It should be a National Holiday*

(with all due deference to NewMexiKen’s decision that today *isn’t* a candidate for National Holiday. Damn Domenici for busting up my day!)

And on this day, a Karen was born, and it was good.

Until she grew up a little and her family would beg to differ…

So when I was little, my mom was always willing to make whatever cake or pie the birthday kid wanted. I usually chose a cake, a chocolate chip cake. My mom would whip it up out of a box and it was oh so yuuuum. It felt special to have the cake made just for me.

In honor of the kindness my mother showed me all those years, I decided to make my own cake for myself this year.

Mom, you’ll note my layer cake is about as even as all the ones you and I made over the years.

Though in my defense, The Good Man and I have discovered our home on a hill built in the early 1940’s isn’t exactly level anymore. Doors don’t stay open (or closed, depending) and my two layer of cake came out of the oven looking less like a square and more like a right-angled triangle. Can one work a Pythagorean theorem on a cake?

But as I’ve learned over the years, frosting can make up for a multitude of sins. And add a few too.

Last night on Birthday Eve, I endulged in a slab of cake. Not a piece, a slab. And it was gooooooood. Chocolate with vanilla frosting. Yes please!

And I am planning to celebrate even more. I’ve shaken off the birthday blues and enjoying the day. I even scored a few presents at work. How ’bout that!

Looking forward to the surprises The Good Man has in store.

¡Feliz Cumpleaños para ME!

_______________________________

Oh, an update for the folks who have asked about the progress of Plastic Surgery Kitty.

She’s healing really well.

Here’s a photo from this morning:

The last of the scab came off last night and the wound has healed nicely, is pink and healthy. Looks like she’s come through it just fine! Much better photo than the last one I posted, huh?

New kid on the bus

So as documented here in these pages, I’m a commuter, taking a combo of CalTrain and shuttle bus to get to work each day.

With the move to the new office location this week, I’ve been driving. I’ve had to haul things back and forth and that made it necessary.

Today was my first go at taking CalTrain which meant I needed to ride a different shuttle bus to get to my new location in the Silicon Valley back forty.

I felt insecure last night knowing I had to learn a new route. I knew the kids on the old bus. We had our deal. We knew who sat where.

What would they be like on the new bus? Would they steal my lunch money? Would I have to sit next to nose picker guy (cuz no one else will)? Would I get beat up? Mocked? I just didn’t know what new challenges awaited me.

So my train arrived at the station this morning, I stumbled off, backpack hiked up on my shoulders, nervous. There are a LOT of buses there waiting on kids like me. All the local businesses are making it easier for employees to commute.

I wandered around, looking for not easy to read signs on the variety of buses, big and small. I did finally see the bus I needed, a little bitty bus (insert all short bus jokes here) and I climbed on. I did a quick survey of the crowd and realized most of the people on the bus were mainly the test engineers that moved over to the boondocks about three months ago.

Engineers! These are my people!!!

I wasn’t the nerdy kid, suddenly I was COOL! I stood a little taller and swaggered to the only open seat at the back of the bus and sat down confidently.

But…

Do you know what sucks? Sitting in the last seat at the back of the bus. It has the most sway. I was literally popped up out of my seat each time the driver hit a bump. I arrived at work a little green in the gills, but I arrived. Lunch money still in my pocket. Feeling a little more confident.

Ok. What’s next? I feel like I can take on the world today!

Hot or not?

Yes, I think hot.

Been getting a lot of compliments today at work about my outfit.

Well, one aspect of my outfit. My boots. They rock.

So why am I blogging about this?

Well. You see, I bought these little beauties about three months ago. I brought them home and quickly tried them on to show The Good Man. He looked at them, then gave me that sort of look you get when you sniff the milk carton well past its expiry.

He didn’t like them. Said I looked like a CHP Officer (and not in a good way).

And he has REALLY good taste in clothes, so I tend to listen to him.

With sadness, I put them away in my closet. They were so cool. I didn’t want to take them back, but I didn’t think I’d wear them if they give my beloved “that look” on his face.

Over the months I keep seeing cute little gals wearing same or similar kicks, and I keep thinking, “I have some of those…”

Something snapped over the weekend and I decided, “yes, I will wear them, curdled milk face or not.”

This morning I pulled them out from the closet depths, paired them with a fave springtime skirt and an appropriate top.

And as my love and I walked to the CalTrain station, he said, “Hey, I really like those boots”.

Umm hmm.

“I take you in sickness and in health, in odd fashion choices and when you rock the runway…” Can I get an I do on those vows?

Anyhow, here are the kicks in question:

Buy me some peanuts and crack’er jack!

It is well documented that I am a HUGE fan of baseball. I am also a huge San Francisco Giants baseball fan.

Pick up any sports page in the past few years and you will know that my poor Giants have fallen on hard times. The once mighty team is barely a squeak on the baseball radar.

It’s tough. The big boys are off to a rousing 3-6 start. Starting off the season at the bottom of the standings, cellar dwelling has become the standard. That’s where they finished up last year.

I used to go to a lot of games with a good friend of mine. She had season seats up at SBC Park and it was a lot of fun. We have bombed out on CalTrain into the summer night to watch our team plenty of times. Hell, I even wrote a book about it.

A year ago, my friend gave up her season seats at the big club. Health issues and rising seat costs along with baseball depression at the hands of a struggling team forced her decision.

She invested that year in season seats for the Single A affiliate, San Jose Giants. It’s a little cheaper and a lot closer to home.

She is also a “host family” for a player. This is her third year being “mom” to a young player who makes max about $10k a year and needs a rent free place to stay for the season. It makes her happy. She gets to cluck over a twenty something kid, he gets to eat well and they both get to talk baseball with someone who really understands.

This year my friend approached me about her “grand plan” to buy up a whole row of seats in the section she likes at Muni Stadium. It is only five seats, but she began recruiting friends to pitch in on the seats in exchange for access to games. It makes her most happy to go to games surrounded by friends and family. So she did such good a sell job, I wrote her a check.

Tonight The Good Man and I get to go to the game as “season ticket holders” along with my good friend and bunch of other fun folks.

There is a whole different vibe in Single A ball. The players are young and hungry. They play for meal money and not much more. They *want* it. Humility is high. There are audience games between innings. The beers are only $3. Half price when the designated “beer batter” on the opposing team strikes out.

Tonight is the home opener for the San Jose Giants, last year’s California League Champions.

Oh, did I mention they are 5-2 so far?

Yeah. Things are looking good in the minor league.

Photo by Karen Fayeth

Inauspicious start to the week

As mentioned before in these pages before, I have become a full blown commuter, taking a train and shuttle bus to get to and from work.

It’s one of those “when it works, it works great” type of deals. To be honest, the whole thing usually just works. Easy. Since my company subsidizes the cost of using commute alternatives, I can ease my pocketbook from the pinch of $4 gas.

However, this morning was one of those days where it didn’t work. Oh, all seemed fine. I walked to the station. The train arrived on time. I climbed on. Hey, I even got a good seat!

Then I overhead the conductor on his cell phone. “Hit, huh? At Menlo Park? Ok. Delays of up to an hour. Ok, I’ll make the announcement.”

Ruh rho.

Yup. The train in front of us hit a pedestrian. And since dancing with a train never goes well, the whole operation had to come to a halt.

My train stopped at a station that was just far enough from both home and work as to be troubling. The conductor told us to get off and figure out what bus to use or whatever. Ugh.

With a cell phone on the last vapors of battery charge, I called a cab and paid an inordinate amount of cash to make it in to work about an hour late.

*sigh* All’s well that ends well.

In other, better, news, I’m happy to see in the ABQjournal that it’s official as of today, the New Mexico quarter is OUT. If you are in Santa Fe, there’s even a little ceremony.

Yay! I can hardly wait to have one in my hand! W00t!

We’re going big time, Oh Fair New Mexico!