Ink

I was never much a fan of tattoos. They were fine....for other people. Not so much for me. All I really knew about them was that they were applied with NEEDLES. Needles that buried ink deep under the skin like a hole punch. NO THANKS!!  Paper cuts make me nauseous. Blood makes me dizzy with a side order of seeing giant black spots and hearing loss, potentially causing my body to hit the floor. Tattoos of any sort were never on my to do list.

Until I turned 44. I don't know why it happened. My reactions to the above have not changed but still after seeing a particular design (originally found by my beautiful niece) those things didn't seem as important. Apparently I am now invincible. I googled placement ideas and settled on my right foot. Then I  read EVERYTHING google had to offer on foot tattoos. They fade, they hurt (A LOT), they probably aren't a good idea for a first tattoo placement. Perfect, sign me up!

There was a tiny bit of green shading and the whole thing took maybe a total of 20 minutes. The time spent worrying about the pain was time wasted. It was kinda like an annoying burning sensation but I wouldn't really calling it pain. I delivered two full term babies after several unmedicated hours of labor each. This was worlds away from THAT pain.

I love looking at this tattoo and even now, about a year and a half later I still consider it one of the coolest ideas I've ever followed through on.

Side note: It's now become kind of a family tattoo. My niece, my sister and I all have them on the top of our feet. I think it's safe to say we all think they are perfect.

I like the infinity symbol but I wanted something that incorporated a heart so I combed the internet for my next design.  A couple of months after I declared my first tattoo a success I found it. Or so I thought...

 

 

This one I may have been a tiny bit hasty about. It's not my favorite. I love the color but it's a little more tribal looking than I'm crazy about and truth be told in my brain it resembles an 87 instead of an infinity symbol and heart combination. The thick lines hurt more that the first tattoo and I had to almost physically restrain myself from kicking the tattoo guy in the junk. I got through it, I can't say it was worth it. I'm mostly stuck with it unless I have some kind of cover up done but I'm just not that worried about it. Soooo...it is what it is.

 

I was content with the two...until Saturday. I went with a friend who had an appointment to get her tattoo. As we sat waiting for her turn I felt that familiar itch again. I knew then that I was leaving with fresh ink.

 

I haven't actively been looking at design ideas but poking around pinterest I found one that was scroll-y and delicate. It's probably what I wanted when I settled for the one I put on my left ankle. The one that I should have given a minutes more thought about then changed my mind. But didn't.

 

It took a little over an hour and hurt like I can't describe but I am enamored with it. I am fairly sure that it is my last but since I didn't plan to ever get my first, who knows.

 

 



Wickedly Wonderful

Way back in October I had an opportunity to purchase tickets to the Broadway production of Wicked. I knew that this production was perfect for my mom and I. Many years ago we saw Cats together and it's a very fond memory that I will never forget. I wasn't passing up the opportunity to have another experience similar to that one. The tickets were pricey but I was able to put them on a payment plan of sorts. My employer offers a payroll deduction that is taken over several pay checks. January 20th seemed so far away that I really almost forgot about them.

Kinda like when I was very young and school clothes were put in layaway for several weeks before school started in September.  Days before school started I excitedly remembered that I had a whole new gloriously beautiful wardrobe just waiting behind the counter at Kmart.

Except let me tell you when we got to the theatre and found out that our seats were front row, that Kmart wardrobe? It became every dream outfit at Neiman Marcus!!

I'm not sure who was more pleased with our experience, me or mom. But had the tickets been quadruple the price, and I knew how much we were going to enjoy our afternoon together I would have sold a kidney on Ebay to make it happen.

We were practically in OZ!!

The only thing between those brilliant performers and us was the orchestra. Granted some of the lyrics were drown out by the musicians but seriously, can that even be a complaint?


I am the proud owner of a Wicked soundtrack CD, which has been on a 19 song, 1.1 hour rotation for the last several hours and a purple souvenir t-shirt which I will most certainly wear like a 12 year old girl with her first Justin Beiber concert shirt.

But what I cherish most from this afternoon was the time spent with the special women that God allowed to be my mother. Sure I tell her I love her and I have no doubt that she knows but sharing times like these together is what I want to remember above all. The play was amazing, yes. But sharing it with my mom?

That was BEAUTIFUL!



A Good Memory

My company plans our holiday party for after the holidays, which is really quite nice. Less stress. No trying to fit a supposed-to-be-fun-evening into an evening that is spent worrying about what is left to be done before the upcoming OH SO IMPORTANT DAY. The day where the perfect gift wrapping lasts 2.3 seconds and you barely have time to see the look on the face of the person receiving what you hope is the perfect gift.

Bonus, the dresses appropriate for a holiday party are on clearance. SCORE!!

Our parties are themed and this year was no exception. Viva Las Vegas. Complete with Elvis and Vegas style gambling.

So Saturday evening we stepped out in our party wear (read: suit and clearance dress with shoes that gave me GINORMOUS blisters)




There were 3 artists that were there doing caricatures, in between drinks, dinner and dancing. We didn't do one last year so this year we decided we would. We sat down in front of a young-ish guy. He began drawing and making small talk. I asked him if he saw everyone in caricature form, like at the airport. He said yes, most of the time and that it made getting a girlfriend difficult. We giggled, drank and continued our chat. We talked about where we were from. He said you're from Westerville, Ohio, I remember.

I was, like, WHOA! BACK THE BUS UP! Remember from where?? Oh shit! Did I know him?? Should I remember? I didn't have that much to drink, I should remember someone who knows where I lived 12 years ago. My eyes must have begged Pat to tell me he knew him from somewhere because I was FREAKING THE HELL OUT!! And this guy was studying us to draw our freakin faces! He shrugged, nope, didn't recognize him. I spent the rest of the night racking my brain trying to figure out how this random guy "remembered" where we lived 12 years ago.

We had a wonderful time (except for the amount of time I was trying to convince myself that the artist dude wasn't some crazy stalker). I'm totally counting the amount of dancing that I did as enough aerobic exercise for the next 10 years!!

This morning Pat remembered that we had a caricature done in 2001 at his company Christmas party when we first moved here. We thought it would be fun to see how much we had changed so I pulled it out.

December 2001/Signature reads Rich 01

 

The caricature done last night..........

January 2012/Signature reads Rich 2012 (2013)



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mystery solved!! But who remembers one couple out of 98450 that they've done drawings of over the last 12 years???  A little creepy. No?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Holiday Hangover

I love my Christmas tree. I lovingly place each ornament just so. I'm kinda particular about which ornaments go where. I may be known to move certain ornaments several days after the tree is up if it's on the wrong branch. And my sweetie is responsible for the garland and the lights. It says so in our wedding vows. He's crazy, neurotic about the pearl garland. It looks the same every year, but I'm okay with that. To me it's beautiful.

Exhibit A...




Perfectly straight. CRAZINESS!

I don't however like to take the tree down. I did my part on January 1st, removing each ornament.  Knowing that Pat is a bit of a procrastinator (I'm the kettle to his pot), I expected the tree to sit for several more days with lights and garland gleaming but when I came home from work yesterday the tree was gone and stowed back in the garage until late next November when we will start the process again.

I assumed the rest of the Christmas decoration would follow but my dear husband had other ideas.

He has a model train that he LOVES. This year he had it running through my Christmas village. Out of the reach of dimpled, three year old, granddaughter fingers and curious kitty paws. Although I saw Lucy sitting in the middle of the village more than once. Shhhhhh, I let her sit there it was cute.

Currently, I have a village with a train sitting in one end of my living room so my husband can play with his toys on a whim.

 

I'm expecting the Easter Bunny to be forced to leave egg and candy filled baskets at the train station.

A New Year, A New Me

I think I've finally found a name that suits my little corner of the internet. I've changed it twice in the 2 and a half-ish years since I planted the little seed and tried to cultivate it into something that resembles a blog.

Having slept through the midnight New York City ball drop we didn't have much fanfare to greet the incoming year in the early hours of 2013. An early work hour of 5 am for my sweetie meant he was home in plenty of time for us to enjoy some beach time before the sunset this evening. We walked holding hands watching people in bathing suits, dripping wet oblivious to the chilly (at least by Florida standards) air.

I made myself stop and just stand there. Looking, really looking at what any other day I probably would have just walked by. I don't make New Years resolutions. It's a sure set up for failure. But today I decided that too much time, too many days, weeks, months, years have past where I have missed details. Details, like how red the lifeguard shack at the beach is.

How cool and soft the sand felt under my feet, between my toes. Where the shells stopped after being plowed in by the waves, much like drifts of snow fresh from the edge of a shovel.

 

 

The seagulls were still. Their normally loud call was quiet like they were daring me to notice. I did notice. I heard the giggling of the kids in the cold water and the splashing as they tried to out run the chilly waves.

 

This year I'm going to fall more in love with him.

Learn more about me.

 

And write more about it here.