What's my age again?

I have this feeling, real or not, that a lot of people find me standoffish. I think that it’s because I refuse to get entangled in the daily office American Idol chatter or personal discussions related to the lancing of boils. I’m really not that standoffish, nor am I unconcerned with the well being of others, but I just don’t like inserting my self in to other peoples’ conversations – and I’ve learned not to ask questions unless I, a.) already know the answer or b.) have an exit strategy on standby.

This is not where I was going, but there’s a guy in our office that can’t stand to be in the break room, the bathroom, or the hall with some one without saying something. I passed him in the hall a couple of weeks ago and he was carrying some files in one hand. He looked at me, looked at the files, looked back at me and said, “More files good.” Yep. Hall talk bad.

Monday of this week he saw me leaving with my running clothes on and he asked if I was going running. “Yes. It’s too nice to be inside”, or some such, was my reply. The next day, when I ran in to him in the break room, he asked, “You finish running?” No, no I’m still going…

Anyway, I think where I was headed is that I don’t make a practice of inserting myself in to a conversation. I rarely eavesdrop on purpose – unless I think that I can try out a new one liner or glean some Waffle House Wisdom – and I rarely gossip because, well, I just don’t. I’ve decided that most things are really not any of my business.

Some one in the local insurance association that I belong – the Chapter o’ Dorks, if we have to call it something – was telling another dork about her new boyfriend. Like me, the girl telling the story is 36-years old. Based on the paragraphs above, I should have just buried my chin in to my chest and concentrated on the chicken on a bed of something that is always the offering at The Club. In describing her boyfriend, though, she said, “He’s my age. He’s 40.” I think I startled them both with my reaction.

No, no, no ma’am. He’s not your age. That would make him my age, and I am not 40.

Now, I’m not disgusted by 40. I’m not afraid of 40. Given the option of turning the big 4 OH or filling in the second half of “Jammy 1970 - ____”, I’ll take 40. Visually speaking, I think that 42 is a better looking number than 36, 37, 38, 39, 40 and 41, but I’m in no hurry to get there.

Let’s face it, unless you want to be President (QUIZ TIME: What is the minimum age for the President?), after you turn 21 you have all the rights and privileges thereunto appertaining adulthood. We could really stop counting. The end.

That really wasn’t a good article. I’m sorry. Despite her kind comments, I’m still feeling a little pressure from MarshaMarshaMarsha. (Like Page Six, I will take your money in exchange for not writing about you.)

Here’s a little bonus. While I get off of them pretty easily and rather frequently, I’ve never seen a bandwagon on to which I was afraid to hop. So, I’ve decided that I’d like a pair of designer jeans. I’ve vowed, however, not to purchase said jeans until I get back down to at least 170 pounds. There. It’s in writing for the world to see. No going back now. If you see me in my GAP Easy Fits, you’ll know that I haven’t reached my goal. Or I got off the bandwagon.

Ahhh, confession. It’s good for the soul. So is the weekend. Have a nice one.

Easy Parenting 101

From MSNBC.com:

“Paris Hilton’s mom was wonderfully embracing to me. You know, you can’t blame parents for kids, and Paris is a really smart girl, and she’s come really far,” Dina Lohan (Lindsey's mom) said. “They’re the American dream. They’re the Trumps of the little world, these kids.”

First - huh?

Second - Absolutely right! 19 years from now, if Jack's snorting coke, dropping acid, showing the world his bat and balls, and has flunked out of AA three times, y'all don't let that reflect on me as a parent. We tried to take him to Sunday School, but he kept getting kicked out. Kids...whatchagonnado?

Third - "the Trumps of the little world, these kids" is absolutely classic. And what a wonderful little world it is...absent all reality and responsibility.

I've got to turn up the heat a little. MarshaMarshaMarsha has moved up to #2 on Karly's blog links. Blogger speed dial, if you will.

I've been swamped at work, though. I had a meeting today with people that are about 8 times smarter than me. These people know the names of Abraham Maslow's parents. Very stressful, because as you're doing your presentation, they're thinking of the deepest most remote question that they can ask. You can say, "I'll get back to you on that", but it really doesn't help you any. You better know your subject, and you better know what they know, or what they want to know, about your subject and how your subject interplays with everyone else's subject. There were tasty chocolate-caramel-walnut cookies, though, so it was worth it.

I like being around people that are smarter than me, which is good because it happens just about every time I'm in the presence of someone else.

In other news, writing the article for the journal is a lot harder than I thought it would be, primarily because it's an academic journal, not an editorial, so I can't just write whatever I want and pass it off as fact. "Britney is Bat$hit crazy", while 100% accurate, is not something that I can attach a reference to...well, other than britneysbat$hitcrazy dot com...but I don't know how scientific that is.

You kicked up the leaves, but the magic is lost...
Because you had a bad day
You're taking one down
You sing a sad song just to turn it around.

Sleep tight with that running through your heads.

MAIL CALL!!!

Hey, we haven't read any actual reader mail lately. Let's take a look and see what we've got.

JRod wrote:
"Natalie and Harper and Jen are now loyal blog readers. Don't make fun of any of them."

Yes sir.

Okay, I was kidding, but what about Natalie could I possibly make fun of? Oh, besides her choice of boyzfriend???? Oh yes I DID!!!

Seriously, I realize this isn't like The Drudge Report or anything, but there are several people who check in semi-regularly and are gracious enough to read whatever nonsense I've posted. I don't say this enough, but "thank you" to each of you who stop by and spend a little time each week. Just so you know, I make it a rule not to make fun of any one except myself and, sometimes, Brittany Spears - but never innocent people that just wander in to the Shack. I want everyone to feel welcome and appreciated here, even those of you that are Auburn fans, or that date Auburn fans, or that may not be what I would call very attractive.

Crix wrote:
"All Jammy writes about on his blog are olives and rainbows!"

Dude, that's so surreal.

You know what I would like to see? A rainbow made of different shades of olives. And at the end of the rainbow, I think that there will be a pot of Grey Goose martini.

That's all I've got for today. CU L8R.

Okay, that's enough

I'm not a smart person. Yes, I have multiple degrees, but it's really the same degree and I just earned it twice. All it really means is that I not only know Maslow's needs hierarchy up and down, I also know that Maslow's first name was 'Abraham'.

I'm certainly not the brightest bulb in the drawer, but I try not to use words inappropriately. I know Karly wrote about this earlier this week, and I can appreciate her coming forward. What I hate, absolutely despise, is when someone uses a word inappropriately in a pseudo-professional setting and holds themselves out as a professional. In short, if you're being paid to write an article, you shouldn't use words inappropriately just because you heard some one on Entertainment Tonight use the word to describe Anna Nicole's burial dress and you liked the sound of it.

Case in point - and I'm not referencing the author or the publication. If they're stupid enough (and they may be) to step up and take credit for it, then so be it. This was printed today regarding the Scooter Libby trial:

"It is all very weird. Reporters telling their anonymous sources, the anonymous sources giving info to spin, not a whistle blower, but trying to discredit a whistleblower. It is all kind of surreal."

First what does that even mean?

Second, and more to the point, surreal? Really? Was it all very dreamlike, marked with odd juxtapositions and moments of incongruence? Did Scooter Libby take his oath while sitting on the back of a unicorn as a soft wind blew across a rippling pond and birds barked at the moon? Was the judge in the case Eddie Van Halen, but for some reason this didn't seem to bother you and, in fact, you found some amount of comfort and calm in the preceedings?

Surreal has become like "Kleenex" or "Styrofoam". People just use it to describe an experience when they can't come up with "intriguing", "interesting", "exciting", "an honor" - or probably more accurately, choose not to use any of those words because surreal sounds more regal.

Yes it sounds more regal, but you sound like a dumba$$ using it to describe your dinner at Shogun.

I gotta say it was a good day....

(I posted this at 9:00PM on Tuesday. It's now 7:50AM Wednesday and I'm making some edits.)

Happy Birthday Leah!!!

Tuesday was a banner day for Leah and I. She received a very, very good annual performance evaluation. That is HUGE! Her boss had to wrote some nice things about her (which were all true). Kudos for Leah!!!

While it doesn't mean a pay increase, I got this, which is one of the coolest things to happen to me in a while. (READ down - don't scroll, that's stealing - to the next to last point...bullet point #5.) The link to the left for The Sports Guy, well Bill Simmons IS the Boston Sports Guy (or at least he was before ESPN picked him up). It would be like Veronica Mars saying, "I talked to Karly the other day, and she said ALL FLAW ON THE SLAW DOG!"

I know it's not much, but this is better than a cameo mention in The Wahoo Gazette. (If you don't know what The Wahoo Gazette is, how was Leno last night?)

Back!

I didn't even have to use my AK.
I gotta say it was a good day.