To protect the douchebags and hos.
Not MY dad, but Dad from Dad’s House. P’sha. I give you my tattoo. Yes, it’s a crappy picture, but YOU try taking a picture of your own back. I dare ya!
Why yes, I am wearing pajamas. And yes, my ass is resting on the counter. Why, you ask? Because that’s just how I roll, bitches.
The other day, I came across this post by Big Little Wolf. I found it interesting, and she seemed curious about tattooing and why people do it. I was surprised, however, when I read the comments. Out of 12 commenters, I was the only one who had ever gotten a tattoo. One of them in particular was very outspoken and to be honest, ticked me off just a bit. Ah well, to each their own. Still, I couldn’t believe that no one else had been inked.
In general, tattoos don’t bother me. In this day and age, most people my age don’t even bat an eyelash at them anymore. I wouldn’t say that they’re necessarily a turn-on, but they sure as shit can be. I got my first tat when I was 18, and really only did it because I had turned 18 and didn’t smoke, and lottery tickets never brought me much fun. I’d wanted a tattoo ever since I could remember, and I was finally able to do it! I thought long and hard about where the placement would be. I wanted it to be concealable, and I wanted to be original, so I went with the small of my back. Stay with me, here. Waaay back in 1998, I didn’t know anyone with a tattoo there. This was pre-tramp-stamp (I HATE that term) mania. All the women I knew who had them had them on their ankles or shoulders. I was safe in my non-conformity, right? Go ahead and laugh…I am. Next, I had to decide what to get. I wanted it to be delicate and ladylike, and I wanted it to be small. After looking at tons of pictures, I decided on a butterfly (yes, cliche numero dos, or is that tres?). The bottom wings were blue and the top were red, and it was cute and tiny and exactly what I had wanted. It was right on my back bone, as I was as skinny as a rail at the time, and it hurt like a mofo, but I did it. And I loved it.
I never regretted my decision to get the tattoo, not even when my daddy saw it by accident one day during a visit home. Since I didn’t see it all the time, I would sometimes forget it was there. When my husband and I split, I was inconsolible. In one of those “woman done gone crazy” kind of moments that happen during/after divorce, I decided that I would change my butterfly into something else. I would start fresh. I already knew what the butterfly would become – a Texas. Yes, the shape of the state of Texas. No matter where in the world I lived or visited, Texas was the place that was safe, it was always home. So, when my little sister came to visit and help me pack, we made a trip to the tattoo parlor and I went home with a different mark. Oddly enough, it was the exact same place I had gotten my butterfly etched 10 years before. I say odd because that city had been our first post after we got married, and it was also where we got divorced. We’d lived in 3 other states in between, but ended up right back there.
Now there’s the question of whether or not tattoos turn you on. To be honest, it depends on the person, what the tattoo is of, and whether or not is well-done. A shitty tattoo can be distracting, people! Douche had two tattoos that I hated. I wasn’t with him when he got either, and trust me – I would have tried to talk him out of them if I were. They always bugged me. Of the guys I’ve been with post-divorce, only one was tatted up, all on his arms, but not full sleeve. All of his tattoos were very well-done, and they fit his look (50’s greaser/rockabilly type). He had pin-up girls on his forearms, and they were HOT. I even named them, Lola and Gretchen. I would trace them and admire them, they were beautiful. That’s Lola, below. However, I wasn’t into him because of his tattoos, and the other non-tatted guys weren’t any less sexy or hot because they didn’t have them. In fact, when one told me he was thinking of getting one, I secretly hoped he wouldn’t.
I did some research and asked a former lover what he thought about my tattoo, to which he said, “it’s tasteful,” and also that, “tramp stamps are hot, arm tattoos are not.” Do I feel like I am more sexy because of my tattoo? No, I don’t. Do I think I’d be more sexy without it? Nope. It’s just a small part of me, a little scrap of skin barely 2 inches square, but it’s still a part of me.
This is where YOU come in, my lovies. Do you have any tattoos? What/where are they? Do you regret having them? Do you find them a turn-on? Turn-off? Would you date someone with tattoos or dismiss someone for them? Inquiring minds want to know!
***UPDATE*** The link to the post was broken, but should be fixed now. Sorry about that!
Another week, another week closer to the end of the semester, and Halloween is this weekend! WOOHOO!
This week, you get Ben Harper and – as a bonus – Rosey Grier singing a song from Free to be You and Me that’s been kicking around in my noggin.
Hope y’all have a great Tuesday. Also, feel free to share your favorite music here, too.
Another quiet night. Well, technically morning. Boo to that, I say. Boo!
Every year around this time, I usually go on a horror/thriller spree and let myself get scared silly, but this year has been too busy to get much terror time. I did, however, get to go out to see Paranormal Activity Friday night, and OH BOY it did the trick. I ended up meeting up with a guy I know from school, and it was really fun being scared…until I got home and was alone. You know that feeling that something’s going to grab your ankle if you get too close to the bed? Yeah, it was kind of like that. Guess I should give y’all a little review of it, so here goes:
Throughout most of the movie, I was kind of just waiting for it to scare me. Other people in the theater were WAY overreacting to little things, so that made it funny. It did eventually start being frightening, though, and by the end I was practically in my friend’s lap because I just KNEW something bad was going to happen. A few people walked out before the end. I think they built the suspense very well, but I also think it wouldn’t be half as scary viewed outside of a dark theater with surround sound and the nervous energy of a hundred other people. If you like to be scared and believe in ghosts/spirits/demons/poltergeists, it’ll probably be your cup of tea. If you’re one of those people who gets a boner from slasher films, you won’t like it at all. Overall, I think it was a good scare. I was shaking as I drove home (I was alone, shuddup), and I found it very difficult to sleep that night (with the lights on, alone…shuddup).
The rest of the weekend was spent babysitting Senor Fussypants so his parents could go out, homework, and shuttling the boys to various activities. I lead a jetsetting life, I tell ya.
So, do any of you have any good ghost stories/paranormal experiences? Spill, spill, spill!
I would like for my mentor meeting to go smoothly just once! Ever since my first partner decided she was too busy, it’s been chaos. Controlled chaos, but chaos nonetheless. Last week, my new partner was sick, so my group had to wait 20 minutes for their quizzes. This week, he came in 2 minutes before our meeting time, handed me the quizzes, said, “I’m in the middle of a test,” (WTF?) and walked out. I had just talked to him on Monday and was assured that he would be there. Grrrrrr. It wasn’t so much a problem until everyone finished their quiz at the same time and then had to wait for me to grade them all before we could move on. Usually, the second partner can start going over the answers and starting discussions while the grading gets finished up. So, the students are pretty much just sitting there twiddling their thumbs. 
He finally came back about halfway through and took over. Double grrrr. I get that he has been doing this for a long time. I get that he probably knows the material backward and forward, but damn, dude. Don’t show up halfway through and then act like you’re the only person who can help. ARG!
The rest of my day was much better. Since my afternoon class didn’t meet, I had time to hang out on campus for a little bit. It’s been warm for the past few days, and even though today was cloudy, the reds, oranges, and yellows of the leaves were beautiful. I ended up sitting under a tree listening to music until it was time to go meet the girls. It won’t be long before just sitting outside without becoming an icicle won’t be an option, so it was really nice to just take a break.
Lunch was great, but way too short (they only have 30 minutes). I got big, huge hugs, and it was apparently ”odd” day at the restaurant we were at. First, there was a lady and her young son in the booth behind us. I’d guess he was about 3 or so, and a cute little guy. Bek and I were sitting on one side, and Mel was sitting with her back to the mother and son. I noticed him sticking his tongue out playfully at his mom and pretending like he was going to lick her face. She laughed and Bek and I laughed. Then, he decided to do it to Mel. Mel is a germaphobe and had no idea what was happening. He got within an inch of the back of her neck with his tongue before his mother yanked him away. Bek and I thought it was pretty damn funny. After that, some guy came up to the same lady and started talking to her about how much weight she’d lost. I swear, he said, “I just can’t believe it!” about 5 times as he stood there. Loudly, too. It just seemed like a bizarre exchange. Next, Bekki was telling us a story about a weird dream and stopped mid-sentence. I looked over to where her eyes had stopped, and there was an old man wearing Mickey Mouse ears. Bizarro.
When I got home, the boys wanted me to use picnik.com to make scary photos of them. I’d done one for my facebook, and they wanted one, too. It didn’t take too long, and they were happy with them. We’re one small, scary, Halloween-y family now.
Hope y’all had a great Thursday!
I finally got the new Avett Brothers cd, and as promised, it is fantastic. As I listened, each song seemed better than the last. I’ve listened to the entire thing at least 6 times since I got home, and I still like every song. Can’t wait to see these guys live in a few months!
I got some great news today when I learned I got an A on the huge long midterm for my lit class. Go me! I also had my teaching group today in that class, and it was completely frustrating. Group projects always are, right? There were 6 of us, and only 3 of us got together to discuss what we were going to do. Our group was to lead a class discussion on four short stories. Two people did biographies of the authors, and the rest of us each talked about one of the stories. It was decided that I would go last because my story was pretty complex and needed a little more explanation. Well, as the first two did their speil, I realized that we were going to run out of time. I had less than five minutes for my story. Grrr. Oh well. I turned in all my info, so it shouldn’t matter.
I’m actually getting a break tomorrow because my afternoon class isn’t meeting for the next two weeks. That means I get to meet my girls for lunch for the first time in months, and I really can’t wait to see them. Big hugs are a-comin’ and I am glad for that.
It’s been hard not talking to WT. Very hard. I wonder what’s going on, and I wonder if he’s okay.
I know I’ve been posting a lot of music, but just listen.
This whole cd has been getting a lot of playtime over in Ginger’s world, and this song keeps getting stuck in my head.
Hope you’re all having a super Tuesday.
Middle of the night and it’s just too quiet. I don’t like being alone, not for very long. While there are times when I can’t wait to be alone, with no one around, I am the kind of person who likes to have a partner, a buddy, a pal, a lover. I crave the touch, the hugs and the affection. I like to be able to sink into another person, lean into them and just be.
This may be the only time I’ll ever say anything good about Douche here, but that’s one thing he was good at. He would let me hug all over him as much as I wanted to and not complain. In fact, every lover/boyfriend/whatever I’ve had since hasn’t minded much, either. The one who was best at cuddling was the one who never let go first. Then he did.
It’s been over a month since I’ve hugged anyone other than my children. I haven’t seen my girlfriends since school started and the guy friends I have now, I am being SUPER careful with to keep as friends. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to this? It’s been 2 years since my divorce. I’ve had 2 ”serious” relationships, 1 friend with benefits (that was a great dumb idea), and a not so serious relationship, but intimate nonetheless. These all happened one right after the other.
I once had a friend tell me that the reason I fall in love so easily and hold so tight to people is because I’m afraid to be alone. I’m sure there’s some truth to that. I mean, see above, right? It’s been almost four months since I’ve been out of a relationship. When WT and I would get together, I’d get that closeness factor, sitting together while we watched Dexter or whatever movie it was, I’d get hugs and big laughs. It was a comfort, and it definitely helped me not to be so sad over the Fireman. He was like a security blanket. He was my good time, my fun. So maybe that’s why I’m so sad? Because I know I don’t have that to look forward to anymore with him? Don’t get me wrong, and before you say it – yes, I understand that I will be close with someone again. Plenty of fish in the sea and all that jazz. He was just a friend. So on and so forth. Time marches on. Any more platitudes I can squeeze in here?
I know it doesn’t really make sense for me to be so upset about what happened. It had nothing to do with me. It wasn’t done to me. If he were just a friend, I should stand by him and support him, right? Love your friends no matter what? I used to think so. Who knows.
The thing is…it’s just that…I mean, the more times this happens (ahem, intentionally or not), the harder it gets to take on the chin. And I could really use a good, honest hug.
It’s too quiet. That’s really all there is to say.
My baby-est baby boy is now into double digits. He turned 10 yesterday, and I still can’t believe it. He’s my BABY, dammit. Since he isn’t a giant like his brother, it’s been easier for me not to see him as the “big boy” that he is. He doesn’t really watch cartoons much anymore (except The Simpsons, because that show is da bomb), he doesn’t color in coloring books. He’d rather run outside and shoot hoops with the neighborhood kids than just about anything else. Sit on Mom’s lap? Hahaha, hardly. In the last year, he’s decided he’s too big to do that anymore. He still lets me hug him and cuddle sometimes, but he’s not the snuggle-bug he was a year or two ago.
The boys didn’t have school yesterday because it was a teacher work day. We headed over to the cheap theater in Michigan (seriously, we can buy three tickets, three drinks, popcorn or nachos and candy for everyone and spend less than $25)(and it isn’t dirty or run down) to go see Where The Wild Things Are. This movie was freakin’ awesome, yo. It was funny, heartbreaking, and visually stunning. If you loved this book as a child (who didn’t?), go see it. You won’t regret it. The rest of the day was spent getting hot chocolate, playing football, cooking dinner, and playing video games. I think he had a pretty great birthday.
We had his party at the skating rink today, and only three of the kids he invited showed up. I was disappointed since I had to pay the same amount no matter how many kids came, but Little J was cool with it. I probably shouldn’t have scheduled it during the Notre Dame/USC game, eh? D’oh! The kids skated and played video games and had cupcakes and ice cream and root beer…and I didn’t have to clean it all up when it was over.
How’s your weekend so far?
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They sassed back