I can’t go without my camera. I just can’t. The cell phone doesn’t compare.
Must Focus on the Good Things:
1. I got my T-shirt from Fussy and my boobs look ginormous.
2. It’s my weekend with the kids.
3. I still have direct access to my daughter’s MySpace and can remove pictures of her half-naked body and any other photos where ‘angles’ have been implemented at will.
4. There is a baby bird living in a tiny nest outside the back door. I took a photo of it yesterday but since that is when I realized something was seriously wrong with my camera, you can’t see it. Stupid camera! What am I going to do – Wait! Refocus!
5. I finished sewing the robe for my son to wear to school for History Day. He is Confucius. No, I’m not at all tired of hearing random made up Confuciunisms like, ‘Mom who give son money for Jamba Juice find life to be very rewarding and fulfilling. And win the lottery. Aw, c’mon, Mom!’
Hey, I have a tattoo. Well, I have a few tats, but I have one on my lower back that was recently re-discovered by two of my sons. They wanted to know why I had a huge-ass turtle on my lower back. And on closer inspections, why it had a POD scrawled in the center of the shell.
‘Mom, why would you do that?’
‘What?’
‘That band sucks!’
‘Yes, I know. It’s not for that. It’s because a long time ago, before we were divorced, I wanted to prove to your dad that he was the one and only guy for me.’
‘You mean, that means ‘Property Of D?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s dumb.’
‘Yes.’
‘That was back before your brain got fixed, right?’
‘Yes.’
‘I knew it. I’m not getting a tattoo.’
I think that went well.
I did go to get it covered and re-designed after I met Joe. I was all ready and on the table and had a design I drew to cover it and everything. And then she put the needle on my back and I thought I was going to die. I actually squealed and shimmied off the table. I tried to explain that the first time I had it done, I didn’t actually feel anything and I had no idea it was going to hurt that bad, but it made no sense to the lady and she was pretty annoyed. Trying to explain dissociation to people is like trying to speak another language sometimes. And so now, I’m nothing but a pussy with a tribute to a watered-down, takes-themselves-too-serious, pseudo-Christian, semi-rock band. If that’s not an anti-tattoo testimony, I don’t know what is.
i still want a tattoo. my problem is of what and where and i’m scared of the pain. 🙂
come with me.
I’m afraid to get a tattoo because I still believe my mom when she told me that when I get pregnant, it’ll stretch out and never go back.
However, I no longer believe that my face will freeze when I cross my eyes, so that’s progress.
jen – ok! let’s do it at blogher!
jes – it does stretch. she was right. so if you do decide to get one, make sure it’s in a place that theoretically won’t stretch that much…. like not on your tummy i guess….
i have my husband’s face tattooed on my arm .. i really liked the feel of getting the tattoo .. made me feel all spacey and warm. i was ready to do it again before i even walked out of the tattoo parlor.
i want another one.
lauren
ps .. leah, i read your book.. thanks for writing it.
I have three tattoos – a small one on the back of my neck that was done professionally and two on my ankle and foot that I did myself back in high school. I am now the poster child for both poor decisions during the teenage years AND bad tattoo ideas. To those considering a tattoo, I’ll just say that smaller is better and black is the best (easiest to remove). I don’t regret the one on the back of my neck, but then again, I never see it. Other people do, however, and always ask me about it, which is always nice when I’m at a business meeting or formal event. Just make sure you pick a design that has a good explanation.
I read that they now have tat’s that you can only see at night, guess it’s a glow in the dark type. That could make sex funner, eh?!
I want to tattoo my hubbie’s ranch brand on my left hip, the same location they brand the cattle.
He won’t let me. I can’t figure out why.
Maybe you could put a sticker on your back each morning to cover the tattoo.
When I got tattoos, I was smart enough to get the most idiotic images I could think of, so there would be no chance of coming to regret them later. For example, a picture of a toaster with a slice of bread poking out is wildly stupid from the get-go, and gets no stupider as time goes on. It’s constant, consistent stupidity. 15 years later, I find that a curious kind of comfort.
lauren – where is a photo of your husbands face on your body? i would love to see it. and thanks for reading the book.
lindsey – you tatted yourself? wow. i’m impressed. that seems like it would be a conflict of interest since you are causing yourself pain, and yet, you keep on doing it.
piglet – just where would the tats be that would make sex fun? i like the idea……
ree – i love that idea. being branded. by your husband. oh, wait. i did that already. not so good. : )
cc – that would be a huge-ass sticker. maybe it could be this one
dave – smart. smart, my man. you ARE the edge i need.