Little Jerk

Every morning I am attacked at work. Assaulted. It is quite the hostile work environment. Because of this asshole:

I get it. I know what you're thinking. He's just a bird. A little song bird. What could possibly be so bad about this little cardinal?

Well, for starters, he's a punk. He attacks my vehicle every morning. He lands all over my car. He searches for weak points and tries to make entry. I can tell he's talking shit the whole time. He fluffs up and pecks at the glass. He's a huge bully.

And he's there every morning carrying on like this.

It's not just me. This bird has it out for all the employees at the MSTC. He's become quite the topic of conversation at work. He has yet to attack anyone's person. He sticks strictly to vehicular attacks. I sometimes wonder what his plans exactly are if he were to ever get into my car. 

Just what is this little jerk capable of?? I hope I never find out. 

Friend of the Year

I've been walking my good friend Tracy's dogs for her while she is in Drill Sergeant School. Every Sunday I go over to her house and pick them up from her mom and take them on a 4 mile walk through the back wooded area of Fort Campbell. My job is to wear them out. 

The dogs are two giant and beautiful German Shepherds. One thing I didn't know about this particular breed is that they are very vocal. And when I say vocal, I mean these dogs howl. They are so excited to go on these walks with me that they just scream in the car the whole ride out there. Yodeling and barking, and jumping from the front seat to the back seat. Paws on the dashboard. Accidentally rolling down windows and shifting the car into neutral while I'm driving. Barking right in my ear. I literally drive with my a finger in my right ear to try to protect my eardrum from these dogs.

They are so excited. And it's flattering. But I really feel like I should be winning Friend of the Year for doing this for 10 weeks! Thank God I'm not transporting these dogs in my own car. Tracy's mom lets me borrow her Jeep.

Once we actually get out onto the trails they are wonderful. They mind me. They don't run off. They don't need to be on a leash. I love them. On the way home, they sit quietly and look out the window. It's just the ride there... its a three ring circus. 

Today's walk was in the snow. It was so beautiful. I took the dogs back onto a range I've never personally been on. Special Forces train back there, and since it's President's Day weekend, I figured no one would be training. I was right. It's a nice MOUT site. I liked the change of scenery, and I think the dogs actually did too. 

Only a few more weeks walking the dogs until Tracy comes home. I'm going to miss the walks. 

But not the drive. 

8 Miles

I set a goal to run 8 miles this morning. 

You see, the bigger goal is to run the Nashville Rock'n'Roll Half Marathon in April. So I'm going to train for it. Train better than I did for the last half marathon that I did in Egypt. To train for that, I ran 4 miles a lot of times and complained a lot. The experience of the actual 13.1 miles was miserable, to say the least. Because I wasn't really prepared. And it's so damn hot in Egypt. But mostly, I wasn't prepared.

So as I was driving out to the area I was going to begin my run, I started to talk myself down. The usual, well maybe I'll just do 6. Or if I just do 4 that's better than nothing. I do that because I hate the feeling of failure, and if I set my sites low, then I can't be too disappointed. I think the Army has trained me to never get my hopes up high and to aim low. Isn't that terrible?

I started running out in the back 40 of Fort Campbell with the plan of 8 miles, but the bail out option of 6. I figured I'd see how I felt at 3 miles and make a decision then.

Well 3 miles went by and I felt fantastic! So I ran 4 and turned around for a total of 8. I killed those 8 miles, too. NO WALKING. And no complaining. There wasn't any complaining because I was alone, but I didn't even do any mental complaining. 

My average time was around 9 and a half minutes a mile. My two fastest miles were 5 and 6. I ran those in around 8 and a half minutes per mile. It felt so good! I actually felt like I could have gone further. I am confident I will destroy the half marathon in April.

Goal (unaltered) complete. 

Viva Los Tacos

Today was tattoo day! I got off work early and James and I went to Nashville to see our tattoo buddy Matt. He blocked off his day for us so we could both get some work done. And I might have gotten the raddest tattoo ever today. EVER.

He's amazing. Viva Los Tacos!

Any one who knows me even a little bit knows my love for Mexican food-- especially tacos. So what better to get than a jalapeno wielding tacos? I couldn't think of anything better either. 

This tattoo is on my left arm just under my armpit. The skin is really soft and tender there. I managed to bruise all the way around the tattoo. My arm is also really swollen in this picture. It sort of makes me looked ripped, but it also borderlines looking really flabby and fat. So I thought I'd throw it out there that I am, in fact, swollen. And neither of the other two.

Bitch skin can't handle tattooing for 2 hours!

I love this tattoo. I'm pretty sure the jalapeno needs a name. And I still have plenty more space on the my arm to get more Mexican inspired tattoos. I just need to get a move on it before we PCS!

RBF

All my life I have heard, "I didn't like you until I got to know you," or, "I thought you were a bitch when we first met." Almost everyone I've ever met has said something along those lines to me. 

I'm an observer. When I'm with new people I usually sit back for a while and watch so I can get a good feeling of the kinds of people I am dealing with. If I busted out as Weird Outspoken Jackie right from the jump, I'd either hurt feelings or put my foot in my mouth and embarrass myself. So I tend to learn whats kosher before I open up and act like myself.

Unfortunately, I have a condition called Resting Bitch Face, or RBF, that makes me look like a total condescending bitch while I am observing. I might not even be thinking anything bitchy, but my face... my face just screams otherwise. 

While my mom and dad were visiting for Christmas, my mom gave me an old photo of myself at a yard sale:

My RBF game was strong even as a little girl! 

I've been nicknamed RBF at my current job. Everyone said they weren't sure about me when I first started working there because of my face and silence. I'm no longer silent-- they get all my weirdness on full. But my face remains the same. I'll have to show everyone this photo so they can see that it's just how my face looks and has always looked. 

It's a serious condition I can't control!

Christmas Tree

We put up our Christmas tree on Thanksgiving. I know. I know. Normally I wouldn't do such a thing. A clear division of holidays is something I normally like. But I got a new tree this year. It's my first fake tree (I think... did I have a fake one when I lived in Washington? I don't recall...). I got a tall, skinny, trendy tree. 

I love my tree. It's pre-lit. So I didn't have to screw around with strands of lights. The best part of it being pre-lit is that is hasn't lit my house on fire yet. I haven't unplugged the tree since I first plugged it in on Thanksgiving. The bulbs aren't even a little warm. So three cheers for not burning down my house, new Christmas tree.

I also got a Fort Campbell ornament this year. I thought it was really cute. And now I wish I had one from the other two bases I've been stationed: Fort Lewis and Fort Bragg. I'm sure the good old internet can remedy that. 

The dogs have been good and left the tree alone, to include all the gifts that are piled up underneath. 

Only 6 more days until Christmas. 

My Family

Gertie loves her Daddy.

Picasso lives for his Momma.

For whatever reason the stereo type of Momma's Boys and Daddy's Girls rings true even with dogs. Love my family.

Xmas Decorations

I don't usually get too excited about Xmas. I don't usually decorate too much. But this year, I can't wait to put up my tree and get lights on the front porch. I know, Thanksgiving has yet to pass. And James' words of wisdom that we need to celebrate one holiday at a time have made me refrain from putting up the tree (which is new and pre-lit and I can't wait to see it).

While James was at work today I cheated a little bit and put up lights on our front porch. I couldn't help myself. While I was at Wal-Mart earlier today I saw a light up raccoon and it spoke to me. Not literally, of course. But I couldn't say no to the weirdness of a light up raccoon wearing a Santa hat. I didn't have a choice really. I had to put it up today.

So this is my weird raccoon:

With the flash on, you can see my weird metal french bulldog that is always on the front porch regardless of season:

I think I'm going to get the metal frenchie a Santa hat to wear. Just to add to the weirdness that is my front porch. The day after Thanksgiving, my Xmas tree is going up. #sorrynotsorry  

Military Ball

My unit had it's annual Military Ball yesterday evening. Yes, that made the Ball on a Thursday. Attendance at the Ball earned you a day off the next day. But I don't work for the unit-- I am borrowed military manpower (BMM) and they still had daily operations to conduct on Friday. No biggie. I asked for a late start (0900) so I could try to sleep off the copious amount of booze I knew I would consume at the Ball.

And I did not disappoint. 

I am glad that we took our photo before I got completely hammered. But I wish someone would have told me I looks 105 years old with my shawl on. I would have removed it for the photo. Since no one informed me, I absolutely hate the photo and I won't make the Internet look at it. 

Look at this instead!

Completely hammered I did get though. I made it through the receiving line to greet my Battalion Commander and Battalion Command Sergeant Major sober enough. The grog ceremony was memorable. But after I drank the grog, it was all down hill. I sort of recall dinner. James had ham on his plate and the mashed potatoes were off the hook. That's really all I can say about dinner. 

Me and my battle, Tracy

We had to leave before 2130 (9:30 pm). I told James it was time to go because it was time to vomit and I did not want to vomit at the event venue in a $200 dress. I would much prefer to vomit in the privacy of my own home in Nike shorts and a hoodie. Which is exactly what I did. Oh there was so much vomiting, 

And so much working the next day. 0900 was not late enough. I was pretty much worthless at work today. The Ball was fun though (from my booze hazed recollection). 

Fall Doggie Photo Shoot

I got out the good camera today and tried to take pictures of the frenchies. Picasso is more cooperative all around when it comes to things like this. He doesn't mind wearing ridiculous sweaters, and he has no problem standing somewhere and looking thoughtfully off into the distance. Gertie, on the other hand, was embarrassed to wear her sweater and just wanted to eat grass. 

Out of the 85 pictures I took, here are a few winners:

Maybe we will try again at Christmas....