Jovi took the stage!

Then with a grandiose opening befitting a 26-year veteran of rock music, Bon Jovi made his entrance. It wasn't the religious experience I had during the latest U2 concert, but the huge arena concert fits Bon Jovi well. Amazingly, his voice is the same as in the '80's. We bopped around to his classics, "Shot Through the Heart," "Blaze of Glory," and "Livin' on a Prayer." We were treated to Chicago magic when, during "Bad Medicine," the Navy Pier fireworks exploded in the sky. Navy Pier puts on a nightly 20-minute show and because of our stellar location, our line of vision included Bon Jovi, the Chicago skyline, and the firework displays.

Bon Jovi also played their newer hits, during which Jack and I would discuss our dreams and goals. It was ear-ringing loud, but we could still hear each other. We discussed what was ironically echoed in one of today's readings from church...about not seeking possessions for happiness, but rather, the things that really matter. Granted, it's possible to interpret "what really matters" through an individual's creed or believe system.

For us, it just means that money is a means. Possessions are a means. We want to spend our money on experiences and memory-building, not in acquiring things that won't hold meaning very long. However, the experiences hold value for your lifetime. Sitting in the upper deck of Soldier Field, enjoying Bon Jovi tunes from our adolescent years, meeting new people in the city, and having someone you love to share it all with, well, that's what really matters.

Okay, cheesey sentiments are over for the evening!

The Colors Test

I just clicked on this on Yahoo! news and took this test in about 20 seconds. It's fun and weirdly accurate for me.

The link: http://www.careerpath.com/career-tests/colorcareercounselor.aspx

My results: You're an ORGANIZER.

Keywords: Self-Control, Practical, Self-Contained, Orderly, Systematic, Precise, and Accurate.
(I'm not so sure about the self-control bit, but whatever!).

The first job it said I'd be hardwired for? Administrator!

2012

After a day of working and groaning while the Fighting Irish lost yet another game, Jack and I went to see "2012" last night. Admittedly, I like those disaster movies that, at the end of the ravaging action sequences, humanity bands together and fights for survival. Movies such as "Twister," "Armageddon," "Deep Impact," and "Day After Tomorrow" do just this. Sure, the special effects are great, you have a few white-knuckled moments as you internally will the characters to survive, and they usually emerge from the challenges with little more than dirt on their faces and torn shirts. I walk out of the movies feeling pretty uplifted.

Now, about "2012."

As usual, I have an opinion! It was a good movie. It was even a great movie. The special effects were truly amazing and I cannot believe how far computer generation has come in the last ten years. The scenes, commonly of earth's crust shifting via crevasses extending to the earth's core, depicted humans hanging onto crumbling buildings...humans in cars plunging down the gorges...millions of people running in droves from St. Peter's Square in Vatican City. The level of detail this movie attained was really neat.

But almost everyone died. I'm not spoiling the movie for you...with a movie of this caliber, you assume that almost everyone dies. I'll leave it at that!

While the special effects were great, every single moment that could have been a close call WAS a white-knuckled moment. Every single action sequence became the absolute worst scenario and the key characters survived by insane luck and cleaver timing. In one scene, there's a little dog that's trying to get on the ark and I found myself white-knuckled as I grabbed the theatre seat, hoping the little doggie survives. By that point, I was getting a little tired of every single moment being so intense. Again, I won't ruin the ending for you, but it does reaffirm humanity acting as one body to survive.

But I didn't feel the warm and fuzzy feeling as I left the theatre. I thought it was going to be one of those "wow, I should really live a good life in case the world does end unexpectedly" wake-up calls. Instead, I was stressed out, tired, and decided I really don't feel like ever visiting Yellowstone Park! So if you like disaster movies that are based on sheer fantasy and Mayan public policy, give it a try. But take an anti-anxiety drug before you go!

U2 Nation

It's been one hell of a long day. I had a bunch of scheduling problems (apparently, I needed to have cloned myself, but that would have been against the Ethical and Religious Directives!). But I found out my former campus minister from SMC works at St. Fozzie's, in the hospice unit. How incredibly coincidental is that?! So we had lunch and then she gave me a wonderful overview of hospice. Then I went downtown to meet a couple friends at the Wit Roof. It was so cool; it's a roof-top bar on the 27th floor with a few 20' long fireplaces in the center of tables. But still, it was pretentious. On the train ride, I reflected on my U2 experience this past weekend.

I've concluded that the concert was a bit like church. Now, Therese, please don't have me excommunicated, I'm not worshipping at the altar of Bono (as appealing as that is!). It's just that Bono's words stirred me. They rattled me. They made me realize something about the sense of belonging and the overall sense of community.

I enjoy going to church. It is a foundational part of my identity and aside from the whole salvation history and ecclesiastical involvement, I like being a part of something bigger than myself. When I go to mass, I am a part of the Church, a worldwide family spanning 2000+ years.

It's the same with being a Notre Dame fan. Even though this week's loss was a heart-breaker, being a Notre Dame fan makes me a part of another community. I'm a part of something larger, the Notre Dame family. We span generations and a hundred years. In regard to The Church and even athletic affiliations, there is such passion when you engage the rich mix of cultural and traditional elements of such institutions. Okay, so maybe the Church as a wee bit more culture and tradition than Notre Dame.

This weekend's U2 concert experience made me realize I'm a part of U2 Nation. There are an awful lot of people who subscribe to this family and celebrate the emotional rush of membership in this Nation. Check out these clips from the 12 Sept 2009 Soldier Field show...both songs made me feel this overwhelming sense of camaraderie with my nation of U2: Still Haven't Found and Pride. Sometimes it's a life-affirming experience, worth the $225, to engage in U2 Nation and rejoice our way through 24 anthems that current musicians cannot dream of creating.

I wonder...does U2 Nation have a flag? Can it be the cover of Achtung Baby?

I Remember When

I had a few meetings in the late morning today (including one with the palliative care nurse, the closest thing St. Fozzie's has to an ethicist) and lucked into an invitation from Sister Lourdes to join her for lunch at a local country club. Side note: I could really get used to the country club setting...what with the golf outing yesterday, a leisurely lunch today, yeah. It's the good life.

I ended up "hanging out" with Sister most of the afternoon and she's pretty spunky. I'll learn a lot from her. So anyway, our secretary runs in to tell us Farah Fawcett passed away. Not 20 minutes later, she runs in again to tell us that Michael Jackson was administered CPR on the way to UCLA Medical Center. Our first thoughts were, "What about HIPAA? Michael Jackson deserves privacy, too!"

Then I realized that Michael Jackson, if he needed CPR, he had probably coded. Sure enough, the news soon announced his death. It's a sad, sad day and my favorite thumping Chicago techno radio station played MJ all the way home...everything from 'Thriller' to 'Bad' to 'I'll Be There.'

[Call me insensitive, but if I were Farah Fawcett's soul, I'd be pretty pissed that my death was overshadowed by the death of the King of Pop![

It reminds me of when I was a freshman at Saint Mary's. During that first few weeks on campus that fall, Princess Di was killed in that car crash. That same weekend, Mother Theresa passed away. Just like I will always remember I was a frosh at Saint Mary's when those two wonderful women passed on, I will remember I was shootin' the breeze with Sister Lourdes at St. Fozzie's when Farah and Michael passed on. May God bless them all.

Mosaic

One of my blogger friends tagged me with this ...Not that the photos that popped up always made sense, but whatever. Also, some Flickr folks have opted out of the Mosaic thing so you might have to rebuild in order to get a full mosaic.

Instructions: Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search. Using only the first page, pick an image. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into fd’s Mosaic Maker. Save the image and post it.

1. What is your first name? Dorrie

2. What is your favorite candy? Cadbury Eggs

3. What is your favorite color? turquoise
4. Favorite drink? coffee
5. Dream vacation? Bora Bora
6. Favorite hobby? being lazy (don't get to do that too often)

7. When you were a child, what did you want to be when you grew up? an artist
8. What do you love most in life? God
9. One word to describe you? driven