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....  

Run Trail

I took a 4 and a half mile run through the rain this morning on a trail through Fort Campbell that I have never explored before. It was really pretty, and there were a lot of rolling hills which made the run more challenging. 

Campbell has made a lot of improvements to running trails over the last year. There are more than when I first PCS'd here. They have been blacktopped, mile marker posts placed every quarter mile, benches and picnic tables are scattered around. There are dog clean up stations where you can get baggies in case your dog poos on the route. And garbage cans so you don't have to carry poo around with you. They even put in parking lots near "start points" on the trails so you have a reasonable place to leave your vehicle. 

I saw a bunch of deer in the woods today. Most of the Campbell deer give zero shits that you are there. They know when they are on main post, no one is going to shoot them. Smart little guys. 

I wish the trails had been like this sooner. I hope Fort Wainwright has a similar trail system set up for me to utilize in weather that doesn't include feet of snow. 

32!

Earlier this month I turned 32 years old (happy birthday to me). 32 is a most glorious age for me. I entered a new age bracket on the Army Physical Fitness Test. Now that I am in the 32-36 age group, the standard to achieve 100% in all three events has dropped significantly. This means, by not improving my physical capability at all, I will score higher on the test. What's not to like about that?

I took my Fall PT test this morning.

Although I actually did 3 fewer push-ups and 3 fewer sit-ups than my last PT test in May, I scored higher. Ahh, the glory of getting older. Seriously, who wouldn't love this!?

Unfortunately, I was shooting to score at least 90% in each event. I've never done that before. I though I would this time due to my old age. But those push-ups! 88% was all I could muster this morning. 2 push-ups. 2 measly stupid push-ups and I would have scored 90%! Grrr! 

I suppose I could retake it. A more likely scenario is I will bitch about it for 6 months and then when I take the Spring PT test, I will put more effort forward to prepare myself. 

Yay, 32!

Hard Work, Work

The facility I work at on Fort Campbell does not employ Privates. In fact, we don't have any E-4 and below at all. Everyone is an NCO or a contracted civilian. In the absence of Privates, I have relived many of my extra duty days doing tasks a Staff Sergeant doesn't usually do anymore. 

I have never pushed a lawn mower more in my Army career than I have over the last summer. It's so ridiculously hot here in the summer: not ideal forced lawn care weather. I have scrubbed more toilets and taken more trash bags to the dumpster than I can recall. Sweeping, mopping... you name it, I'm doing it. 

Today's big task: police call.

I found something's skull during the police call.

I have nearly 10 years in the Army and have had one field grade article 15 but I have yet to learn how to run a buffer and buff a floor. This is a point of pride for me. The way things are looking around here, though, I could be learning this valuable Army skill soon.

Its a bit humbling doing all this work that is generally reserved for Army Privates. We have a good crew out here, and we take it in stride. But I won't be really sad when I go back to a supervisory role.