Friday, February 18

Abe, George...You done good..

Originally uploaded by IC.
so I'm going to sleep in this weekend. And blissfully not come in on a Monday. Thanks boys for starting the country and leading us through a civil war. It was very kind of you.

Oh and Martha and Mary Todd, we all know it's actually you we should be thanking.

P.S. yeah, this picture has nothing to do with anything, but ain't it nice to look at?

Tuesday, February 15

Quote of the year...(until the next juicy one)

"Lindsay Lohan is way more wild than I was when I was her age. Don't put me with her; I don't want to be dragged into her s---."
--Tara Reid

As reported here in The Times-Picayune c/o

I'm worried...but what's new?

So after all the many many articles, news interviews, and well..blogs about losing your job because of your blog, I'm concerned. Not that I think I've blogged about work much but since it is a major part of my life I'm certain it pops in every once in awhile (btw, y'know what happened at the office the other day..OMG!). So I can't decide if this even is a problem because I can't have that many people who read this blog (btw, if you do..kindly make yourself known..I bite..but mr.jack seems to like it) but it seems like company spies are EVERYWHERE and what if by chance they peruse these virtual pages? *shrug* So I'm not sure. I'm tempted to ditch mrs.jack and go in another arena..say married blogs. Since marriage is another big thing in my life. Not to mention I seem to enjoy it while I'm not all that good at it. (Translated: His V-day gifts SUCKED! Sorry hun!) But I think to give my readers (are there any??) a fair 'n balanced version of matrimony I needs to have his voice as well. So I'm poking, prodding, and threatening more horrible VD gifts in hopes of bending him to my whim as to keep me gainfully employed and blogging.

Friday, February 11

On speaking terms with CUTE...

I've been losing weight with Weight Watchers for about almost a year. I'm proud and shocked to say I've lost 40 pounds so far. So getting used to a new way of eating and incorporating exercise into my life has obviously been successful. What's taking more time is getting used to the results of healthy eating and exercising. While not all bad it's really wierd to feel hard, rigid bones where once was soft, cushiony fat. It makes scratching yourself in public very entertaing to watch.

For example the butt scratch. Before I had a pretty average looking hiney and I was used to it. In fact I figured my hiney would always be lumpy, bumpy and kinda liked the cellulite valley and mountains. Like the Grand Canyon--only flesh toned. But on some random day I reached for a good hiney scratch and felt something odd, smooth, and firm back there where soft and plushy had been the name of the game. I'll admite that I am a hypocondriac in the sense that anything odd, strange, or new that happens with/to my body instantly leads me to the assumption that it's either cancer or some made up disease (which I can cleverly imagine--e.g. blood poisoning). This time I opted for cancer, butt cancer. I knew it must be true because what could possibly be back there other than that? Mr. Jack (science & anatomy guru) correctly diagnosed my butt cancer as a tailbone. Oops! Who knew I had one? So now every once in awhile I'll turn around and scratch my tailbone just cause I can and cause I never could before.

This new, changing body invites all sorts of discoveries. Such as 1) My breasts are huuuge. 2) Seriously, huuuuuuuuuge. 3) I do in fact have a skeletal frame. 4) My face isn't puffy naturally. 5) I can look cute from time to time. The last of these new epiphanys is the hardest for me to accept. Sure, sure I've always said "Oh, I'm kinda cute" and revered myself as "Supporting friend attractive" but now from time to time I catch a glimpse of this person in the reflection of a shop window and I think "geez, she's kinda cute...who is that girl?" And honestly, I don't know who she is and why she's standing in my shoes. But I like her and even if it takes some time to warm up to letting her in.

Giving me access?

You sure you want to do this now?

Wednesday, February 9

Happy New Year...again.

I like Chinese new year. I like it even more because I'm a sheep and I like sheep. I have a gmail account that announces my love of sheep with every reply. But what I really like is the whole..."so I got a lil zealous on Jan. 1 with the whole resolution thing...maybe I'll just..."

It's like NYE part II, except this one is better than the first and it features less overexposed celebrities who are "still US's youngest teenager (with a heart attack under his belt)." I think the Chinese got it right, NYE is about food, joy, good luck, and red envelopes with money! So enjoy your year of the cock. *snicker*...

Tuesday, February 8

Office Zen

Logic can not penetrate stubborness, grasshoppa. Do not try and offer logic and truth for both will only chip away at the facade. Just offer up humility and agree that you know nothing and will always know nothing regardless of training, education, or ability. For within such humility you will find the strength to go home and return again between 8-5 on days Monday through Friday. And if you are unable to center yourself and find such strength, fake a cough, call in sick, and watch reruns of S&TC while sitting on the couch.

Monday, February 7

Eggs are lil bombs that implode in my stomach...

Friday we were running late. Not surprising since I was already feeling sluggish from the beginning of spring/beginning of my allergy assault. (No, I don't take Claritin. Yes, I know I could but I choose to complain instead. Making my own problems by hand, everyday!) Anyway, I'm dreading having to leave my cozy bed complete with black furry love muffin kitty at my feet but I know that I can beat through this day. (I have a serious issue with not realizing my limitations and then blaming myself when I can't do everything perfect even with a 101 degree fever. These problems -- handmade, baby!) So we leave -- late. And I'm hungry cause my dreary allergy hazed self thought about breakfast but didn't really_think_about it. And all that sounds good right now is a Sausage McBiscuit from McD's but since Jourdan just had his 6-month review and got dinged for being late, I don't want to cause him any trouble. I'll just eat at the MU. Get a bagel, some milk, some food poisoning..maybe.

But I'm really craving that Sausage McBiscuit crack. I mean really. Like I can taste the fat, gooey sausage patty in my mouth and I want it. So I figure MU has got to have something with meat and bread. So I look..and I see the lil Mexican stand and I think "Hey...they have a grill..maybe??" And they do..they have fluffy scrambled eggs, crisp bacon bits (not the processed salad type -- though at this point..I can't say no), and potato looking stuff. Oooh and a tortilla!'s no Sausage McBiscuit but it looks like it might curb me til lunch (screw the fact it's my day's worth of WW points!).

So I get one that's prepared and it feels warm enough so I'm blissfully happy now. I have food, I've dropped off our month-old netflix videos (so that no stupid human can steal them -- in theory) and I'm headed back to work -- but I'm not there yet. First bite is good, second is okay and by the time I get half through I'm just not digging this burrito. So I toss it (oh I'll be tossing it for the next few days!) And a little bit later I don't feel better. Usually by 10 my allergies will lift until about 5 p.m. when they start round two. But here I am at 11 feeling rather icky. Ickier than this morning. I'm figuring my allergies are in for the long haul and since I don't really work much anyway, husband takes me home. Boss tells me stories of how her children are much sicker when they are sick..which seems like never..but when they are..they do a better job. (Mental note: die at work as to be sicker than boss' kids.)

So we get home and right there at the edge of the bed is a lil lazy black love muffin and we curl up to sleep, and sleep, and sleep. I wake up at 5 p.m. and my stomach feels crappy, really crappy...but I'm figuring it's sinus drainage. Darn allergies! HA HA! But no! This sick stomach, gassy feeling keeps me up until 5 A.M. when I finally pass out from tiredness and wake up 4 hours later. I'm sick at my stomach_still_. It's like this balloon of nasty air is filling and expanding my lil digestion sack and some lil bomb is stuck to the floor. Some heavy scrambled egg BOMB! Course I don't know it's food poisoning..I still am thinking allergies. (I'm not bright people) So I sleep..or at least try to..but can't. And so goes until my husband finally asks why I'm burbing more than usual (Note: It took him practically ALL day of listening to me burb nasty foul rotting egg gas before it became "more than usual" -- I am SUCH a lady). Dr. Jourdan makes the brave and correct assumption that I don't have allergies, I have poisoned myself with lil egg bombs. And what I need is water and lots of it.

(Side note: I hate water. I detest water. I would rather drink blood than water. Not that I'm a vampire but I'm pale enough to be Goth anytime I want. But as I was rambling I seriously hate water and IF I were a vampire, water would be my sunlight.)

So the idea of water isn't too appealing and I say no, thanks. But Dr. Jourdan knows since that he has been poisoned him with raw meat pot pies that water it must be. So he brings in part of the Atlantic Ocean, bottled by Arrowhead, and tells me.."drink." So I do while I'm eating some rice. The rice goes down easy in fact everything does except that innocent, clear, crystal water. It hits the egg bombs like, well a bomb. And I double over in pain. "Drink more" I hear and I'm thinking "Are you nuts? I'm not worth that much insurance money..c'mon." But he's got that I'll shove that bottle down your throat look so I drink a fourth of the Atlantic and cringe and cry as the egg bombs meat their match. Rinse and repeat for the next 24 hours.

Sunday afternoon I smell like sweat, my breath is foul (and after burping for hours on end I am a new expert on all that is foul), and I feel better. Not well since I still have the shakes but better. I have indeed made it out the other side and life is freaking good!

So today I'm at work and I'm not happy (I'm at work...what'd you expect) but I'm not suffering from lil nuclear egg sabotage so I'm feeling FUCKING FANTASTIC. And that's what I learned this weekend, everything (even a sucky job) is better after you've been poisoned. I highly suggest eating at questionable restaurants before going through with attempted suicide -- it might change your mind. It might not but at least it'll give you a "thinking" period which you hug your new porcelin best friend. So all in all the place to eat where I work did try to kill me, but it didn't succeed because if anything here is going to take me out -- it's going to be the management.

Wednesday, February 2

It's On...Again..

So I'm back in love, with my job-the very job that I vehemently detested just last week. I swear I am either A) a person who doesn't hold grudges (which I know not to be true) or B) I have the emotional memory of a goldfish (Oooh..look that pink castle is new...2 seconds later...oooh what a pretty new castle!)

Don't worry I am rolling my eyes with you. I mean thankfully I didn't barge into my boss' office and yell "I QUIT!" But how good of a relationship could this be if I'm so quickly drawn back in? I distinctly recall having the "i love you, i hate you" feelings when I was at the "aforementioned well paying job in hell" so is it me? Or is this just the way working at a job is? Do you sometimes love it and want to buy it flowers after a nice day and the next day want to rip it's beating heart out with your hands?

I mean should I really look for another job if this one is good enough? Sure it's not something I'm exactly happy to do but I'm not upset about it that much. Where is that line in the sand for me? I know I won't be here forever but shouldn't I be here longer than a year? *shrugs*

I am so not sure but I'll enjoy the ride for the time being.

Tuesday, February 1

Maya, the other woman

Maya, the other woman
Originally uploaded by mrsjack.
Isn't it every husband's dream to have his wife be into another woman? And isn't it every wife's nightmare that your hubby finds another chic? Well mr.jack and I are living our own personal dream/nightmare since the "other woman" joined our lives. Every night we visit her and curse at her but we love the results. Just last week, we started "playing" Yourself Fitness on the Xbox and Maya has got us whipped in "better" shape. I am SO not a gym person but I can somehow work with this whole Maya thing and I even (sssh..don't tell) look forward to our time together. I think secretly my hubby enjoys it too. So while it might not be a threesome in the typical sense, for us another woman in the relationship is healthy.