Happy Birthday to Me.

I turned 34 over the weekend. Here are some of the highlights:

• Sarah got a cold. She's been a little trooper in between all the sniffling and coughing, but even though the fussing has been kept to a (relative, for a toddler) minimum, she still needed constant attention and affection. Poor dear.

• On Saturday morning my jaunt to the shower was interrupted when I slammed my foot into a door frame and stubbed my toe (the middle one, left foot). It hurt like a mofo, but I've stubbed my toes many times before (the by-product of have such big feet and gangly digits) so I sucked it up and went about my day. Later, after a few hours of limping through the grocery store, I came home and took off my shoe to find it swollen and black. Since I can still move it, it's not broken, just really, really fucked up. A lot of time with an ice pack and my foot elevated (not to mention lots and lots of Tylenol) have helped it feel better, but there's still some healing to be done.

• While at the supermarket (a Vons in Claremont that was celebrating its grand re-opening) we stopped at the KOST-FM booth where they were doing a remote and got to meet one of Southern California's leading kings of smarm for the past two decades, Mike Sakellarides. He gave Mary Ann a KOST compact mirror, a KOST bookmark, a tube of KOST lip balm, some KOST stickers, and -- the piece de resistance -- an autographed bio/headshot. He gave me a hearty handshake and told me I have a beautiful daughter. He told Sarah to "have a nice life." I suppose this encounter will have to do until we get to meet Shatner or Adam West someday.

• On Sunday (my actual birthday) the torrential downpours we've been having for weeks knocked out our power for close to 12 hours. Since that meant no electric stove, Mary Ann couldn't cook that big birthday breakfast she promised me, or anything else for that matter. We have to eat whatever we could straight from the package. With an electric thermostat, no power also meant no heat and just a tinny little Hello Kitty radio for entertainment. But since several people have lost their lives to this storm already, I suppose it could have been worse.

• My dad gave me a new car stereo to replace our current piece of shit. Of course, this doesn't do anything to change the piece-of-shitness of the vehicle surrounding the stereo (Have you ever heard Adam Sandler's "Ode to My Car"? It's kinda like that.), but at least we can pump the tunes without worrying whether the CD will play or not, and actually be able to see the display as well.

Anybody got any Tylenol?