Wednesday, 17 June 2009

Rockin' out with your (insert four-letter word for male parts here) out. And tattoo!

I know I haven’t written in quite some time. I really have no excuse for why except I simply haven’t felt like it. I fully recognize how lazy this sounds. I’ll never be your Martha Stewart. Or your Tracy Flick. Or your beast of burden. What? Moving on.

I did promise you pictures of my tattoo, soooo if you haven’t lost interest I’ve posted the “after” above. Sweet, yes? People ask me what it’s all about, so here it is in a nutshell: I’ve had a crappy couple of years. The big C. Twice. The worst crack head, lying liar head BF ever, and some other family stuff that was really heart-breaking. I kind of shut down for a little while. I drank too much. I still do that. But then I realized, through the support of some great friends, that I am, by nature, a very loving, emotional person. I got this tat as a reminder that it’s OK to wear your heart on your sleeve because no matter what, it will always mend. So there ya go. Corny, but all mine. Forever. On my skin … forever.

I was in Minneapolis all weekend visiting VC. It’s taken until today to make my pancreas, liver and kidneys stop staging a French-style revolution inside my body. Excessive drinking: It’s the new black. (When will this post start making sense? I’ve got $5 on never.)

I met a guy in a bar the night before I left who was wearing a baseball cap that said “Rock out with your cock out.” I took a picture, of course. (This was after drinking two of something called “wondrous punch.” There is a reason for its name.) This was one of the highlights of my weekend, nay, my life. Seriously.

This is not to say the rest of the weekend was any less awesome. I’m coming to quickly love Mpls. Returning to Phoenix was the pits for plenty of reasons. As one of my new besties from MN says it is, indeed, Satan’s asshole here. Worse than the actual weather was getting to my apartment to find that my A/C had gone out and was actually blowing hot air, causing all of my plants to shrivel up and die and Little B. to greet me with his tongue hanging out and his eyes rolled back in his head (he’d only been there a few hours so don’t go calling PETA.)

So I’ve now learned a huge pitfall of the LDR is that you get to have these perfect weekends, but then you have to deal with returning to the empty house and the no BF to snuggle up to, and the absence of giggles over silly jokes. It’s like a hangover on crack.

To remedy this, Martini had me over for dinner and she, friend A. and I played dress up in her closet. Yes, we’re all around three decades old. So? Somewhere there are pictures of me in a skin tight, ass-hugging gold lame mini dress, black chiffon robe, hot pink stilettos, blue scarf and sequined flapper headband – yes, I look like a cross between a broken down Bette Midler in Beaches and an extra tanked Miss Hannigan. Meow.

I spent a few days feeling all forlorn and icky but then I realized that’s just really stupid. I’m happy. I have this great new person in my life. I’m making new friends. I’m seeing new places. There’s absolutely nothing to be sad about.

I know there are lots of you out there who’ve done the LDR – share with me your secrets of dealing with the day after because sooner or later one of these Crazy Flapper on Speed photos is going to leak out.


  1. Jam Out With Your Clam Out!!! You don't think they'd have rock out with your cock out without having a female counterpart, did you? Awesome.
    I hope we play dress up until we're 97. Even then, it should still be an option.

  2. I like the tattoo. It's cute. And as long as it means something to you, I think you'll keep on lovin' it. Like McDonald's. Wait, no. Not like McDonald's, it's kinda gross there.

    You know what I mean.

  3. I love love your tattoo! I wish I wasn't still afraid that if I got one my mother would find out and stop speaking to me.

    Also, that twitter badge is totally awesome.

  4. i have 5 tats and i love your new one! :)

  5. It's a great tattooo and I'm not even a tattoo person.. it's BIGGER than I expected it to be though...

  6. D and I did the LDR for a while. I am not going to lie and say it was great b/c it did suck. But we got through it. You can still IChat and all that good stuff. Cool piece on your arm - meaning is everything and yours has a lot of it so that is what ultimately matters.

  7. Dear A., My 31st birthday present had better be a hat that reads: Jam out with your clam out. That is all.

    shine - weirdly, I always DO know what you mean. This frightens me.

    Thanks holdtheweaksauce. And I've missed your comments. Where ya been?

    Blaez - Spanx!

    Bow Chica Wah Wah - That's what she said. And I still owe you ... frowns.

    Erin - thanks for the cheer up words! Heart you.

  8. So now that you've gotten your 1st tattoo are you already thinking of where you'll get your next? I ALWAYS do that. :) Still can't decide on where to get my 4th.

    As for the LDR, I haven't been in one in AGES but you should try skype. Then you can see him while you talk to him!

  9. Not much in the comforting words dept. The day after just sucks. The only thing I can say is to hang in there! My (now) husband and I did it for 14 months until we Just. Couldn't. Take It. Anymore. I moved, (San Jose, CA to hick-town, OR) we got married 3 years later, and our 6th anniversary is tomorrow. I really wouldn't have changed a thing. LDRs have a way of intensifying things in a relationship, and I felt like we had TALKED so much, that we truly knew each other before I moved. So just hang in there, and when you are hurting more than you are happy, DO something about it, one way or the other! Good Luck :)

  10. Glad to know Martini is still alive! We miss her! and Cute tat