30 Day Writing Challenge--Day 7--What tattoos you have and if they have meaning

This day was easy because I wrote about my tattoos a few years ago and explained their meanings. So I'm just going to re-print it below. I have gotten another tattoo since then. A bit with reins around my arm because of lifelong love of horses.

I remember when I first decided to get a tattoo. A real tattoo. It was New Year's Eve 1996. I worked at a place where you had to go into work on New Year's Eve but you got to leave early. Some co-workers of mine were planning on grabbing an early drink before heading to various parties. I figured the place they were going was on the way to the 'el' so I tagged along. Well one pitcher of beer led to a few more and before I knew it, it was 8pm and they were planning on hitting another bar. I was out of money but wanted to wait until 9 when the CTA offered penny rides home. One of the women I worked with stopped for a bathroom break and brought us all temporary tattoos that you could buy from a vending machine in the ladies room. She had chosen a tiger for me, since I had gone to the University of Missouri. I placed the tiger on the upper portion of my left breast. I thought it looked good at the time, but again, my judgement might have been a little off. 9:00 came and I hopped on the 'el' with balloons tied to my head, and the tiger still on my chest.

The next day I took a shower and as I looked at the temporary tattoo before I washed it off I thought it looked good. I decided not to wash it off and to live with it for a few days to see if this was something I really wanted. When it finally started to peel about 3 days later, I reluctantly washed it clean. After the shower and looking in the mirror, I missed having something there. 

At this time I was dating a guy who was a biker, and happened to have a large panther tattoo on his arm. He had gotten that tattoo at Lyle Tuttle's tattoo shop in San Francisco. For those of you who don't know, Lyle Tuttle is one of the tattooing Gods. His store has been around long before the boys of Miami Ink or Kat Von D were even born. It just so happened that the company I worked for was having their Annual Meeting in San Francisco in August. I knew that's where I would get my first tattoo.

August finally arrived and I was still determined to get my tattoo. I would be at the meeting for 5 days and even though I would have to work days, I would have one afternoon and most of my evenings free. I told some, ok, most of the people I was traveling with that I was going to get a tattoo and they didn't believe me. My co-worker and good friend Jackie said she would go with me. I already knew what I was going to get. A Native American bear fetish with a heartline running through it on my left breast. (Right where the tiger had been). The bear fetish represents strength and wisdom which I thought was appropriate for everything I had been through in my life up until that point. I decided to get it on my breast so I could still hide it at work. So Jackie and I hopped on a cable car and ended up at Lyle Tuttle's. Lyle wasn't there that night but a very nice woman was. She asked if she could help us. Jackie turned and said "her...not me." I told her what I wanted and she looked through some of her books to find it. She found a design that I liked and she told me to sit down. She asked if this was my first tattoo. I said yes. She said, "Well, I'm sure people have told you that it hurts." I nodded. "It doesn't really. Feels more like a bee sting and you get used to it." I was nervous, but tried to relax. She put paper towels around my shirt so as not to get ink on it, and placed the template on my chest. She asked if that position was ok. I told her yes and we got started. She was very gentle. She explained that the closer to bone, the more it would hurt. That was true. As she got near my sternum, it hurt more than when she was around the fleshy part of my breast. In about 30 to 45 minutes she was finished. Jackie said she liked it. I said I liked it...probably still dizzy from the excitement of actually getting something permanent on my body. The tattoo got bandaged, I got my little card explaining the after-care procedures and Jackie and I went to dinner. It was a little sore, but not too bad. When I got back to the hotel, I took off the bandage, and washed the tattoo gently with soap and water. I still have the t-shirt that I wore to bed that night, which still has the ink impression of my bear on it. 

The next day people at the meeting asked why I got it where I did. Someone even said "Why didn't you get it on your ass so no one will see it?" I told her "Well then Iwouldn't be able to see it." Some people thought it was neat. Some people thought I was crazy. I was still in love. When I got back to work, the story of my tattoo had spread and I told everyone it was fun, didn't really hurt, and that it was the only one I was going to get. 

I was wrong.

I know that tattoos have become more mainstream and less "outlaw" these days. I can still look professional and hide all my tattoos. I never told my mother that I got the tattoo because I was afraid of her reaction, and now I have a memorial tattoo for her. I have gotten tattoos in Chicago and at a party in Northbrook. Most of my tattoos have come from trips to London, England, where I have been tattooed by a lanky teenager from Manchester, who spent the whole time with his tongue hanging out, a chain smoking Italian and a Dane. I have been tattooed by women and men. I have been watched while I have been tattooed and been photographed for an artists portfolio. 

What shocks me is that some people get tattoos for the wrong reason. My best friend used to threaten to get a tattoo just because her fiance' said she wouldn't. That is not a reason to get something etched onto your body permanently. Each and every one of my tattoos mean something. The bear on my breast represents my life, the flowers tattooed on my right foot represent beauty. The horse on my right outside ankle, and on my right bicep represent my love for horses. The horse on my lower back is more of a spiritual horse. The bear claw on my left shoulder along with the ring of bears around my left ankle continue my life story of strength and wisdom. The cat on my left ankle represents my love for cats. 

My memorial tattoos include angel cats by one of my mother's favorite artists, B. Klieban. They are on my right shoulder because I have a birthmark there from pressing against her body while in the womb. The elk (no it's not a moose), on my left bicep is for my step-father because we had a long-going joke that elk don't exist. It's on my left arm because he was left handed. There are 11 points on his antlers because his birthday was December 11. The owl on my left thigh is for my father. My father was very wise and passed it down to me. He also had a collection of owls for many years. It is a snowy owl due to "Hedwig" in "Harry Potter" because my father introduced me to the "Harry Potter" novels. It's on my left thigh because he used to call me thunder thighs when I was younger. It's on the left side because the left side is where my heart is.

I have two other tattoos. I have a disgruntled bunny on the inside of my right ankle...just because I liked it when I saw it on the wall of "flash" in a tattoo parlor in London. It is also because I am often disgruntled and have the same face and blue eyes the bunny does. 

The final tattoo might be the only one I am not too proud of. It was sort of a joke, which I agree is the wrong reason to get a tattoo. But that one is on my ass and is hidden and only a few special people get to see it. But it still means something. Still is part of the "story" written on my body. 

Twelve years and twelve more tattoos later I still love my first tattoo. I will admit, that over the years, the bear has sagged a bit and sometimes looks more like a giraffe. (I'll let you figure out the visual on that). I am planning on getting another tattoo. I don't know when, but I do know where and what it is going to be. It will have deep, personal meaning to me and it will, like all the others, tell a story.

30 Day Writing Challenge--Day 4--10 Interesting Facts About Yourself

Talking about myself...something I'm not very good at, so I'm just going to list these facts and maybe elaborate them on another occasion.

1. I am an avid reader and have over 3,000 lbs of books.

2. I've been riding horses and motorcycles since I was 5 years old.

3. I have a B.A. in English and have had jobs in retail, motorcycles, horses, computers, advertising, non-profit organizations, and music.

4. I still sleep with a stuffed animal I received my junior year in high school.

5. I have never broken a bone in my body.

6. My favorite recipes to cook are ones from my great-grandmother, mother and father, it makes me feel closer to them now that they are gone.

7. I have read (and UNDERSTOOD), the Canterbury Tales in Middle English and Beowulf in Old English.

8. I am very opinionated, but not very political or religious.

9. I am the only one in my immediate family who does not have a drinking problem.

10. Football is my favorite sport but I always fantasized about being married to a PGA golfer.

Momma Said There'd Be Days Like This

Coming up in November of 2012, my mother will have been gone for 14 years. I miss her most every day but today was especially hard.  We all have traditions around the holidays and our family was no different. We used to open presents on Christmas Eve and have oysters and lobster for dinner.  It was never Christmas in our house unless you got a new book, and usually you got a calendar as well.  I used to get horse calendars a lot because they were my favorite animal.  (I always wondered why the picture of the horse for May was always a white/gray one...but maybe that's for another post).  I got Cow calendars after I moved to Wisconsin and decorated my kitchen with any sort of bovine item I could find.  My mother got Kleiban Cat calendars or calendars with pictures of food or flowers.

On January 1, or the 2nd as today is...my mom and I used to sit at the dining room table armed with a bunch of new colored pens or pencils, our new calendars and our calendars from the year just passed.  We would slowly go through month by month and put in birthdays, anniversaries, holidays and any appointments we knew we might have coming up.  It was a way to reflect on the year gone by and a way to look forward to the upcoming year as well. The Rose Parade was usually on in the background and we would watch the beautiful floats as we created beautiful little pictures in the small squares of our calendars. We drew hearts on the square for February 14th, a shamrock for March 17th, an egg or a bunny or a basket for whenever Easter was.  Relatives birthday's used to be marked in the same color and the birthday it was would be proudly displayed...My mom's birthday was January 7th so that was always the first entry."Bapa is 73!" for my grandfather, or "My 22nd" on May 5th for my day.  Friends would get their birthday's listed as well, usually in a different color than our relatives, but distinctive enough so we knew who was celebrating when.  It usually took us an hour or so and we'd talk and laugh and remember as we did this.

But times and traditions change. I don't have a wall calendar this year. Yesterday, I put birthdays, anniversaries and appointments into the calendar on my iPhone.  Today, I watched the Rose parade alone.

I Enjoy Being A Girl -- NOT!

Now don't judge me by the title of this posting. I am very glad I am a girl/woman.

I just have never been what you would consider a "girly" girl. I don't wear make-up. I did for a bit back in 7th or 8th grade, but found that it took too much time in the morning to get ready. I'd rather use that extra time to sleep, finish reading a chapter of a book, or cook something amazing for breakfast. I do wear lip gloss and the occasional lipstick color. I've been known to enjoy a sample of perfume from Clinique and wear that. I wear dresses and skirts, although I am more comfortable in jeans, pants or shorts. I enjoy getting dressed up and wearing jewelry for a night on the town (or formal night on the cruise ship). But as you know I had never colored my hair until a week and a half ago, I have never had a manicure/pedicure or been to a spa. (I've worked with horses, guitars and computers so long nails don't really fit into that description).
When I first started "online" dating, I would invite guys to meet me at the barn I worked at because I figured if they didn't like me in jeans and smelling like hay, then they weren't going to like me. I like shopping, but I like going somewhere, getting what I want, and getting out. Whereas some women can spend hours in Macy's or Nordstrom, I would rather spend hours in Barnes & Noble or the Apple Store.

I like to consider myself a bit different, or unique from other women. I LOVE sports. I would rather sit home on Sunday and watch football than anything else. Super Bowl Sunday is a holiday in my home. I used to be with guys at a football game in high school and would know more than they would. (This didn't get me many second dates back then.) I can quote baseball stats with the best of them. I watch NASCAR races and know the drivers. I watch and play golf. I play 16" softball (or at least I used to). I have always had better men friends then I have had women friends. I would rather hang out at a sports bar than at the mall. I tell crude jokes, I swear like a sailor, and I can hold my own at the bar. I have a fetish for ties. I know cars and motorcycles and cook amazing things on the grill. I take shorter showers than my boyfriend, and with my new haircut can be ready to leave for work in 15 minutes. I can drive a tractor. I can ride a motorcycle AND change my own oil. I don't sit at stop lights and fix my hair or put on make-up. I don't believe that every baby is "adorable" or "gorgeous." I don't worship Oprah. I watch the View but mostly for Whoopi Goldberg. I enjoy chick flicks, but I'd rather go alone than with a group of "chicks." I know that that's not necessarily unique, but I am definitely in the minority.

Now I want to make it clear that I love men (getting hit on by lesbian women in college was flattering, but sort of creeped me out).

I also want to make it clear that being a girl/woman has its advantages. I enjoy my curves, my legs, painting my big toenails blue for the summer, and wearing pretty bras and panties. I enjoy the fact that I can be typing this blog, watching the news on tv and holding a conversation with my boyfriend all at the same time without even blinking. I don't laugh at every episode of "Family Guy" and don't get why "The Three Stooges" are supposed to be comic geniuses.

But it also has its disadvantages. I used to have a boss that would ask me a question and after I gave him the answer he would turn around and ask a guy the same question. I mean, if he wasn't going to believe me, why did he ask me in the first place? My boobs tend to get in the way of my golf swing. (But I've discovered that wearing a sports bra while playing helps a little). And now, as I am getting older, and have been having my "monthly visitor" for over 26 years, I am developing PMS.

I HATE to admit that. I used to be level headed before that time of the month. Sure, my breasts would get tender and I would crave chocolate and greasy food, but mostly I didn't change my personality. Maybe it's because I'm living with someone now who actually notices it. But I've noticed it too. I was in a really bad mood on Monday, snapping at everyone, being emotional, sullen, and basically not very pleasant to be around. I discovered on Tuesday morning that my period had started. Could I really be suffering from PMS or was it just a bad day?

I can deal with the tender breasts, the cravings, the headaches and the cramps. But I don't want to become another person. Now, I have stopped taking the pill (after taking it for 16 years). Maybe that's the reason? I don't know. All I know is that I don't like it. And if I keep this up as long as my mother, grandmother and great-grandmother did, I can look forward to another 15 years of this! That means 180 more episodes of PMS and that is why I do not enjoy being a girl!