"Trying to Lift You Is Like Dancing With a Jack-in-the-Box!"

So Jacob says to me, while we try to do a simple lift for the umpteenth time! Apparently, I am springing up on releve (for non-dancers, that’s tippy-toes) way too early, and way too often, making it near-impossible for the guy to figure out where the hell I am so as to get a grip on me. Ugh. Lifts are so much harder than they look — even the simple-looking ones…

Anyway, I posted this pic for another reason. Just got my tickets for my annual trek down to North Carolina to visit my mom for Thanksgiving 🙂 Yay! Biscuits ‘n gravy, biscuits ‘n gravy, mouthwateringly buttery grits, more biscuits ‘n gravy, and … Jack-in-the-Box!!!!!! Seriously, this chain started in the west, and was a childhood favorite of mine growing up in Phoenix. There was a restaurant just down the street from our house, and I just thrilled to see my mom talk into the big happy-faced Jack in the drive-thru. Unfortunately, I got hooked on the menu too, which is admittedly major white-trash food — the greasy, greasy, lardy, meat-filled Monster Tacos and even greasier, fried-battery, near onion-less onion rings are my faves! Once I moved to the east coast, ugh, I was so upset — no Jacks! BUT, now they have opened several franchises in the south, and Charlotte, North Carolina (ONLY a near two-hour drive from where Mom lives!) now boasts one! So, every year, Mom has been driving me, and my cousin, who now lives in her neighborhood but who likewise grew up in Phoenix on this exquisite white-trash cornucopia, all the way to Charlotte for our annual trip down memory lane. Last year, for old times’s sake, Mom bought me this little Jack doll to bring home with me to NY. If he looks a little odd, it’s because his nose broke off and I haven’t yet got to Lee’s Paints to buy some superglue, so just stuffed it back in backwards. Well, thanks to my new teach, Jacob, the little man’s springy, wobbly head now has adult meaning to me as well…