Seriously, Jacque?

… thank you, I’ll be here all week. Try the veal.

In what I’m now dubbing “The Season of Jacque,” I decided to do a few of those things that I’ve always wanted to do, but for whatever reason, I never took the time, effort, or initiative to do them.

If you’re playing along at home, go ahead and cross “visit a chiropractor” off your list.

From what I gather, you’re in one of two schools of thought on chiropractors.

They’re this:

Wait. That’s actually a terrible example. Sorry.

What I was trying to say the overwhelming majority of folks see chiropractors in one of two ways. They’re either …

Or they’re …

(… Anyway, uh, so we still feelin’ good about this … uh … 32-piece set here?)

So, after waffling back and forth for a while, I decided to make the call. For the past several months, I’ve been sporadically coming down with what I’d describe as actual, crippling nausea and headaches. This time, I went full-on granola and decided to see if something natural could help me.

After a few physical tests, I learned that my jaw is a little out of whack and my C1 and C2 vertebrae aren’t in alignment. I also don’t seem to have a natural curve in my upper spine anymore. I’m honest. I have terrible posture. I’m Shrek-ish, so I’ve spent the better part of 34 years not standing up straight. That’s apparently come back to haunt me. It’s sort of pulled on all sorts of other things, and according to the doctor (and the handy chart on the wall) this may be why I’m getting the headaches like I am and why my shoulder muscles are perpetually tensed.

Something I was completely unprepared for: The stomach test. I learned that there are two kinds of valves on the stomach, naturally — one at the top and one at the bottom. Mine don’t seem to be working after a pressure test that made me feel like I was going to cry. I got sent home with food to avoid for two weeks and some chlorophyll and magnesium. (Legitimately chlorophyll. Like what plants have.)

I’m now 10 hours-plus from when I left my visit. My entire shoulder and neck musculoskeletal system hurt. I did get a pretty sweet ice pack to bring home.

Something else I was completely unprepared for: Have any of you had any of that electrical muscle stimulation? I got these four pads put on my shoulder muscles and it sort of felt like this:

Seriously. This was one of the most uncomfortable experiences of my life. More uncomfortable than having to sit with my Dad through an episode of “The Doctors” dedicated to female bodily functions. I noticed, though, when it was over that I actually felt more relaxed in my shoulders. That relaxing has turned to ouch. Just plain ouch.

The verdict: Jury hasn’t returned. I plan to go back, at least a few more times, to see if whatever magic he’s working can actually help with the headaches. Definitely keeping an open mind.

Bonus: As I was leaving today, I got two handouts on how to become a vegan. I liked the first because of all of the recipes and restaurant suggestions. The second was awful because it was one of those “This is what your lunch looks like going to the slaughterhouse” booklets. Boo.

Double bonus: I’m going to commit to 31 days of writing for October. BLOGTOBER! (I just booed myself so you don’t have to do it.) Because of the Pirates distraction, just wrapped this one in time. (1/31)

(If you don’t know the joy of deleting this program from a computer, I sort of feel sorry for you.)

As America’s Champion of Procrastination, instead of writing three brief papers, here we go …

P reminded me this morning that I’d neglected updating anything, because, let’s just be honest, I’m the busiest unemployed person I know. I wish I had all day to watch “Maury” and catch up on TiVo’d episodes of “Judge Mathis.” But, with two classes this term and various other responsibilities around the state, I’m still on the road a fair amount.

In six days, it will have been one month since Death by Polycom. In some ways, it’s gone faster than I thought it would. In others, I feel like I haven’t been working in years. The first few days, it sort of felt like a mini-vacation, and we’d all be back on Monday. And then Monday came and went. And the next Monday. And the next. We’re not going back. We’re not going back any sooner than Larry Bird is walking through that door, fans.

People ask a lot of well-meaning questions when you’re in my situation. What’s kind of chuckle-worthy is my particular situation — within 140 days, I lost my mother and my job. (I have a really twisted sense of humor. So did my mother.) I feel like those people sort of approach me gingerly, hoping they don’t say the wrong thing.

You can’t say the wrong thing. I promise. It’s not possible to say something wrong here. Quite simply, it is what it is.

But, on we go to something fun … It’s finally football time again. I’ve been waiting for you, football. I’ve been waiting since it was clear there was going to be no return trip to a Sweet 16 followed by a depressing trip to a sad downtown Hooters location.

Last weekend, we traveled to Louisville for some football. I was really looking forward to this one because our group of friends hadn’t been together in a while, and for this game, a proper tailgate was planned.  Some of the highlights:

* Saturday night killstorms. Louisville is the kind of place that has an occasional grain silo in the landscape, which just tells me it’s the kind of place that would throw some extra fun into your weekend with an F-3.

* Sunday football games are a great idea … if you shopped ahead. Things nobody bothered to research: You can’t buy any sort of alcohol in Kentucky until 1 p.m. Oh, and that time you thought you saved by grocery shopping in Indiana? Don’t put tailgate drinks on that list because they sell NOTHING on Sunday. Lesson learned the hard way — in both cases. Because I had some spare time the day before while Rob was doing radio, I ended up being somewhat of a champion because I’d bought enough mini bottles for the entire parking lot, and when we arrived at the lot around noon, my fortitude was rewarded.

* Cleverly named seating areas are just that. Cleverly named. Our tickets were in the UPS Flight Deck. After climbing the maybe 100 stairs to get there, I can see why it’s called the “Flight Deck.” You could give a pilot a hi-five as he makes the descent into the UPS airport. It’s the very top row of the stadium. Also, at this point the sun was setting, and I could feel myself baking. Direct sunlight and a ginger don’t mix. Any guilt I’d had about any number of bratwurst I’d consumed immediately went away after that hike. Also, I learned that I have an iron bladder. Never, ever underestimate the ability to hold it when you know the trip back to your seat is not worth any relief you’d feel going to pee.

Regardless of the outcome, which was dismal, it was still good to be back to doing something fun, and something normal. I love road trips. I love seeing new things or trying a new place to eat or drink. I love the little idiosyncrasies of different places I visit.

The rest of the week was spent getting back into gear for class, and then Friday …

I resumed my outdoorsiness by drinking on a patio with a couple of friends in the afternoon. It looked just like that, oddly enough. Capped off the night with high school football, because, why not.

But, Saturday. … Saturday was where things really came back around. It was time. Again.

Good to be back, Athens. It’s been too long since I’ve seen you from this vantage point. I’m looking forward to the adventures we’ll have this year.

But, yeah, other than the day I taught Dad how to use an iPad and a few days of classes, that’s been pretty much it.

I miss working. I really do. I really would go back the minute it was an option. Maybe, though, just maybe I’m supposed to take this time to learn a little more about life, and what I want it to be in this new normal. If that’s the case, I’m OK with that.

This morning, I got up early, straightened my hair, put on a dress and drove down to the unemployment office to be there when they started processing claims.

I got there 15 minutes early, and there was already a line. While I was waiting, I noticed there had to have been something like 50 of these kinds of motivational pictures along the walls.

Except theirs weren’t Demotivators.

They actually were trying to inspire you. It looked like a Successories catalog had thrown up.

So, because I’m a real jerk, I immediately thought of this one:

… and less than 10 minutes later, before the clock even struck 9 a.m., I was back in the car and headed back to the couch. (In time for the early run of “Maury” on local Parkersburg TV!) I also was not signed up for unemployment. You win again, life. Even when every day is Saturday, Monday is unkind.

Stuff nobody tells you when you unexpectedly lose your job: It’s not where you live, kids. It’s where you work. My office was in Pennsylvania, so I got to spend some time talking with America’s second-favorite Commonwealth. I popped right up in their system. After a three minute online application, I’m set.

… which is just something so strange to think, much less type.

Blank canvas or something? The perfect chance to find a new beginning? Or, the perfect chance to just go to Panera every day and set up? Write, send out resumes, make connections. I think I just have to get out of the house. I love my house, and I love my couch, and I love how much I’m actually at home now, but “Monday through Friday Me” isn’t adjusting to being a lady of leisure. It feels like an itchy wool sweater.

More stuff nobody tells you when you unexpectedly lose your job: They really send the B-team out for the day shift on Food Network. Woof. Talking about shows that were last fresh in 2010. The Land of Failed Audience Surveys. Except Ina. Ina was in the rotation. Today’s entire episode focused on cheese. You’re welcome.

At any rate, I managed to learn not one, but two things today. Banner day.

Regarding my previous post, my favorite Frappy Hour companion Mike tells me that in America’s favorite Commonwealth, it’s illegal to serve alcohol in an establishment without a kitchen. So, if i open up my Easy Mac and microwave buffet, it won’t be there. Must be a kitchen.

Guess it wasn’t a wasted day after all, eh?

“It may be that your whole purpose in life is simply to serve as a warning to others.”

In case you’re just joining us …

In the last five months, my mother died following what should have been outpatient surgery and I lost my job. A job I loved. A job that by most accounts I did very well.

For those of you keeping score at home, that’s two pretty hefty kicks to the entertainment center in less than 150 days. The way I see it, everybody’s just lucky I haven’t knocked over a 7-Eleven (in the style of H.I. McDunnough) or joined some roving chapter of an ill-tempered motorcycle gang. Or the circus. Circus is a real possibility. I haven’t ruled that one out yet.

So, welcome to this adventure. I wish I could tell you I knew where this was going, but I don’t. I’m just going to talk about it.