Category: luck

Sheepish

Owing to my good Catholic upbringing, it takes very little to toss me to the throes of guilt.

And I have it, baby! Catholic guilt, that is.

And owing to my good Catholic upbringing (tho currently quite non-practicing), confession is good for the soul, right?

Here it is:

Yesterday…I got a speeding ticket. *gasp!*

Yep, I’ve been having crap commutes lately. Yesterday morning my thirty-minute commute took seventy. The night before, stop and go and stop and go and…well, you get the idea.

So I took off early yesterday to 1) avoid the commute and 2) spend more time with The Cute Boy™. So gleeful was I that I guess I put my leaden foot a little too hard on the gas. I say “I guess” because I don’t know for sure, but I do know that a CHP pulled my arse over (and they are NOT as cool as Ponch and John, let me tell you).

The officer glared at me, I guess he has to. God knows what they come up on during traffic stops. He took my license, my registration, my insurance card and wrote up a ticket.

I’ve never gotten a ticket in California. I guess ten years is a pretty good run, eh? My last ticket was in 1994 in New Mexico. I glanced at the ticket to see how much I’d have to pay. It doesn’t work quite that easy here, you get a ticket with a “notice to appear” then I guess they send you a letter where you can either pay some money or go to court.

The nice CHP gentleman did not say he used a radar, so I *could* try to go to court to fight it. A quick Google of the officer’s name turned up that he’s a quite well respected member of the force, and had a nice write up in a local paper for his hard work.

Yeah, I don’t think I’d stand a chance in court.

I found the California fine schedule online. Let’s just say the fine is ouch-worthy. I shall pay the fine and be a lot more cautious about the needle on the ol’ speedometer.

Ok, I guess today I’ll go do an act of contrition or something to help me find my penance (in addition to the pain of writing a check to a state that already way overtaxes me).

My first act of penance was to ride CalTrain to work……..I gave myself a vehicular time out.

Do you think Governor Arnold will grant me absolution?

The silver lining is maybe riding the commuter rail will give me some good blogging ideas……

Edit: Oh no! It’s a conspiracy! The Man trying to bring down the displaced New Mexicans!!!

(image via)

The Results Are In

It’s that time of year again. Chile roasting outside grocery stores. Hot air balloons hanging in the sky. Frosty nights and crunchy leaves.

And at work, that annual tradition known as performance reviews.

Now, I hate performance reviews. I know we have to. It’s a whole human resources thang. I get it. But I hate them. I hate giving them. I hate receiving mine. I just hate the whole process.

I got them done for my staff a couple weeks back. Got them done without incident, which was nice. It helped I had some new folks that were too new to review, so I was able to struggle through the few I had and get them completed.

My Lady Boss, on the other hand, has an inordinate amount of employees so it’s taken her longer. Yesterday was the last day to get ’em done, and we squeaked it in under the wire.

As usual, I walked in knowing I worked my arse off this year, and yet was scared. This happens every year. I somehow always think there’s something I’m missing. Something I failed to do. Something I did wrong and didn’t know it. So with shaking legs I sat down and took my medicine.

Like usual, it was fine. She had many nice things to say. My Lady Boss is fairly new to the department and I still don’t quite have a read on her, but now I got my report card. Now I know the teacher thinks I’m doing ok. (The best compliment was regarding the kick ass job my team did this year. They did all the work and it’s not fair I get the credit, but I’m proud as hell of each and every one of them.)

She had a couple items for “development” that were spot on, and I appreciate her feedback. She then would up the review by reminding me that in 2008 I shouldn’t argue so vocally and vehemently with (her boss) my Vice President. (I actually did this. I was angry. It was deserved. I don’t regret it. But her point was well taken. I *could* have presented my case a bit better…..)

I got a better than average rating and a slightly better than average raise. However, “slightly better than average” at this company means “just slightly above the CPI”. It’s true, I checked. But you know what? I’ll take it. My friend who also works here got NO raise. Yep. Zip, zero, zilch, nada. And he worked hard this year. So my meager increase is something. With that, I’ll get back to work and rest easy for another year, at least on that front.

Ever forward, back into battle.

Hey, now that’s cool!

It’s no secret I’m a bit of a baseball fan. My team’s season ended in a blaze of humiliation, some 18 games out of first place. To make it worse, two teams from our division, the Arizona Diamondbacks and the Colorado Rockies made to the post season.

Oh the pain of watching the competition extend their season.

Been having a hard time deciding who to root for in post-season games. I think I’m loving the under-dog, whooda-thunkit magic season of the Rockies. So in the NL, they are my team (not a tough decision given the lightening in a bottle they have working), especially after rolling over the Diamondbacks in four straight games.

In the AL, it’s harder to decide. I mean, I like the Indians, they are a ne’er do well and know the pain, like my beloved Giants, of going to the World Series and coming home empty handed. I have a good friend who is from Cleveland so out of respect to her, I’ve been mostly cheering on the Indians. However, in previous years, I’ve been a post-season Red Sox fan. So I guess all this is by way of saying I’m waffling…..

In today’s ABQjournal I read an interesting article that I’m now taking into account while sitting on the AL fence.

While the young man mentioned in the article, Jacoby Ellsbury, isn’t a New Mexico native (cuz then I’d be off the fence and on his side in heartbeat), he does have ties to New Mexico.

Plus I just think it’s pretty damn cool that he’s the first Native American of Navajo descent to play in the majors. He was called up to Boston in August when Coco Crisp went out with an injury and so wowed critics and fans that Francona added him to the 40-man roster in September. Now in his first year in the bigs, he’s playing on a post-season team trying to get to the World Series. He’s been praised for both his speed and enthusiasm and is a pretty good hitter.

Damn, that rocks. Gonna have to squint at the screen a little more now to get a look at this up-and-comer. Maybe he can log some playing time in the ALCS and I’ll just have to root for him.

I always did love a story of someone living the dream.

The times, they are a changin’

Just because it’s time, almost over due, doesn’t mean there isn’t some sense of disbelief that an era is over.

According to the ABQjournal, Senator Pete Domenici will announce his retirement later today. He has been Senator for 36 years, just a few years less than my lifetime. Growing up in New Mexico, Domenici’s name was always in the news. He went from a “who is that” to a fairly powerful guy on Capitol Hill. I was always happy for a New Mexico guy to make good, make a name, so people knew we had smart folks from New Mexico over there.

I know lately he’s fallen out of favor for a variety of misdeeds. I’m not much of a political person, honestly. I can’t talk articulately about Domenici’s career, the high points, the low points. I’ll leave more of that to my friends Avelino at his Live From Silver City blog and of course former Mayor of Albuquerque Jim Baca at his Only in New Mexico blog.

My lament today is how much things in my world seem to be changing. Today we have a lunch to see off one of my best and favorite employees. She’s moving on to a great job and we’re all really happy for her. It’s a big blow to our team. But change must happen.

There are a lot of huge changes going on in my personal life too, most changes for the better, but changes nonetheless.

My “woo woo” teachers would say that’s the hallmark of Fall. The days shorten up, the ground goes cold. Circle of life. Death and rebirth. All of that.

Give me time, I’ll be philosophical later. For today I’m just sad. Ok, not that I’m all broke up about Domenici leaving office, just the huge change it brings (just skeered as hell that Wilson might get that seat).

I remember my days working at Sandia where we called him “Saint Pete” because he was always able to finagle funds to keep Sandia rolling, despite all the protests to reduce funding to the nuclear labs. How far he’s fallen…

Anyhow, I guess it’s owing to my sign of Taurus that change is troublesome. I’ll follow my family tradition and worry myself sick about it. Then, I’ll rebound, get perspective, and be fine.

I’m always fine, eventually.

*sigh*

Well…off to the going away lunch…..

It’s going away, isn’t it?

My friend. My companion. That comfort at the end of a long day’s work, driving home, watching the sun go down, laughing, cheering, listening. It’s leaving me again, just as the world turns cold. It always leaves me just when the sun starts setting sooner, when the chill rolls in, when the leaves turn. Just when I need it the most, it’s gone.

My old friend and joy, baseball, is leaving me again this weekend.

The San Francisco Giants played their last home game of 2007 last night, made all the more bittersweet as, after fifteen crazy years, it was the last game Barry Bonds will play in a Giants uniform.

It was year of agony and ecstasy.

Ecstasy: The San Jose Giants, the Minor League Single A affiliate, and a group of young ‘uns near and dear to my heart performed a miracle. Coming on strong in the first half and falling off hard in the second half, they still earned their way into the playoffs and prevailed. They are the 2007 California League Champions. They played an amazing post season and just brutalized Lake Elsinore in game 5, the deciding game. I get goose bumps just thinking about it. This was a hard working team of guys who learned how to win, and a tip of the cap to manager Lenn Sakata for taking yet another team to the post season.

Agony: Their big brothers to the North, however, didn’t fare so well. With three games left, they’ve lost 89 games and are a gut-turning 18.5 games out of first place.

This was the season that Bonds broke the all-time homerun record, walloping 756 over the walls and into the history books. But all the media glare, both positive and negative, had an impact on the other 24 guys on the roster. Starting pitching was ok (I won’t “go there” about the pitiful year Barry Zito had…I just…can’t…), the bullpen was ridiculous and hitting was lame. They went up there with sad and tired bats. And our star catcher bitched about it to the press.

It was not a glorious year. It’s the latest in all the depressing seasons we’ve endured after the joys (and pain) of the 2002 World Series.

Ownership says 2008 is a “rebuilding” year. That means some young kids, some no names, and no hope of a post season for at least a couple more years.

But even in the agony of this terrible season, it was there. Baseball was on the radio every night, 162 games a year. The bases were still 90 feet apart and it was still 60 feet, six inches from mound to plate. The Umps still missed calls, players were plunked, miracles were performed and for me, all was all right with the world.

I had a day yesterday for the record books, and as I drove home, looking into the setting sun, sad, mad, exhausted, apathetic, beat down, and depressed as hell, I reached out and touched the “power” button on my radio, and suddenly Jon Miller’s voice boomed out from my radio speakers, “a called strike one!” and I left behind my troubles. My sorrow. My bone wearying exhaustion and I listened to the game. Smiling at strikes, frowning at balls and batting my hand on the steering wheel when the boys in orange and black got a hit and cheering loudly in my car.

I don’t give a rip about any of the teams in the post-season, although I may watch a few games. It’s not the same when it isn’t your team fighting it out.

*sigh* Now what? My baseball friend becomes a hockey fan in the off-season. I like hockey, but not with that fever reserved for baseball.

Guess instead, it’s time to start thinking about what in the hell I’m going to write 50,000 words about for the annual NaNoWriMo.

Heh…three years ago I wrote a baseball book……