Suzi (k00kaburra) wrote,

Funeral for Kitty's cousin, Mimi

The cousin of one of my oldest friends (Kitty) passed away on April 30th, and her funeral service was today. I drove up to San Mateo to pick Bandaid up (the three of us go back to junior high) at eight in the morning. We managed to make it to the service on time, if you run on Asian time. It was scheduled for 9:30, we got there at 9:35. However, in spite of the fact that the funeral was conducted in Vietnamese, they were not running late and as a result we missed half the ceremony. I felt bad, but did I mention the ceremony wasn't in English? Too bad the service wasn't in Latin...I could probably have pieced together what was going on. But Vietnamese is so foreign from English that I couldn't make heads or tails of what was happening. At one point he kept saying 'Maria' over and over again, so I thought maybe he was saying the 'Hail Mary' prayer, but when I asked Kitty later she said 'Maria' was her cousin's Catholic name.

The service ended at 10:30 and the burial wasn't scheduled 'til 12:30, so I thought Bandaid and I had a little bit of time to kill. We went to Oakridge Mall, got some lunch, and then headed up to the cemetery, which was up in Los Altos. Turns out that the burial service hadn't waited - the minute the funeral procession got up there, they started. By the time we showed up, the service was over and everyone was standing around eating pastries.
Le sigh. Clearly, my decision-making skills need work.

I'm probably a creep for saying it, but I like graveyards. I think they're peaceful. The ashes of my grandparents on my dad's side will be interred in Arlington. I think my mom's parents' ashes are still in my uncle's house in San Francisco. Maybe I'd feel differently about cemeteries if I actually had family buried in one. But like I said, I like 'em. I had work at 5, and Kitty's family had plans for the evening (a candlelit vigil for the cousin) so after an hour or so of hanging out with Kitty near the grave we headed home.

Weird. I'm twenty-five years old and this is only the second funeral I've attended. No, third. Not really that many, all things considered.


After dropping Bandaid off at her house, I came into work at RHA and it was...interesting.

There had been two events scheduled for the day, one from 10am-3pm (Party #1) and another from 5pm-9pm (Party #2). The lady hosting Party #2 hadn't scheduled any time for set-up preparation, and was upset that she couldn't come in two hours early to set up. I had talked to her several times in the month leading up to the party, reminding her that if she says she starts at 5pm we don't expect to see her until 5pm, and if she knew she'd need extra time to set up she should have scheduled it. Party #1 should end on time, I figured, but if she runs over a little late that's OK. That's why we schedule a two-hour gap between engagements to ensure everything runs smoothly.

But of course it didn't work out that way. Apparently, right at 3pm Party #2's hostess shows up and starts setting up her event, even though Party #1 was just starting to wrap up. She started moving furniture around, cooking in the kitchen, etc, and apparently was incredibly rude in the process. I wasn't there, thankfully, but my co-worker had to deal with the two women and apparently it was practically a catfight, with both women promising to write nasty letters to the management about each other.

I was completely shocked because Party #2's hostess is usually a very sweet lady. I had no idea she'd go barging in at the tail end of someone else's party. I mean, talk about tacky and rude. But people are just so unpredictable...

She fed me, so I feel like I shouldn't complain too much. Gave me a big ol' heaping plate of Mexican food and a fat piece of fresh blackberry pie. Feed me and I'll do whatever you want.
Tags: death, funeral, rha

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