Category: cursing

I’m a little ticked.

Believe me, I’m no card carrying PETA-type person, but I do have a deep love of animals. And I believe if you are going to take one on as a pet, you have a responsibility to that animal, in good times and in bad.

And the cost of keeping and caring for an animal for their lifespan MUST be factored into your decision. Also your contingency if you are unable to care for your pet any longer.

I see *too* many people using the disposable pet approach.

And that gets me steamed.

So why am I ranting on this topic today?

Because of this article in both the Las Cruces Sun News and the ABQjournal today:

Horses May Be Relinquished as People Economize

Seems as the economy gets tough, people are looking to give their horses to Dona Ana County animal control, who only has capacity to handle a few.

Owning a horse is a lot of hard work. They eat a lot (and feed prices get driven by ever upward spiraling corn prices). They need to be ridden and exercised. They need a lot of vet services. And farrier work too.

While I know that when times are rough, expenses and “nice to haves” have to be cut back.

But abandoning your animal? Not cool.

From the Las Cruces Sun News article:

“Childress said he’s suggested horse owners try to sell their animal or find another home before contacting his office. But that can also prove difficult because of the number of horses already on the market.”

Jeez.

The price of petrol affects more than just the fuel in your gas tank.

And the dominos fall.

Well hey, little lady…don’t get mad there…

Grr.

I got mad today. At work. Really mad. Justifiably mad, actually.

It happens, right? You can never expect to go through life, or least of all, work, without someone ticking you off.

What with everyone having their own *opinion* and everything.

I was mad at a representative from a perpetually maddening organization (*coff*legal*coff*) and was, uh, vocalizing my opinions toward my computer screen.

Being that I sit in a cubicle environment, of course, those seated around me can hear such…vocalizations.

So a couple of coworkers came over…people who are working on this same project and had reason to feel as emotional as me about the recent developments.

Then *it* happened.

“Oh…that’s too bad…calm down,” followed by a pat-pat on the arm.

Here’s a little hint to dealing with me. Never tell me to “calm down” when I’m anything but…and NEVER pat me condescendingly on the arm or head or shoulder.

Never.

And you know who are the worst offenders of this? Women.

Oh yeah. Most women just want to “keep the peace” and have everyone “get along” or whatever.

Would anyone pat-pat a man on the shoulder and tell him to “calm down?”

Not bloody likely.

Oh, I have to be a “good” girl, don’t get loud, don’t get emotional, don’t express feelings. No, just caaaaalm down, : pat pat : and go along to get along.

Working a theme here in my blog this week, I say F that!

Mind your spelling

This as a follow up to yesterday’s post.

Seems the f-bomb has become quite the expressive word!

News out of London….Ah the Brits.

quote:

“The Times newspaper on Monday quoted examiner Peter Buckroyd as saying he gave (a) student — who wrote an expletive starting with f, followed by the word “off” — two points out of a possible 27 for the English paper.

‘…it does show some very basic skills we are looking for, like conveying some meaning and some spelling,’ Buckroyd was quoted as saying.

Buckroyd said the student would have received a higher mark if the phrase had been punctuated.”

end quote

Hey, at least it was spelled right! And heckMr. Censorship! brought the thunder with punctuation. Extra credit!

These days at my job, the f-bomb is just another overused adjective. It doesn’t even carry a punch anymore.

But yesterday and today, quite the media darling. A meme even!

Source

Fuming

I’m still fuming a bit from something I encountered while in Albuquerque about a week ago.

Having been raised in New Mexico, I’ve always been a fan of beautifully crafted silver and turquoise jewelry.

I had the privilege of living near some of the finest Native American craftsmen who create works of art, and I’ve never taken that for granted.

Over the years, I’ve always been on my guard and tried to buy from reputable people where I know the jewelry was not only handmade by Native American people, but the gems were real and unique.

So while in Albuquerque near Old Town, I had occasion to visit one of my favorite stores where I know the pieces are always legitimate and beautiful. That place is called Casa de Avila and it’s been a place where a lot of my paychecks have gone over the years.

The real stuff, the good stuff, isn’t always the least expensive stuff.

So after buying a couple items there, we wandered out onto the plaza. I saw the row of people selling their wares on blankets laid out on the sidewalk and yes, it took me back a lot of years. Even as a kid I knew how to get in there, find something nice, and work with the artisan on a fair price.

Seeing this again, I was fired up to take a look.

For quite a while I’ve been looking for a particular necklace. A real turquoise graduated bead necklace, like this only longer and in blue turquoise.

That necklace, made by hand (meaning hand shaped round stones) with hand matched beads is VERY expensive, but really a masterpiece.

You can find some like it that are machine matched, shaped and strung, sure.

I’d like a handcrafted piece. Let me just say this….VERY expensive.

So as I strolled along the row of merchants there on the sidewalk, I spotted a really nice looking necklace. I looked at the gentleman who was selling the works, a Native American man, and thought “maybe this is the one”.

I walked past his stand to look at what else was out there, told The Good Man “I may be about to spend a very lot of money” and went back to place where’d I’d spotted that necklace.

I kneeled down and picked up the piece that had caught my eye.

Immediately, I knew something wasn’t right. For a long necklace made out of turquoise, it was really light. And it didn’t have that sleek cool-to-the-touch feel in my hands.

Hmm.

I remember over the years a lot of articles and conversations about how to tell if turquoise is fake.

Something I read once said hold a lighter up to the piece. If it’s plastic turquoise, obviously, it will melt.

Not having a lighter on me, I tried another trick. I took one of the beads in my fingers and pushed my thumbnail into it. On that warm Albuquerque day after sitting in the sun, it felt sort of…soft. My nail sunk in a bit, just the tiniest amount, but enough to tell me this was a genuine Native American-made piece crafted of incredibly fake stones.

I put the necklace down and walked away reeling. I told TGM what had happened and he gave the guy the benefit of the doubt, “Maybe he needs to sell a piece like that so he can buy real turquoise”. Maybe. Yeah.

But the tag on it said “genuine turquoise”. It’s a lie.

I didn’t actually price the item (it wasn’t on the tag) and maybe should have. If he’s selling it for $20, then fine. I have a feeling that’s not the case.

I’m not naïve, yes, I know this kind of thing still goes on, and the caveat “buyer beware” is still very much in effect.

I was just mad at first…then later sad. I’d hate to think that someone visiting my fair New Mexico would get swindled. But yes, I know it happens and I can’t save the world…

By the way…I support Southwest Indian Foundation. They work to help folks in trouble through sales and also via donations.

And they have a beautiful selection of genuine pieces at reasonable rates.

Yipe!

Aw, who is that cute girl caught in the headlights?

That would be, you know, me.

Under 60 days out from “the big event” and my cool, calm demeanor has cracked.

Silly me to think that people to whom you pay an exorbitant amount of money would, you know, just DO their jobs.

I thought it was ridiculous when The Good Man told me early on we needed to manage these people. Nah, silly me thought. People will behave like professionals until they prove themselves otherwise.

Ah the proofs. So painfully coming in otherwise.

I think I understand how some people become Bridezillas.

I don’t want to be a Bridezilla. I want to be a Bridecoolgirl. Or Brideprettyprincess.

My work life is pretty negotiation intensive. I spend 40+ hours a week telling suppliers how much they’ve screwed up and to get their collective sh– together.

I try, oh do I try, not to do this in my personal life. Separation of church and state and all that.

Ooooh but no, they are making me get out my Incredible Procurement Hulk ninja skills.

Believe me…you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.

This is supposed to be a party. When does it get fun?

And if I hear ONE more person tell me, “Oh don’t worry! That day will be all about YOU!”…..