Taking deep, slow breaths…
Kasia September 22nd, 2008
As my post last night apprised you, we made it home safely. Deo gratias!
En route, we stopped at my dad’s house to drop off the GPS unit he’d lent us for the trip. (That thing was an absolute lifesaver. Canuck and I were so enamored of it that we’re going to register for one, just as soon as he can do the research on which one we want.) More on the stop at my dad’s later. It’s too much to tangle with right now.
For a little review of the weekend…
Thursday was reasonably uneventful. After being off half of Tuesday and all of Wednesday with a bad cold, I knew I had to go in for at least half of Thursday, if for no other reason than to convince myself that I wasn’t a Dreadful Employee for daring to get sick the same week I’d planned to take two days off for an out-of-town wedding. So I went in for the morning, picked up the Canuck from his noon train, and came back to work until 1:30. Then we booked over to my house so I could finish packing, went and got some dinner, and I dropped him off at Starbucks to wait out my two back-to-back ENDOW classes (Mulieris Dignitatem and Edith Stein). He got bored about halfway through and decided to walk up to the church, which he thought was less than a mile away. It isn’t…but he survived the walk in good cheer. 
Then we headed for Kalamazoo. All things considered, that leg of the drive was pretty uneventful, though because of construction it did take us a little longer than we’d planned to complete it. Got to Red Roof K’zoo a little before midnight (probably about 11:45), got checked in and settled, and tried to sleep; then took off the next morning for Chicagoland.
First, I would like to say that if the north stretches along 94 and 80/90 are any indication, Indiana is up there with Jersey for the rudest drivers in the country. I didn’t remember that from my previous trips to Chicago, but then again, I’ve only been the driver along that stretch a few times. I don’t remember anywhere near this level of rudeness when I went to Valparaiso to visit my friend at law school there, but that chunk of road had some seriously obnoxious jerks. So Indiana: you’re on notice!
Then we took 294 up to go get checked in at the hotel, but since it was still quite early (not even noon Central time), we decided to stop off at Marytown in Libertyville and visit the national shrine of St. Maximilian Kolbe. All I can say is: gorgeous church, but you can tell that the Franciscans’ charism isn’t hospitality. (Ahem.)
Off to McHenry after that to check in…and I had the silly thought of trying to take a nap. You know, since I’d been in and out of tears all day?
I had only been laying down for a few minutes when the drilling started.
So OK - no nap. Instead, we went across the parking lot to Dunnhill’s to get a late lunch and some peace and quiet.
Wow - already almost time to get to the church for the rehearsal! So off we toddled to Grayslake. Apart from the rehearsal being conducted on what I will call “Southern European Standard Time” (the groom in particular is not noted for his punctuality, and his trip was compounded by the fact that he accidentally backed into his future sister-in-law’s car on the way out), it was pretty uneventful…though by the end I was fully prepared to respond to the priest’s perpetual confusion about my status as a “groomsmaid” by saying “Yes, Father, the affront to Mulieris Dignitatem.”
Rehearsal dinner was in Mundelein, then back again to McHenry to try to sleep (and my post of Friday night). By Saturday morning, I was a wreck. Then my beloved called the hotel in Glenview (our Saturday hotel) one more time to see about an early check-in…
HALLELUJAH!!!
Oh, mercy! You do not even know how relieved I was to hear that we could check in at noon!
Off then to Buffalo Grove for my hair appointment, then lunch at IHOP, and moving along to Glenview to check in…back up to Grayslake for the wedding (with only a short detour to get change for the unexpected toll road), and out to Spring Grove for the reception.
Kit, we passed through Palatine several times, and it’s funny you mentioned it - we had just decided it must be the center of the Chicagoland universe, because last time we visited Chicago we stayed in Palatine, and this time we drove through it about half a dozen times…we’re pretty much figuring that if we ever move to Chicago we will end up living in Palatine, just because it seems to be the hub of the suburban universe there. :-p
I cannot tell you how good it felt to go to bed Saturday night.
We changed our Sunday plans about a dozen times all told, but finally decided to drive home and go to an evening Mass on our side of town. Then the stop at my dad’s happened…and then I was really tired…so yeah. First time since I entered the Church that I’ve completely missed Sunday Mass. Come to think of it, only the second time since I started RCIA…
Post on my visit with my dad to come shortly…lunch is over and I need to earn my keep. And commentary on the actual wedding, and how I feel about one of my dearest friends being married, will come thereafter.
I wouldn’t call Jersey drivers rude. Self-centered and unyielding, yes. But rudeness implies they actually recognize your presence, which they don’t.
Glad you got home safely!
Hey - we like our traffic like we like our football…bone-cracking with lots of personal fouls.
That area of Palatine/Arlington Heights/Rolling Meadows is a great place to live! Close, but not too close to the city and to O’Hare, convenient to all the expressways and thus the world…I miss it and often wish we’d gone with Plan B instead of coming to NY (Plan A) after the Beloved retired from the USMC. As long as you’re in the right HS district for the Clamucks (<–hee!) to get edumacated (if you aren’t homeschooling) there’s not a better place to raise your family.
That’s pretty funny, especially since our Chicagoland branch of the family has always contended that “Detroiters drive like they have no reason to live.”
TBS
There are two rules to driving in Detroit: (1) Drive as far as possible in the “soon-to-be-merged” lane in a construction zone before actually merging (and every xpressway is a construction zone); and (2) You’re never the last person through a yellow light. Beyond that, we’re a rather normal bunch.
Kasia - pleasure to *meet* a fellow metro Detroiter!