Addie E Lafferty-Beakley
I have not met Addie. Have you ever had one of your friends marry someone and you just KNOW if you two were in the same town you would be super awesome friends? That is how I feel about Addie. She married one of my close college buds, Will Beakley. I haven’t had the chance to sit and get to know her, but one of these days (and we both say this) – we will get our littlekiddles together because we need to set up this arranged marriage already. ūüėȬ†She has a precious little daughter, Zoe, my son’s age, and seriously I think we’d all have a blast.
Here is ONE thing I do know about Addie. Her wedding dress kicks all of your wedding dress dreams out the window. Seriously, have you gotten married? Do you want to some day? Well forget it. Your wedding pictures should just be burned now. You will never be as gorgeous as this woman on this day in her life…. ever. Sorry, world. This is the pinnacle. ūüôā

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‚̧ Thanks for being my friend (and lets really meet!)#TheFacebookProject

I met Will Beakley my Freshmen year at NMSU, in the dark den of a computer lab that we snuck into late at night.

The year was 1994. The game – Descent. It was there, in the thick of Jansport backpacks and scientific calculators, with fledgling adult males discussing Linux machines and Netscape, that I encountered my first taste of what would become the modern day computer geek – you know, that guy you went to school with who makes a helluva lot more money than you now? The room was FULL OF EM. I chose my screenname “Mantis” … because she eats the head off the male after…..anyhoo – and I flew my little spaceship in a 3D universe trying to blow a reactor – and I had fun. Will sat next to me, and actually coached me a little on how to not die. Those guys were so nice to me, and it was there that I learned a few things about how to communicate with an early 90s dude. The music is really the best thing (okay, for ME) about the burgeoning 90s video game explosion – and Will FULLY embraced the soundtrack to his gamer god existence and his real life. Speaking of real life, he went on to graduate, become a programmer, rip all his hair out researching code (you like that? ūüėȬ†) and move to Phoenix where he met and married the most beautiful (and still best wedding dressed evahhh) Addie E Lafferty-Beakley, and have the most beautiful and precocious little Zoe, and become what can only be described as Grilling Gourmet Metal Dad of the Year.
Will is such a kind and wonderful soul. He and I really hit it off back in that dungeon of nerds (hehehe) and we were fast friends from then on out (funny enough he was ALWAYS the surprise friend of my next boyfriend haha…what like I had a type or something?) He was my dark malty beer swilling bud, he was ALWAYS my bouncer at every party I threw (there were many…I think I owe you some money), he was my big protector in a mosh pit or my big protector on campus – he was just always caring about all of us. There are pictures of Will at pajama jammy jams…that I do not have and sadly will not be able to put here. but I have faith in the rest of you that they will be found. I hope that some day we can get our kids together and I can sip Sangria with Addie because I know we would click as fast as anyone!


I’m proud to be your friend and love that we can share toddler hell stories now!
This is your photo, Will, from Halloween at Chameleons… the Ulcer show.
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I think it probably says more than my ramblings. I loves ya! ūüôā
‚̧ Thank you for being my friend#TheFacebookProject

‚ÄĒ with Will Beakley.

Beverly Weidner and I met in the hallowed halls of Hobbs High School. (ALLITERATION!)

I don’t have a photo of the Bev in HS, but I can tell you that when I see a pair of plaid Doc Martens her image instantly pops in my head.

Beverly is effervescent. I remember her as someone you just felt happy to talk to. She was always encouraging, always present, light and joyous – bright eyed. The girl we all wanted to be in high school.

NO ONE IS REALLY LIKE THAT.

But no, she is. She has a Disney princess voice. She was a lead character in HHS Glee, and went on to sing in grunge bands. I say grunge because I’ve only seen pics of she and her now hubs in lots of flannel. They could’ve been singing hymnals for all I know – but I do know she can belt out a tune.
Bev went on to leave a 9-5 and boldly go where no one from Hobbs has gone before – the world of foodie blogs. In true Bev form, she knocked it out tha pahk. (I can say it that way as I’m in Massachusetts now). SHE, however, is in Missourah. When I talk about how people from my Senior class are talented and successful, I point wildly in the direction of Mizz Weidner. This blog….THIS BLOG…. if you aren’t following it daily then I just don’t know what you are doing with your lives except eating PBJs all day and being sad. CHECK IT…. www.bevcooks.com.
Within the blog she lets you peek in on her amazing d√©cor, amazing dishes, and amazing family – which is why I can say she has the cutest twinsies I’ve ever seen. (Don’t tell my Jim – he’s a twin) So really, just subscribe to that lil blog down there and she writes her story for me.

Bev you are an inspiration to me!

‚̧¬†Thanks for being¬†my friend with flair. ¬† ūüôā¬†#‚ÄéTheFacebookProject‚Ĩ

Bev-getting her famous on:

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Austin Miller
AUSTINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!
I met Austin at Frontier Airlines. He is too big of a force to write about in prose. I am going to describe Austin in slam poetry.

SHARK ATTACK.

bitten off calf scar everyyybody loves Austin.
All stitched up, Lilo and Stitched up, but if you’re Nemo then He’s BATMAN,

He likes big cats and he cannot lie.
Rolling on the floor like Madonna. Lady Madonna. Madonna Mega Mix Brittney Spears dance.

Selfie. LETMETAKEASELFIE. Oops you did it again.
Put your pants on put your shirt on get to the gym.

Come out come out, you finally came out. My heart was so happy when you finally came out. Pup. Bear.
Austin, my Austin.
I love you.
Bitch.

‚̧ Thanks for being my friend. I MEES YOU! ‚Ä™#‚ÄéTheFacebookProject‚Ĩ

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Todd J Davis and I met the way people do when on summer break from college in the southwest –

At the Hobbs Walmart!

(said with full twang)
He was standing behind me in line, I think it was the summer of 95 or 96 and I recognized his uncanny glow of ginger-fabuloso immediately. I’d seen him walking the NMSU campus – what on Earth was he doing at the Hobbs Walmart? Well, I asked him, he answered (he was from Lovington, and Lovington people, when in need of doing something, go to the Hobbs Walmart…or the Hobbs movie theater.)
We became fast friends. Todd is an instantly likable and sweet soul. He is dashing, SUPAH BUFF (he works out, like hard you guys), and I do not think he has been sans beard or some play on facial hair since I met him (remember your jet black hair?! You were so cool, Todd!!! You are so cool Todd!)

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Todd went on to work for Disney (if I remember you first went to cruise ships and then settled in Orlando!) which is perfect because if there is a magical kingdom it is the hilarity and mind of Mr. Davis. He documented a trip home to Lea County once and I cry-laughed at his church selfies – his dinosaur cowboy museum breakdown… I also cry laughed at his on point facial photo-shopping into every horror movie ever for the month of October.

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Todd and I haven’t seen each other since the 90’s, and I stalk him on Facebook when I need a lift to my day.
He has a little boxer girl furbaby, a brightly painted killa home, his hair stands tall, red and proud, and his eyes smile even when his mouth doesn’t. I’m super happy to know you, I’m super happy we met at that there Walmart, and I’m super happy to see you so happy in your life. SO MANY HAPPYS, I’m out!
Love hugs and all the goods!

‚̧ Thank you for being my friend! ‚Ä™#‚ÄéTheFacebookProject‚Ĩ

When I turned 21 the Las Cruces bar scene was a hopping dive-y nightlife-filled college town. ¬†I say that in a past-tense as anyone who knew it then knows that NOW the landscape is very different. ¬†Back in my day we walked to The Club. ¬†Uphill both ways. ¬† Hurricane Alley was literally just an alley. ¬† There was the Great American, Cowboys, Club West, Aggie Sports Connection, Las Caras at the Hilton (where I cocktailed), ¬†and on and on. ¬†It was at The Club where I met Mr. Scott Guthrie. ¬†He was a big, intimidating, long twisting goateed bartender who when he spoke forced you to lean in to hear him which made him even more intimidating. ¬†I think he may have scared me a little. ¬†I used to follow a local band called “The Liar’s,” and he was their guitarist. ¬† As things go in the LC, we came to know each other in the same bartender circles, and then just the same circles, and then we wound up living on the same circle. ¬†I was Scott’s neighbor in 2008 for a year and a half (and lived across the street from the lead singer of his then band as well)…and I still miss our ‘hood.

Here is what I know about the illusive and mythological creature that is “the Scotty.” ¬† ¬† ¬† His goatee is legendary, defining. ¬† He is deeply kind. ¬†He is devoted to his wife and sons and friends. ¬† Scott is METAL. ¬†Thrasher. ¬†He is an independent spirit born of the patriotic¬†live and let live¬†political zone of thought. ¬†He is matter-of-fact, meticulous in his movements and mathematical¬†in his results, a perfect combination for an amazing musician and amazing bartender (again – just my *absolutely correct* theory – bartenders are the best people on earth). ¬†He coined “Club Kitty” to my little black cat that would cruise down our street to hang out with him during happy hour and rehearsal. ¬†He played “Shipping up to Boston” for me on the juke at Hurricane my last few weeks in Las Cruces before I moved. ¬†He gives a lot of shits about good people, and vice versa. ¬†I enjoy his friendship now on Facebook as a common sense respite from the daily crazy. ¬†Is he a Yankee’s fan? ¬†Yes. ¬†But not everyone can be perfect at everything. ¬†He likes the SeaHawks more, I think…

He has been in every band that has ever played in Las Cruces. ¬† Hey is that Paul McCartney? ¬†Oh Look Scotty’s on guitar! ¬† Metallica? ¬†Bieber? ¬†There is Scott Guthrie! ¬† ¬†Seriously…every band. ¬†Look it up.

There were many nights closing down my bar at midnight that I would choose Scotty’s bar over any other, for the great conversation, the great drink, the great dude that he is. ¬†¬†I miss you!

‚̧ Thank you for being my Rock Stahhhh friend! ¬† ‚Ä™#‚ÄéTheFacebookProject‚Ĩ

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Check out Scott in his band Cordova if you are in the area btw!

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I moved from the tough streets of Brockton, MA to the lunar surface of the moon in the summer of 1985. ¬†By surface of the moon, I mean our family moved to Hobbs, New Mexico. ¬†Hobbs is a little oil town on the West Texas/NM border, and they are so torn as to state loyalty that they simply call themselves Hobbs, ‘Merica. ¬† ¬†Really.

My 10 years had taught me a lot about bike riding, holidays, Barbies, and roller skates, but very little in the way of how to deal with crippling outsider loneliness. Mrs. Walthall, my fourth grade teacher, with deep red lipstick that bled into the wrinkles just a touch, and a love for the Carpenters (she played their records every Friday for us) still had us bow our heads in prayer at the beginning of class. ¬† I came from a giant brick school built in the 1800s (before New Mexico was even a state), to a single story sprawling/built for tornadoes/recess on a lawn full of goatheads instead of concrete elementary school with people who spoke in full Texan.¬† ¬†I couldn’t understand anyone, literally, and when boys sent me little check yes or no love notes, well-meaning Walthall stood in front of the entire class and said “BOYS, do not ask Laura to be your girlfriend, you are embarrassing her!” and my god if that woman’s words didn’t stick with me through high school.

My social life was over. ¬†It was a sham. ¬†There was nothing that would save me. ¬†So I sat during recess every day (it felt like months…I will guess possibly a week) on an adobe planter and cried my little eyes out. ¬†And then it happened. ¬†One day, like a bad Brady Bunch, a soccer ball came whizzing directly at me. ¬†I caught it – threw it back – and my soon to be new friend Denise Ramirez said “HEY! ¬†Why don’t you come play with us.”

I had just been picked.  To play.   ALL the reindeer games.  And so began my initiation into full badassery.  I became a soccer player.

It began slowly enough – getting to stand in the goalie box with Matt Matthews or Chad Evans, who coached me like no other… no one that came to play was “just a girl”…we were fierce competitors…we were a team… we were the Walthall Wolverines, that field was Sparta, you were going down. ¬†For real.

I would go home every night and kick my soccer ball against the front of our brick house…thwack, thud…thwack, thud… over and over until I found just the right spot on my foot. ¬†I remember one winter, it snowed – the field was fresh, the ball sluggish in the air. ¬†One of the really good guys from the other team (Ms. Isabelle’s class – formidable, hungry) was tearing towards me, the ball in tight, controlled, swift movements. ¬†He thought he’d fake me out. ¬†I dove – butt to the ground, sliding right through his legs, soccer ball in my possession and up into a full run down, pass – score. ¬†I felt like a god that day. ¬† Soccer – sports, athleticism, competition – made me feel alive. ¬†It gave me a closeness to my teammates, my now friends. ¬†All those years ago, those little kids on the playground followed the rule by which we really all should live. ¬†It didn’t matter if I was new, a girl, a Yankee (gasp), it was “can you play?” ¬†…. and if not…”let us see where you fit, let us show you.” ¬† ¬†Those kids are beloved pastors today, rodeo-ers, trainers, sales and marketing staff, rock stars, government employees, government protesters. ¬†Those kids changed my self image in a very positive way and I owe them thanks for that. ¬†The Walthall Wolverines had an end of the year bash at Mrs. Walthall’s home. ¬†We watched Neverending Story and ate orange creamsicle pops and hot dogs. ¬†I held Matt Matthew’s hand (my first ever boy hand hold you guys! ¬†BIG deal. ¬†ūüėČ ¬†) ¬†Walthall didn’t even tell him to stop. ¬†ūüėÄ

Those days on the elementary moonscape soccer field are why today I feel that sports for women gives you a very specific equality and edge in a world essentially run by men. ¬†Ladies – get in there, play, dive in the mud and hold your own. ¬†You’ll find you have so much more inside and you’ll seek and find that in others.

And sometimes you just need to kick a few balls around to get your mojo back.

Go USA this weekend in the FIFA Women’s World Cup 2015!

‚̧ ¬†Thank you ALL for being my very first New Mexican friends, and picking me for your team. ¬†#TheFacebookProject

pics to come.  I promise.

Mrs. Walthall’s 4th Grade Class – a Soccer Love Story.

One hot summer day at the beginning of my Sophomore year of college, I dragged myself into “Masters Algebra” on the NMSU campus. I sat down, flipped open my book, turned to the cute guy sitting next to me (noticed he was wearing a pop bead anklet), and said “Whew it’s hot out! What page are we on today?” Cute guy gave me a once over, grumbled “ugh…i dunno” and I spent the next 55 minutes in that class watching him explain every aspect of Algebra to the super cute blonde girl that sat down next to him wearing a mechanic’s top with her name patched onto her very perky left cup.
That was how I met Jeff Forehand twenty years ago. The universe has a funny way of making sure that people who should know each other get second chances. And boy did Jeff blow his. ¬† I¬†wound up at a Halloween party that Fall, and lo and behold there sat Jeff! He (known as Lloyd) and his friend Scott (known as Stimp) were lurking on a sofa drinking dark beer and I introduced myself – OH YEAH You’re the new girlfriend they said (I had just started dating Holt and was deeply questioning his friend choices)…what is your name? Lori? Jeff and Scott then called me Lori for the next two hours.
Needless to say those two assholes became some of my dearest friends on Earth. I can’t get rid of them. I even tried moving to the other edge of the country.
JEFFREY, is one hell of a character.  Here he is in his natural state:

Jeff

He comes from a family of soccer hooligan boys from Los Alamos – where YES, there really is¬†something in the water – he’s just different enough to be the most interesting man in the world. He doesn’t drink beer at 4 a.m. often, but when he does it is for Man U. He was a history major (Ancient Chinese? i dunno, Japanese is such a prettier history ūüėČ ) who went on to teach in Tuscon (and should teach again!) and then brought his darling daughters to Albuquerque where he carves wood and a future for them.
Jeff bleeds Aggie crimson. He taught me how to drink “the really good beer”…he walked into a party with ¬†a six pack of Newcastle or Guinness, Taddy or Old Speck… he would bring Macanudo cigars and give us sips of some bizarre Russian liquor that his super secret international spy dad brought back from¬†his latest¬†mission. ¬†He has the secret recipe for jungle juice. ¬†He taught me not to cry when politically debating. ¬†I was his wing-man for YEARS…I can’t tell you how many little blondes we hunted and caught together hahaha. Catch and Release Blonde Ambition Tour 1995 – 1998…
Jeff finally sat me down one day and made me an honest wing-man by giving me first peek at an engagement ring and getting my blessing…I should’ve been his best man (did you guys hear that? ¬†That was Scott bristling) ¬†He settled down but in the best of ways and though the wedding of the century ended, he has since shaped into one of the most attentive and wonderful dads that dad-dom can claim. He gives the best foot rubs. ¬†He wears his family’s Scottish kilt. ¬†When he says he loves you he means it. When he says he’ll be there, or do something, he does it. He is my Step-on dance partner. He is every 80’s song when it comes on the radio. He wears a candy-built necklace from his daughter that he will never take off. ¬†He’s one of about five people in the universe that I will pick up a phone and call. ¬†He is a consummate gentleman, and one of my absolute best friends, and even 20 years ago we realized we were just NOT nice people, and probably should stick together.

Today is your birthday, El Jeffe. Happy Happy Happy Birthday. All of us love you very much. And because of that I’m making this your dating profile on Match….kthxbyeeeee…… kidding.

But seriously, ladies…he’s a catch.

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(the patented Jeffrey thumbs up)

Joe Chacon‚Äč and I met at a party at my sister’s apartment in Albuquerque. He was working with her at the UNM bookstore. I’m pretty sure he broke his foot at that party. We really knew how to party back then.
Soon after, as we Williams girls do – Colleen made him her roommate. Forever. They moved to NYC years later and were roommates. They probably are still roommates and just don’t tell people. Because of this, we consider him a legally adopted part of our family. “Brother Joe”, as we call him….(okay we don’t. We call him Cardigan….okay we don’t….Just don’t call him late for dinner!….okay I’m done) is someone I actually cannot imagine my life without. He is the best gift giver to my son – doesn’t that say so much about a person – how thoughtful their gifts are!? (I’m sorry…everyone I’ve ever gifted) He came out to me the way I wish ALL my gay friends would’ve come out to me – he fed me whisky shots at Anodyne and then told me and we hugged it out and then we crashed together at the Beene’s place and sang Madonna’s Vogue until everyone yelled at us to shut up. Actually, that really is how all my gay friends have come out to me, so …thank you.
Joe is a snappy tweedy wingtip dresser.  Debonair.  Classic.

He loves fall.

(that gets it’s own line….see that… no one loves fall as much as Joe. No one.) ¬†He is also one of a handful of people who’s voice and mannerisms I can FEEL reading this post. He has the impossibly irresistible power of forcing you to laugh when he laughs. He is always very very calm…until you put him on the dance floor and then THIS happens:

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(Joe’s dance face! THAT FACE! angry dad)

I’ve been privy by proxy to Joe’s struggles and successes via Colleen, and I don’t know if there is a more thorough study of how to push forward, from the South Valley playground bullies to the educational pursuits leading to John Jay and Forensic Psychology (I mean how cool is that?!), from seeing the worst of society to seeing the best in society, working at Rikers Island, and from the sudden loss of his mother to his own beautiful ability to bring children to see their own parents in prison…Joe’s heart is solid gold. He’s the unofficial Guardian of my sister!
Now, would I have to fight him for Chris Pratt? Yes. But Pratt is married, so Joe and I can peacefully coexist.

I love you to the ending of Mad Men and back, Joe!

‚̧ Thank you for being my Brother Joe. ¬† #TheFacebookProject

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