Some webfame for our Fair New Mexico.
From the "Blog" of "Unnecessary" Quotation Marks
I've never been prouder to be a New Mexican.
Gotta love Grants.
New Mexico, Holla!
Excuse me, your pettiness is showing
I'm going to take a divergence from my usual frivolity and irreverence here on this blog.
Yup, a departure. I'm instead going to sink below all that and slip right over into immature and really, a bit petty.
But I'll redeem myself by the end. I promise.
Watch me work.
So, last evening I was out and about. I had drinks with a former coworker. A lady who is a friend, a mentor, and someone I respect deeply. It was great to catch up, laugh a little, and have fun.
Later, after we'd parted ways, I wandered over to the ol' stompin' grounds located near my former employer. I was looking for a friend I knew would probably be there, having a drink. I was surprised to find not just my buddy, but also a whole group of my former crew from The Company.
These are the folks I worked with, side by side, walking through fire, hand-to-hand combat, and together we had major, major success.
These are some of the best folks, and it was great to see them!
Among those present was a gentleman (using that term loosely) that I worked with pretty closely back in the day. This was quite a few years ago, well before The Good Man.
For the sake of anonymity, let's call him...Sporto.
Back then, I sorta had a little crush on the guy. Yes, I'll admit it, I liked ol' Sporto a lot and might have chased him a little bit. I think he might have liked me a little too, but just a little. He actually liked it better when I was chasing him around.
So of course, I never got any traction there, and eventually gave up.
Whatever.
So last night, there Sporto was, and seemed really happy to see me. He gave me a big hug, a "how *are* you?" and that ol' charming smile...the one like a ferret about to devour the alligator egg.
After hugs all around the group, we all got a drink and settled around a table. We quickly fell back into our old ways, teasing each other mercilessly and laughing a lot.
At one point, I said to the group something like, "yeah, my husband told me blah blah blah."
What I said doesn't matter.
What *does* matter is that when I said the phrase "my husband", ol' Sporto's ears perked up, and he gave me a look like someone had shot his dog.
He caught my eye across the table and mouthed, "You got married?"
I nodded eagerly and held up my ring hand.
And I grinned a Cheshire smile.
Later he caught me aside, "uh...when did you get married? I mean, last time I saw you...you were...."
He left that space empty to imply, "last time I saw you, you were into ME"
Whatever.
I laughed and said, "Yeah, I got married about a year ago, he's great, we're having a lot of fun."
And here's where I got petty.
I then said to him, concerned hand on his shoulder, "Why do you look so sad?"
He mumbled, "I don't know.....I guess.....just another good one off the market."
What I *should* have replied was "YOU HAD YOUR CHANCE, DILLWEED!!"
Here's where I redeem myself.
What I did reply was, "thanks for saying that..."
He then shuffled off, shot-dog look and shoulder slumped, over to the bar, and ordered another beer.
I went back to my friends and picked up where we left off.
I also *might* have engaged in a small, yet subtle vindication dance.
Dear Canadian Hiring Managers:
It's ok. Unclench. You might like it.
"A telephone survey of 100 senior Canadian executives showed that more than a fifth of executives said a single typo on a resume or cover letter could cost a potential employee a job, while 28 percent said two mistakes would kill their chances."
Wow, really? I'm a hiring manager. I went through a two year period where I was constantly hiring. I've probably looked at over a thousand resumes. All were done to greater and lesser degree. Yes, some were so sloppy it wasn't worth taking a look, but a minor error here or there, especially if it's a common typo, teh for the, for instance, is certainly acceptable.
I agree that job seekers need to put a best foot forward all of the time. I agree with polishing the resume, having someone else read it, making it clean and crisp. This is your sales pitch and you need to get it right.
But for me and for the hiring managers I know, one typo doesn't kill anyone's chances. Unless this is a job for the typing pool where accuracy matters, it's more about the qualities of the person, not their keyboarding skills. I think if that's the view the company takes of minor human error, then who would want to work there anyway?
Mua ha hahaha ah ah!
I have turned my minions into zombies! Zombies, I tell you!
I have shared with the minions my little addiction, and they have succumbed as have I, their mighty leader!
Oh yes.
See, while on road trip over the Fourth of July, in some forgotten town off of Highway 5, with snackies on my mind, I picked up two packs of these little beauties:
I took them and squirreled them into our car and I ATE them. Oh yes I did. Every one of them. I didn't even offer one to The Good Man. I just ate 'em and ate 'em until they were gone.
Like that first hit off a crack pipe, I was done. I succumbed. First taste is free....then you're gonna pay.
While devouring these nutty little heroin balls, I saw that the Pnuttles people had a website where they vend their product. Then, I thought...maybe I can save a couple bucks by ordering from Amazon.
To Amazon I went and YES! there they were. Only...it's more complicated. I found the butter toffee almonds....but with *cinnamon* added. I didn't even look at price, I one-click ordered those bad boys so fast your head would swim!
Oh my.
Last evening I arrived home from a difficult day at work to find that my precious had been delivered to the front door step. Yes!
I tore into the box like a wild animal to discover that I had purchased not one but TWO jars of my addiction. WHAT!?!?
Turns out I ordered 1 each of a two pack. Good lord.
The Husbandnator looked in askance (remember, at this point he was not yet a Pnuttles zombie), "we can't eat all of those" he told me.
I shrank back, protecting my precious. But then cooler heads prevailed, and I realized he's right.
"I'll take one to work," I replied.
That seemed reasonable, we agreed, then cracked open the jar we were keeping.
Husband took a few bites and declared "EVIL!"
Umm hmmm.....
We sat on the couch, feeding our addiction, watching who cares what on the television. Didn't matter, only the constant crunch crunch of not-too-sweet delicious toffee almonds.
Today, I brought the other jar to work. I posted a note, "These are very addictive. Enjoy!"
That was twenty minutes ago and there is now a line of zombie minions coming to my door exclaiming "these are sooooo goooood"
Yup.
My Pnuttles army of zombies increases. We are unstoppable! (except for when the jar runs out and we all flop over in sugar coma)
Here's where you too can succumb and become a member:
I knew it!
Yes! For once, science backs my play....
Swearing Makes Pain More Tolerable
I think I always knew this on some level, despite the naysayers who simply think I have a potty mouth. No, I was enacting highly sophisticated mechanisms in this ol' human rig to help me deal.
Pardon me whilst I engage in a vindication dance.
: shake shake bootay :
: sniiiiiff : Oh yeah, that's the stuff
Earlier today, in a meeting at work, one of my teammates was given a gift from our clients. It was a really nifty wool stadium blanket.
Another lady asked to look at it, and when it landed in her hands, she brought it to her nose and took a good deep smell.
Just writing that...I know you know that smell, right? Nothing else smells like wool.
I smiled, because I was across the table and I knew exactly what she was smelling. I thought to myself about my own memories of the smell of wool.
Usually winter, outside, snowy day in Albuquerque (the only time it would be cold enough to wear a wool sweater). That perfect storm of smells combined, wool, a snowy day, a bit of sweat and the dirt on my mittens (that got there from making a snowball to lob, offline, at my brother).
Yeah.
So then this got me thinking about the deep associations made from odors, both good and bad.
But I was thinking about good...about the smells I deeply love.
The first that immediately came to mind was leather. I mean, unless you are a PETA advocate, who doesn't love the smell of good leather?
Just that smell can dredge up lots of happy memories.
Like...the combined smell of leather and saddle soap you get upon opening the door to a tack room. Especially when I was taking riding classes at NMSU, because that tack room had rows and rows of saddles, all smelling nice.
Or...back when we first started dating, The Good Man had this black hard-leather jacket. It's now too big for him and I think he recently gave it away, but I can easily remember that smell. Hugging him really tight, sinking my face into the shoulder of that jacket and inhaling deeply, tattooing the scent of cute boy and leather deeply into every single cell of my being.
Yeah.
Or, or....how about the smell of a new baseball glove? So many kids will get a new glove and spend lots of time with that thing firmly over the face inhaling. Nothing like that smell.
But I seem to be stuck on leather...
What's another good smell?
Oh, I know! So...up and down the peninsula here, they have tons of Eucalyptus trees. Early in the morning or very late at night (depending on what side of the nightclub you're on), when you get the heavy damp fog, it makes those trees let go that very distinctive scent.
The moist, cool damp and Eucalyptus smell... when I travel somewhere else, and then come home, I always latch on to that smell first. It's SO the Bay Area. Easily identifiable by anyone who has ever lived here.
Here's an easy one for all the New Mexico folks...the smell of chiles roasting. Utterly identifiable...for miles. So reminiscent of home.
Summer rain on hot pavement. God I love that smell!
Sheets washed with Downy and dried on the clothesline. Haven't done it in years, so who knows if it smells good anymore? Doesn’t matter, in my memories, it's always fantastic. I think it helped being in NM because stuff dried really fast and didn't pick up too much environmental yuck.
Home baked cinnamon rolls served on Christmas morning.
The soap and water smell of my husband just after he emerges from the shower. So delicious! (ok, that's two about The Good Man, sorry!)
This is kind of funny, but how about the first time you noticed the distinctive smell of money? For me, it was after getting paid allowance for the first time with the kind of money that folded, not jingled. That dollar bill smelled like potential to me.
Aw, heck, I suppose I could go on all night this way.
I'm sure there's some scientist who would explain how odors can make such vivid memories (like here), but I don't need to know the science.
Right now, I'm sitting on the couch, watching a baseball game...thinking of how the yard smells on a nice July night like this. Garlic fries, hot dogs and marine layer.
Indelible.
Ah yes, it's time
Thanks to Jim Baca for the link to:
ABQJournalWatch
Put together by former reporter Tracy Dingmann and former Albuquerque Journal reporter and editorial page writer Denise Tessier to take a closer look at the shenanigans over at New Mexico's only paper.
I'd say this blog is much necessary and long overdue.
Vile Looking Fast Food
Interesting blog post about fast food that looks gross, even in the shiny happy ad campaign.
Link here.
Pretty good top five list. I agree with most.
However my vote goes to ANYTHING Carl's Jr. makes. That #$%^ makes me nauseous just thinking about it.
Ah, vocabulary
As a writer, I'm always interested to see, year to year, which words end up getting added to the dictionary.
Usually they are popular words that bee-bop around the lexicon and eventually get legitimized.
Generally, once the word is added to Merriam-Webster, the trend is so over...
Anyhow, here's a sampling of new words recently added:
Staycation (my *god* I loathe this word...and I'm a lover of words!)
Frenemy (pretty much hate this one too)
Locavore ( : sound of head pounding on desk : )
And a new definition for sock puppet (whatever)
*sigh*
I'm sure that words like tweeple, facebrag and running latte are soon to follow.
Is it a bad sign that Urban Dictionary has become a legitimate reference tool?
Ah well.
I don't know, call me sentimental
I blame NewMexiKen and his recent blogging about citizenship tests. I pondered on it a bit in this post too, but lately, I've been thinking a bit about being an American and, yes, in my post-Fourth of July haze...about being patriotic.
I still get a proud chill when the Blue Angels fly low overhead. I put my hand over my heart when they play the Star Spangled. I can recite the Pledge of Allegiance with practiced ease.
Patriotism sort of became a bad word during the previous administration, where aspersions were cast left and right about who was and was not patriotic. That made me grit my teeth.
So ok, I don't wear it on my sleeve, but sure, I am patriotic. I own it.
When I read this article in today's Las Cruces Sun News, I have to admit, I got a little lump in the throat proud.
A small piece, really. Just a short bit about a local boy scout troop doing a proper ceremony to dispose of soiled flags.
I don't really know all the rules about flying the flag, but I know enough. I get testy when I see a flag flying in the rain. Or unlit in the dark. Or when it's been whipped to shreds but still flies.
I don't really do anything wacky about it, like the guy who tore down the Mexican flag on the UNM campus when he noticed a violation of flag protocol.
But I notice stuff and it bugs me.
It was an interesting read at the VFW site about the main code for flying a flag. I learned a little there.
Also interested to see the link to this site, a company that provides proper disposal of a flag for a fee.
Mainly, getting back to the event held in Las Cruces, I was just happy to see a new generation of kids is learning respect and both the proper way to fly, and when the time comes, dispose of, Old Glory.
Photo recycled from this blog...taken at Fort Stanton, NM
Kids, just say nuh-uh
Much this week about bringing idols from my childhood to a demise.
No, not what you're thinking. I'm not talking about that *event* held today in LA, which shall go unnamed on this blog as I don't need to lend anymore kerfuffle to the well built pile already laying around.
No, I have something else on my mind.
Namely....how come drinking and driving makes your hair all jacked up?
Couple arrests this week.
First Joyce DeWitt, former hottie from Three's Company:
And now, the guy who played Carmine "The Big Ragoo" on Laverne & Shirley.
I seem to recall he used to be pretty hot. I might have had a little "thing" for him, in the day.
And now? Yeeeow!
I need to go now and spend some time tending to my broken childhood dreams.
Images and story courtesy of TMZ.
Well, Right!
"I thought 'Am I going to die?' But it was just like any other flu really."
Actor Rupert Grint on recovering from Swine Flu.
How come THIS angle doesn't get all the media coverage?
Harumph!
I have doubts.
From my company's cafeteria menu for Monday:
(and there is no green chile in that....HA-rumph!)
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