Oh Fair New Mexico.

Today is the 100th birthday of my lovely home state. So, in its honor, a little "You know you're from New Mexico if..."

Let's see if you hail from the Land of Enchantment:

You buy salsa by the gallon.

Your favorite restaurant has a chile list instead of a wine list. 

You can correctly pronounce Tesuque, Cerrillos, Pojoaque and Cuyumungue.

You have been told by at least one out-of-state vendor that they are going to charge you extra for "international" shipping.

You expect to pay more if your house is made of mud.

You can order your Big Mac with green chile.

Your Christmas decorations include a bunch of sand, candles and 200 paper bags.

You see nothing odd when, in the conversations of the people in line around you at the grocery store, every other word of each sentence alternates between Spanish and English. 

You have license plates on your walls, but not on your car. 

A package of white flour tortillas is a given. You don't need to write it on your shopping list.

Most restaurants you go to begin with "El" or "Los". 

Your other vehicle is also a pick-up truck.

You know your answer when the waitress asks, "Red or green?" and sometimes you may even want "Christmas."

You hated Texans until the Californians moved in.

You are still using the paper license tag that came with your car five years ago.

You have an extra freezer just for green chile.

You think a red light is merely a suggestion.

You believe that using a turn signal is a sign of weakness.

You don't make eye contact with other drivers because you can't tell how well armed they are just by looking.

You think six tons of crushed rock makes a beautiful front lawn.

You have used aluminum foil and duct tape to repair your air conditioner.

You can't control your car on wet pavement.

You wish you had invested in the orange barrel business.

You just got your fifth DWI and got elected to the state legislature in the same week.

Your swamp cooler got knocked off your roof by a dust devil.

You can actually hear the Taos hum.

You know Vegas is a town in the northeastern part of the state.

You are afraid to drive through Mora and Espanola.

You iron your jeans to "dress up".

You don't see anything wrong with drive-up window liquor sales.

Two of your cousins are in Santa Fe, one in the legislature and the other in the state pen.

You know the punch line to at least one Espanola joke.

Your car is missing a fender or bumper.

You have driven to an Indian Casino at 3am because you were hungry.

You're relieved when the pavement ends because the dirt road has fewer pot-holes.

You associate bridges with mud, not water.

You know you will run into at least 3 cousins whenever you shop at Wal-Mart, Sam's or Home Depot.

Tumbleweeds and various cacti in your yard are not weeds. They are your lawn.

If you travel anywhere, no matter if just to run to the gas station, you must bring along a bottle of water and some moisturizer.

Trailers are not referred to as trailers. They are houses. Double-wide trailers are "real" houses.

At any gathering, regardless of size, green chile stew, tortillas, and huge mounds of shredded cheese are mandatory.

Prosperity can be readily determined by the number of horses you own.

A tarantula on your porch is ordinary. A scorpion in your tub is ordinary. A poisonous centipede on your ceiling? Ordinary. A black widow crawling across your bed is terribly, terribly common. A rattlesnake is an occasional hiking hazard. No need to freak out.

Happy birthday, New Mexico. We love, we love you so.