I really hate it when people pull rank. Working at the Alumni Center, which houses both the Alumni Association and the Office of Development, has turned out to be a lot more complex than I realized. Everyone's incredibly nice and super gung-ho about Stanford...but I've learned that there's a whole lot of something going on below the surface. You never know when the sheep is going to turn into a wolf with a big ol' gun behind his back.

Assuming that somebody is a regular person around here is very very dangerous.

Take Big Game Saturday. For weeks, we had been having meetings to discuss what we'd do with the Center. How long should we be open? Do we need to have food? What about music? Should we let people see the whole place, or close access to certain parts? This last question was a big deal, and after much discussion, we decided to open most of the place to the public but leave the conference center closed. Who wants to see a conference room when there's a football game going on?

So, Saturday finally arrives, and I'm working the place. I happen to be standing by the conference center when a woman with a small group of people approaches me, wearing baseball caps and Stanford fan gear.

"Is that area open?"
"No," I say politely. "Unfortunately it's not."
"Well, can you open it? I'd like to take a look."

What part of NO did she not understand?

"I'm sorry, but I really can't. There's not really anything interesting back there anyway." [uh-oh...]
"WELL, I am a major donor, my conference room is back there, and I want to see it. I am on the Board of Trustees, on the Board of the Association, and I expect you to open this door."

I'm pretty sure I was bleeding from the multiple places she bit me. I felt about as big as a peanut and proceeded to apologize and unlock the door. This is what I get for doing my job. I should have known - considering who I share office space with, politics inevitably takes on a whole different meaning.

This was not the first or only only time I got the rug yanked out from under me, either. It's already happened more than once...and I'm sure it will happen again.

Tom, his friend, Felix, and I went last night to see U2 in concert. They were absolutely amazing. Amazing. I've also never been to a concert of that size before. There were about 60,000 people at the sold out concert. I was simply stunned at the sheer masses of bodies, all screaming and waving their arms. And the music...it was so good. I had the best time and have subsequently added U2 to my small groups of concerts that I would actually consider attending. (I own a lot of variety on CD's, but let's just all admit that not every group can pull off a live performance.)

Afterwards, we went with a couple friends to our favorite late night Korean roast chicken joint. They make the best chicken in the world, but the place is a total dive and full of Cal students.

Which reminds me - Big Game is tomorrow. I've been to almost every Big Game since freshman year, but that's usually the only football game I attend. I'm not a big sports-watcher kind of girl. This year, however, is a whole different deal because I work for the Alumni Association. Life is RAH, RAH, BEAT CAL, GO STANFORD. So I'm getting to work tomorrow at 7:30am. That's right on a Saturday.

What sane person would do that? You just have to understand how deep the feelings run. All you need to do is read this, and you'll see what I'm talking about.

This weekend was very nice. Felix and I hung out with friends Friday night and Saturday, and we had a "date day" in San Francisco on Sunday. It's funny, but I discovered all kinds of things about myself after I met and started dating Felix. Before, I would have laughed in your face if you'd suggested that we do just about anything vaguely athletic. I mean, I ski, rollerblade, and do a few other random things, but my favorite activities tend to be...well, not active. Like reading. Man, put me in front of a good book, and I won't even know that you're there (which Felix has experienced). I've also had panic attacks when I thought my vcr didn't record ER properly (thank god for TiVo).

Felix, however, is a different sort of creature. When I first met him, he often reminisced about the good ol' days in high school, when they'd go on these wilderness expeditions and backpacking trips. Meanwhile, I'd never even been to camp, much less roughed a night in a tent. It was interesting hearing his stories, but we didn't really do much because college was just too busy.

Then, we graduated, and this secret outdoorsy and physically active side of Felix went nuts. I found myself hiking in the foothills, tromping through Yosemite, kayaking in Monterey, and biking around the Peninsula. Much to my surprise, I actually had fun. I also discovered how ridiculously stubborn I can be. We went on my first backpacking trip in Yosemite a few years ago; it was a three-day hike through elevated and beautiful terrain. It didn't take long before my feet and back were just killing me, and I was so grouchy, I was hardly speaking. But, I absolutely refused to stop hiking. I just stared at the ground and kept going and going and going, until Felix finally said that we'd reached our camp destination. Then I promptly stopped and burst into tears. Despite the lack of showers, swarms of bugs, and altitude sickness, I made it through, and I had enough fun that we've been on several backpacking trips since. Who knew that someone who's squeamish about going outside barefoot could learn to poop in the woods? I even own my own backpack!

At some point, however, I realized that we were only doing active activities. I enjoyed expanding my horizons, but the lack of more "Kathy things" was really starting to bug me. So, Felix and I have had many a conversation about balance; I love doing stuff that he plans and wants to do, but I gotta have stuff that I plan and want to do, too. We're trying to mix it up more, and although I think it'll sometimes still be a challenge to turn Felix's focused mind in an occasionally different direction, it's definitely a good work in progress.

Sunday in San Francisco was one of those progressive moments. We had lunch with Tom, saw the Ansel Adams exhibit at the SFMOMA, rode the cable cars, and had dinner at a restaurant we hadn't been to in years. It was a lot of fun for both of us. I've just gotta keep on my toes and make sure I plan more stuff like that.

Cars are such a mystery to me. As far as I'm concerned, they're just metal contraptions that get you from point A to point B. As a result of my ignorance, however, I find myself in the most degrading of stereotypical categories - women who know nothing about cars. That's right. I go to Jiffy Lube and am total prey to their evil and manipulative ways. The mechanic will come in with a grim look on his face, wave my dirty air filter in the air, and drip some brownish black fluids on his clipboard, all signs of pending automotive disaster. So, I anxiously and resignedly fork over my money, hoping that my poor car will survive until its next oil change.

Who knew I was being victimized?! Well, Felix, of course. Shortly after we started dating, I needed to go in for another dreaded oil change. I complained bitterly to him about how expensive my car was to maintain. Felix took one look at my thick file of receipts and repair records and almost had an apoplexy; he was SO mad.

So that's how I found out I was being ripped off.

My behavior, however, didn't change overnight. When you know nothing about cars, it's hard not to fall under the sway of convincing and terrifying mechanics. Each time, Felix would give me a pep talk, and I'd think yeah, that's right! No one's going to abuse me this time! Grrr, I'd get mad and ready and...go and buy a new air filter and get some special cleaning fluid injected into my transmission. Sigh.

Eventually, I found a method that worked. Although I have an atrocious temper when I'm hungry or tired (just ask my family), I'm really a wimp under day-to-day circumstances. Instead of trying to facedown Jiffy Lube on my own, I now cower behind the husband or brother. I beg off by telling them that I can't make decisions on anything other than a simple oil change, since my car is actually Felix's or Tom's or some other family member's. And I'm a great liar - this pathetic excuse works every time.

I know, I know, it's a terrible thing to be a weak woman. And I'm really quite strong-minded and willful in other areas of my life. Just not with my car. If Felix is actually with me, I don't even go up to the customer counter. I just let him handle everything. Isn't that one of the pluses of being married, being able to play on each other's strengths?

One of these days, I'm going to beef up my automotive skills and drive confidently to my maintenance and repair appointments. In the meantime, my car gets me from Point A to Point B...which is all I need to be happy.

We went to a wedding this weekend, and one of the speakers pointed out that there will inevitably be times in your life when you look at your spouse and think, "Who are you?" Everyone laughed, especially the married folks. I totally think it's true; Felix is my bestest and favoritest friend and companion in the world, but sometimes, he can be a complete enigma. Men and women just move through the world with different minds, using different rules. In fact, here are some insights into the scary realm of men that a friend e-mailed me. True? Not true? I'll leave that up to you to decide. I will say, however, that my personal favorite is the one regarding conduct in the men's bathroom. I am always asking Felix about what goes on in there; people say that women's bathroom habits are strange and interesting, but I think men are MUCH more fascinating.

1. Any man who brings a camera to a bachelor party may be legally killed and eaten by his fellow partygoers.

2. Under no circumstances may two men share an umbrella.

3. If you've known a guy for more than 24 hours, his sister is off limits forever, unless you actually marry her.

4. Bitching about the brand of free beer in a buddy's fridge is forbidden. Gripe at will if the temperature is unsuitable.

5. On a road trip, the strongest bladder determines pit stops, not the weakest.

6. While your girlfriend must bond with your buddies' girlfriends within 30 minutes of meeting them, you are not required to make nice with her gal pals' significant other--- low level sports bonding is all the law requires (sorry ladies, it's called a double standard because it's twice as true).

7. When stumbling upon other guys watching a sporting event, you may always ask the score of the game in progress, but you may never ask who's playing.

8. Never flatulate in front of a woman unless she's already your girlfriend. If you trap a woman's head under the covers for the purpose of flatulent entertainment, she's officially your girlfriend.

9. It is permissible to quaff a fruity chick drink only when you're sunning on a tropical beach....and it's delivered by a topless supermodel...and it's free.

10. Only in situations of moral and/or ass peril are you allowed to kick another guy in the family jewels.

11. Unless you're in prison, never fight naked.

12. Friends don't let friends wear Speedos. Ever. Issue closed.

13. If a man's zipper is down, that's his problem---you didn't see nothin'.

14. Women who claim the "love to watch sports" must be treated as spies until they demonstrate knowledge of the game and the ability to pick a buffalo wing clean.

15. You must offer heartfelt and public condolences over the death of a girlfriend's cat, even if it was you who secretly set it on fire and threw it into a ceiling fan.

16. Never hesitate to reach for the last beer or the last slice of pizza, but not both. That's just plain mean.

17. Never talk to a man in a bathroom unless you are on equal footing: both urinating, both waiting in line, etc. For all other situations, an almost imperceptible nod is all the conversation you need.

18. You cannot rat out a coworker who shows up at work with a massive hangover. You may however, hide the aspirin, smear his chair with limburger cheese, turn the brightness dial all the way down so he thinks his monitor is broken, and have him paged over the loudspeaker every seven minutes.

Everyone's having babies. A couple years ago, it was everyone getting married...and actually, a lot of people are still getting married. But, we've definitely moved onto THE NEXT STAGE. Babies.

It's a little frightening to have so many friends getting pregnant. On the one hand, it raises all the "aww...a baby...I want one!" kind of feelings, but on the other hand, I still feel like a kid. Can you have a kid when you are a kid? Fortunately, I don't really feel too much pressure from anyone right now, so I can still stick to the Kathy Chi Master Plan. What's that, you ask? Well, do you remember playing M.A.S.H. when you were little? Not the tv show; the game, as in Mansion, Apartment, Shack, House. We'd play and play, gleefully discovering what laid ahead in our futures. Would I be rich? How many children would I have? What kind of car would I drive? Every detail would get scribbled down and laughed over, set in stone until the next time we played.

It was while I played M.A.S.H. that I came up with my Master Plan. I'd grow up, go to a great college, meet a great guy, get married when I was 25, buy a lovely home, and have my first child when I was 30. Well, now that I'm actually mostly "grown up," I'm really rather surprised to see that life is pretty much on track. Great college - check. Great guy - check (I absolutely adore Felix). Married at 25 - check. Lovely home - not what my 10-year-old self had in mind, but I love it, so check. First child...hmmm. Turning 30 seems to be approaching both a bit faster and a bit slower than I expected, and I find myself in a tug-of-war with myself. Start a family now...later...much later...no, now...you get the picture.

Fortunately, the Plan gives me the leeway to waffle for another year or so before I start to fall behind. In the meantime, I'm having lunch next week with my college friend I-Han and her 9-month old daughter Mia, and tomorrow, I'm going to visit another college friend Lisa in the hospital. She just gave birth to her first child - Alan Michael. Got any suggestions for baby names? I might as well start thinking about it.