Who Needs a Brush? Not Me!

Back in the kindergarten days I always thought the best activities involved using my hands. Sitting and listening to a book being read was ok, but could get boring (reading it myself was far better). Working on worksheets? Bleaack. But clay, markers, crayons. Now we’re talking!

My absolute favorite activity happened when the gelatinous finger paints came out of the supply closet and we all strapped on smocks and got down to business.

I have learned over the course of my life that I have two of my five senses that are especially heightened. First is my sense of touch. I like to touch stuff. I like to feel surfaces. It’s all endlessly fascinating to me. So that luxurious gooey paint was just the ticket!

And the other sense is sight. Now, I don’t mean vision, my eyesight is terrible. I mean the way I respond to visual cues. I learn better visually. And colors! Oh how I love to see a raucous display of color.

So those pots of paint held endless fun for me. I’d dig a finger in there for a blob of red, then a finger full of blue and….holy crap! Purple!

I think all of this is why later on in life I took up crafting. I’m a total sucker for the water based acrylic paints that I use to make my stuff. I wonder sometimes if I’m a complete weirdo, because one of my absolute favorite parts of any project is the early prep work.

I *love* laying down that first layer of white base paint. I LOVE when I can just slap it on there and mush it into the corners and get paint up and down my arms and YES!

And when there is a sale on my brand of paint at the craft store? Step back people, I’m gonna drop some cash.

When I’m working on a craft project, I find I’ll fall in love with a certain color. I’ve had torrid affairs with Tomte Red, Pumpkin Orange, and Bright Blue. And then there’s Evergreen. This is but a few of my flings, I could go on at length.

I even love the blackest black paint and lament that I can’t get it to be darker. It’s all beautiful to me!

I’ve always admired Van Gogh paintings for the fact the man used a LOT of paint on the canvas. He’d mash it and squish it and make magic. I’m no Van Gogh, but I too love to use a lot of paint. I squeeze it on there with reckless abandon and find a place to use it all.

And then when I’m done, I take bristle brushes, sponge brushes, paint palettes, and fingers to the sink and scrub, scrub, scrub. I’m always a bit sad to see the last of the pigment wash away down the drain.

But when I set all the gear to dry, I smile to myself. All those clean brushes are there waiting for me, singing out, “c’mooon, let’s paint!”





This week’s Theme Thursday is paint.

Photo by Flavio Takemoto and used royalty free from stock.xchng.


Hey, Joe!

Been working some long days at the ol’ office this week, and it’s keeping me hopping.

Yesterday evening, I was asked to attend a corporate event in the place of my second level boss. He’s working even harder than I am right now, so I was happy to help him out.

This event was something of a schmoozy thing for a lot of corporate customers around the Bay Area.

Here’s where it gets interesting, this particular gathering was held at the San Francisco 49ers training facility down in Santa Clara.

Growing up in New Mexico with no professional sports teams affiliated with the state, we all adopted our teams from neighboring states. All the kids were either Denver or Dallas fans. Not so for me, I picked the 49ers early on as my team.

It was easy to be a 49ers fan back then. Joe Montana was the guy in charge and our chances of winning on any given Sunday were pretty darn good.

So yesterday I went to the training facility and walked out on the field and took my seat in the tent to sit through the corporate, work related stuff.

Blah blah this and blah blah that….and may we now introduce Jim Harbaugh, coach of the 49ers.

Well hey, that’s pretty cool. Harbaugh, fresh of Stanford’s win in the Orange Bowl, was just named head coach, so he’s got some media credibility.

Harbaugh did some motivational style speaking in the way only an old style football coach could. I mean heck, I was ready to hit the weight room and strap on the shoulder pads by the time he was done. Harrgggh!

But the finale of the night was the best. 49er helmets and footballs were given to a few attendees as prizes (I got a football) and then Joe Montana, Bay Area royalty, entered the room.

He gave a short talk about the company putting on the event, how great their product is, and then went to the back of the room for a meet and greet.

So, you know, here I am with my new friend Joe (he also signed my football).




It’s a Bird, It’s a Plane! No, wait…it’s not that at all.

Today in the San Francisco Chronicle‘s online edition, the SFGate, there was a very brief story on the front page for a few hours.

Here’s the headline:

Pot-firing catapult found at Arizona-Mexico border

Ok, in a nutshell, the story is:

“Drug smugglers trying to get marijuana across the Arizona-Mexico border apparently are trying a new approach — a catapult.

National Guard troops operating a remote video surveillance system at the Naco Border Patrol Station say they observed several people preparing a catapult and launching packages over the International Border fence last Friday evening.”

Blah, blah, blah, the Border Patrol and National Guard seized the catapult and about 4 pounds of the green stuff.

A fairly amusing story, all in. But that’s not the best part.

SFGate allows readers to comment on articles, and that’s where it gets good.

Here’s a selection of the best of what SFGate readers had to say:

“The catapult has been held without bail”

“Time for US to spend a few billion dollars to develop counter-catapult technology.”

“When trebuchets are outlawed, only outlaws will have trebuchets.”

“Total distance traveled by projectile: Over the border;
Time to impact from launch: 2.5 seconds;
Angle of launch: 45 degrees;
Temperature at time of launch: 65 degrees Fahrenheit;
Dimensions of projectile: 8 inch wide x 12 inch long cannabis;
Force of gravity: 32.15223 ft/s/s;
Muy bueno!”

(that’s geeky goodness)

“OMG it’s raining pot!”

“sounds pretty half baked.”

“No doubt these guys got the idea for their new delivery method from playing Angry Birds on their stolen iPhones.”

“They left this part of the story off:

‘Shortly after the seizure, the Mexican troops contacted the Americans and offerred to capapult 10 kilos of marijuana to the American side of the border in exchange for 10 large combination pizzas and a case of Doritos.'”

“Sophisticated criminals use a trebuchet.”

“Green Express. When it absolutely, positively has to be there overnight.”

“This is what you get when the smugglers trade pot to an engineer for design work…”

“Save the bales!”

“The free Mexican Air Force is flying tonight
Flying so high yi hiyeeeeee!!”


I guess I should expect no less from the Bay Area, a place notoriously in favor of the use of the same stuff that is being lobbed over the wall.

Buncha smartasses. *grin*






Image from Icanhazcheeseburger


Pandering

Today, I’m going to pander to the keyword search.

Oh yes I am…pander a go-go.

You know, it’s an odd thing to look at the visitor stats for my little ol’ blog and see what exactly brings folks around.

I’ll have you know, the NUMBER ONE reason people visit my blog is because of a single post I did on the geometric wonder known as the trapezoid.

I’m not even kidding. “Trapezoid” is the number one most searched keyword for Oh Fair New Mexico.

I think I may have helped schoolchildren around the globe by posting a photograph of a trapezoid in real life, my former office building.

Here it is:



There is she is, folks! A trapezoid! In real life! Right there!

Trapezoid, trapezoid, trapezoid (<- Now I'm just baiting the search engines....) What is a trapezoid? (< - still baiting) In case you don't know what a trapezoid looks like, I have something for you:



Ain’t she a beauty! An isosceles trapezoid! That’s HOT!

Why all the pandering? Well, I recently noticed via an image search that some kindergarten class in Washington DC has robbed me of my trapezoid-based SEO.

Oh hell no!

I’m taking back the trapezoid.

Love the trapezoid! Embrace the trapezoid!

If you’re a Brit, enjoy the trapezium!

There…that should do it.


Important Medical Tools *snicker*

Yesterday I had my annual physical with the doctor.

Unfortunately, the good doctor was detained by the patient in the room next door. The gent had experienced complications from drinking too much over the holidays, and in the follow-on checkup meeting wanted to (loudly) argue with his doctor about reducing his alcohol intake.

New Year’s resolutions and all that, I suppose.

Anyhoo…when you leave me in a tiny medical cubicle for over an hour wearing only a rear ventilated paper gown, I’m oh-so very much going to find ways to amuse myself.

Herewith, a photographic treasury from my appointment.

Once I’d gotten myself settled into my paper gown and black socks (a hot look, I can assure you) I shifted my heiney up onto the exam table, where I was instructed to wait.

The first thing my gaze fell upon was this:



That doesn’t…look, um, right. I mean, I live in a first world nation. What exactly are these barbaric tools doing just lying about?

And how exactly is the item on the left is incorporated into the items center and right?

Wait, don’t tell me. I’m not sure I want to know.

Yes, I know that one is a tuning fork to check my hearing and one is a reflex tester to whack at my knee. But do I really need to be lubed up for all that?!?

I felt…uncomfortable.

Which made me start to shiver like a Chihuahua in my little blue gown.

THEN my gaze landed here:



Um. Is that applied to the air? Or is that applied to me? I showered. I’m fresh as a daisy. Honest.

And then you have to think…in a medical facility…they probably get some odors you don’t want to know about.

So I *quickly* shifted my gaze.

Oh, look, there is a rack of brochures! Who doesn’t love a nice brochure?

Whoa. What’s this?



Is this a cautionary tale? Don’t get the piles, kids, or you’ll look like this guy!

Hemorrhoids make you a zombie!! *rooowwwrrrr*

That photo is so wrong. So, so wrong.

And the copy of a copy of a copy gives it such a backoffice, off-label, ‘roid whacking assembly line feeling that doesn’t make me love my current health care provider.

I quickly started digging in the cabinets to find another paper gown to put on backwards, just to cover stuff up. No luck, they must dole out those tiny gowns in the smallest possible increments.

“You know…I’m feeling *fine*…I am fit as a fiddle! I’m just going to go home now, mmmkay?”

If you see a lady sprinting down the road in a tattered blue paper gown and black socks, look away. I’m working out some issues.