I got my period this morning! Yeah! Now, along with everything else, I’m bleeding like that scene from The Shining. Yep. I don’t think they make a pad for THAT, do they? TMI much? LOL!!!!!!

I’m really going to try to pull it together to day and have one of those ‘really live it’ days. I know I can do it…I know I can! For one thing, I am totally beauty-inspired from watching Drag Race last evening. If a drag queen can’t make you feel fab, who can? Though I have often drawn inspiration for great hair from various queens, (and Paul Stanley), I’m not sure I saw anything appropriate for my work environment on the show. So…I’ll stick with the bun, but put on way too much eyeliner. Mmmmm…I’d do with big, red lips, but I’m a little shy about that after a horrible lip-liner incident last week. I did the big pouty with my blood red liner and stain, then couldn’t get it off after going way too big. The end result: After trying hopelessly to remove it, all that smeared lip stain made me look like I’d been drinking cherry KoolAid out of the pitcher. Horrible! And I didn’t have time for a good fix before leaving for work. Sigh…Doing ‘Selena lips’ is always a risk. Sometimes you win…sometimes you look like you’ve been playing in Mommy’s makeup kit again…

I finally got over the creepy-crawl from meeting Curly yesterday. I’m sure he’s a cool dude. It’s not his fault I’m turning into an old fart before my time. The meet & greet did cause me to lay in bed thinking about getting my right arm finished. I found a very good artist who is affordable and more than capable of completing my right sleeve. I guess I just have to get my dollar bills together after we get ahead a bit and make some final decisions about my background. I’m thinking of something a little wild…leopard spots! Yeah!!! Anyway…we’ll see. It feels good to think about it again, though. I hate getting tattooed when I’m not in that headspace. It’s just no fun.

Mother and I talked about mods on the way home from work yesterday. That was funny. She said that, if I hadn’t had that nasty breakdown, I would probably have pointy teeth and such, too! lol! She’s probably right! That breakdown brought everything about me to a standstill. Weird how that happened. It definitely curtailed my involvement in the bod mod community. I think what it really did was stomp on my rose colored glasses. You know what I mean? It took the fantasy out of my head. I think that sucks, though. You need to have that sense that, no matter how bad things are or ever have been, life is still totally awesome. Yep. I don’t suffer that delusion anymore. But I did assure Mom that I fully intend to black-out my left sleeve and have a scar/brand sleeve done. For old time’s sake, ya know lol! A girl has to have something to look forward to, right?

Mom has hired an alcoholic handyman. Long story, but this guy and my little bro lived together when they were about 20. It was them, all this guy’s brothers and a couple of really…REALLY…slutty girls. They lived in a house that had been condemned so that they didn’t have to pay rent. So…I guess they were actually squatters. But they didn’t want to pay rent because it cut into their party money. lol! It was great! Soooo…all these years later, Brother and…we’ll call him Dingus…meet back up and are best buds again. Dingus and his brother have a successful contracting business and are very good at the whole handyman/building houses thing. They do pretty much everything from roofing to new construction to remodels. And, in spite of their ‘fly by the seat of your pants’ mentality, they are bonded and all such shit as that.

Anyway…Mom hired Dingus to do some repairs to her house and run a couple of water lines outside so she can water her flowers without having to drag a hose from heretothere. So…yesterday while we were at work…he’s calling her every five minutes to tell her jokes about the work he’s doing. Mother has her phone set to automatically go to speaker when she flips it open, so I got to hear every gem. Like this one: ‘Miss B, yer not gonna like this but I found one of yer ex husbands buried under the laundry room. Wutcha wont me to do with im?’ At first, this shit was pretty funny, but then…not so much. Mother told me that the man drinks constantly while on the job, has the energy of a crack head and never, EVER, shuts up! lol! He always has a Pabst Blue Ribbon on hand and keeps an energy drink can filled with whiskey off to the side. LOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE THIS GUY! She said she doesn’t know how he manages to do his job, but he does it quite well. Scary thing: He was up on her freakin roof fixing a leak that was dripping onto the sun porch! OMG!

Well, I had better go get ready for work. Busy day today. Ugh! I feel like a freakin tick! Dear GAWD!!!!!!!!! I really need to make a Midol run…

Adios, ya’ll

Mother and I stopped in at the new shop on the way home today. They’re painting and all that crap. It’s such a great location and I know I should be happy that we’re moving there. It is a major step up. But, sitting there looking at the building through the windshield of my truck…I could have sworn I was looking at a fucking prison.

As Mother and I yacked about ordering our ‘Coming Soon’ banner and what type of artwork will be in the customer lounge, all I could think is that I can not drop the ball on this. I have to see things through with the shop and get Mother through the next few years till she retires. She can’t do this alone. She just can’t. So…that’s that.

On one hand, I am thrilled to be able to offer our customers a better experience when they come to the shop. I love them and think that spoiling them rotten would be too much fun. However, the work load is going to increase a great deal and, along with it, my time commitment to the business. I feel like my life is slipping away somehow as I bounce along, blindly doing what needs to be done. Maybe this is my mid-life crisis. Maybe it’s time for me to have that ‘time is slipping away’ feeling. Fuck if I know. All I really do know is that I want to go back home for a while, but that is never going to happen. And it makes me sad. Sick with sadness when I let myself think about it. So, I don’t. Except sometimes. Like now.

Well, hubby’s home. I’m going to go see how his day went.

Adios, ya’ll.

A local tattoo artist named Curly came into the shop today to check on some prices. We chatted about tattoos and such for a bit. I noticed that he barely opened his mouth when he spoke, which seemed weird to me. I thought he as some sort of control freak…you know…the kind of person who talks very quietly so you just HAVE to lean in to hear them? Anyway…during the conversation, I made a joke and Curly cracked a smile. OH SNAP! His teeth were all filed down to points! OMG!!!!

I love body modification. I think it’s interesting and expressive…sometimes artistic…sometimes not. I am intrigued by what people choose to do to alter themselves. But, the older I get, the more shocking I find certain things to be. Filed teeth are now in the #1 spot on my shocking/weird/I-want-my-mommy list, knocking Vajazzling into the #2 position. Seriously. Once I saw his teeth, my neck started to feel funny….like it was bracing to have a chunk bitten out of it. And then my teeth started hurting and I had the urge to clench them together. Then I took a step back and hoped the conversation would be over soon. It was. Thank goodness.

I feel a little bad about how I felt about Curly once I saw his teeth. Most people that are that seriously modified don’t mix with the mainstream, so it was pretty shocking simply because it was so unexpected. Used to, I would have asked him all about the procedure and tried to learn why he did it. Now…in the dawn of my old age…I am just disturbed by it in the same way that stretched nipples and split tongues disturb me. Some would say that I am heavily modified, though I don’t consider tattoos to be true mods. To me, real modification requires some sort of extended pain and/or bloodshed. There is much thought and commitment, more often than not, and a definite sense of self on the part of the person bearing the mods. I’ve met many heavily modified people in my time and most have been very intelligent and a lot of fun to be around. But…I don’t know. I guess I’m just different now. Or maybe my life is so full of drama and crapola that I have no brain-space left for things that I once found to be wild and wonderful.

Adios, ya’ll

I am now beginning to wonder if it is considered to be okay for the population of an entire nation, one that we share a border with, to suffer the horrors of a literal drug war so that the illegals who come here from that nation can pay into our tax base. Hm. Personally, I don’t care if they pay enough in taxes to pay off our national debt, I believe that Mexico and the people living there, (as well as those forced to flee the brutality of the drug cartels who are fighting to take over their country), are worth more than that. You cannot put a price on living peacefully. I believe we should fight for Mexico. That’s all.

Although, I will add that I found a huge number of links to articles that say they cost more than they put in. But, it’s the net. You can pretty much find anything to back up anything on here.

I was watching stuff about the Mexican drug war on YouTube. Why in Hell aren’t we over there helping them? The entire country could fall to these fuckers and we’re not going to do anything? I don’t get it. And you can’t blame Bush…he’s long gone. What does Obama plan to do about Mexico? Anything? This shit started back when I was a damn kid. Thirty years. How many presidents have come and gone since? Both Democrat and Republican. And they’ve all chosen to ignore it. That is shocking. To me, anyway.

Mexicans come here illegally and we hate them for it. Where else are they going to go? I don’t like them living off of our tax dollars like they do, but I don’t think sending them home is an answer. How can you send people back to a war zone? Why do we, as a nation, make a big deal because there’s an earthquake in Haiti, but seem to care less that there are thousands dying just a stone’s throw away? Where is the celebrity outcry for the victims who die daily in Mexico from the strong-arm tactics of drug cartels? Maybe it’s because we love their product so much and worry that, were we to stop them from doing as they will with the country of Mexico, they’ll hike up the prices. Then what? We’ll have to pay even more for cocaine? Damn it all…that would be a shame, wouldn’t it?

I wonder who’s going to get the blame when Mexico is finally taken by these fuckers. How long after that will they try to take Texas and other border states? Because they won’t stop. Bullies never get enough. Till you speak to them in their language…violence. In the end, I wonder who will fire the first shot. That’s all.