Tattoo you

Tattoos are all the rage these days.  I have enjoyed viewing some of them on other people, but they are just not for me.  I can understand tattoos on Maori warriors, New Guinea tribespeople, aborigines, even scarification if it makes you part of yoor people.  But "something 'tribal'"... oh please  What tribe do you belong to, Ralph?

Body art is fine, but choose it well.  Make it something that really means something to you.  I don't get these people with symbols from other cultures on the back of their necks.

If I ever deigned to get a tat, it would be one of my mantras, creeds, words to live by, like... "momento mori" or "Whatever.  It's all good."

One of my cousins has an Inuit whale on the small of her back.  She always wanted to be a trainer at Sea World.  She says if she can't ride a whale a whale is gonna ride her.  OK.

And I worked with a woman... I asked her just out of the blue one day, "Got any tattoos?"  She was happy to pull down her pants and lift her blouse for everyone to see an enormous woman in a green dress down her back.  Didn't get to see much because the boss came by just then and said "Sasha! Pull up your pants!"  Damn!

I loved a woman with roses adorning a breast.  I honored them as things with meaning to her.  It made no difference to me.  I envied the ink for being in her skin.

My problem is that tattoos are popular.  Honey, fashions change.  They aren't as easy to discard as a yellow LIVESTRONG bracelet. And if you think "I can always have it removed" then why get it in the first place?

I would be happy to hear from you on this.  Got any tattoos?

1318

 

I just can't

I just can't please everyone.  I am having enough of a time just doing the things I need to do for myself.  I can't see my aged father as often as he would like.  (Dad... you married her, now live with her! I also have to say that the telephone has two ends, Dad.)  I cannot see all my friends as often as they would like.  I have nothing to give to this gal from middle school who keeps calling me again and again.  Someday I will have to journal about her.  She is kind of tragic.  I saved her from marriage with a con-artist... over the phone, pretty much by saying... "Are you sure?"

The last time I talked she told me she had gone bi-.  Oi.  I think she was trying to be like me.  Crap.  This entry is taking an ugly turn.  Look... sometimes we leave the past behind us.  They say that is a healthy thing to do!  But this isn't what I want you to take from this journal entry... but maybe it is more important than knowing I can't do everything.  So let me reiterate:

 Look... sometimes we leave the past behind us.  They say that is a healthy thing to do!

 

weighing...

I am single.  I am learning the perils of public honesty.  I have decided that I am happy being honest and am fully aware that there are consequences to honesty.  I attempt to not hurt anyone, but there is nothing in my journal I wouldn't tell you.  I might have to take a while to choke it out, but I would say it.  What I say could be more raw but some degree of temperance is good.  The primary reason for telling the truth is that you don't have to remember anything.  Liars have to track lies, remember who they told what to.  Liars are still loved, but truth-sayers are much more trusted... and trust is important to love. And love is the way.

What I am weighing this morning is two women.  One I know cares for me.  The other I will meet this afternoon.

One said that if I tangle with the other, she will be off limits forevermore. Hmmm.

Well, to be honest, neither of them are "the one."  I think I may have let "the one" dump me last November.  But how do I know I don't have two "ones?"

Sex with the second woman in question would be wild and dangerous.  Sex with the first could be really great.  If her hug is any indication what the full-tilt boogie is all about... look out!  Yes I have already "known her," but there is more we could do.

I am going to "go with the flow" today and try to keep my head firmly attached....

The consequences of dealing with bi-sexuals resound in my head.  The second woman said she has not been with a woman... not all the way, at least.  She said she was with a man a week ago.  My friend the Bear says never let them see your twinkie on the first date.  I think that is fabulous advice.

I've got a date.

You would never call me intrepid....  I have a date Sunday.  My first bi. (Bi-curious, actually.) What do I think I am doing?  I have no idea.  Absolutely no idea.  Playing with fire.  Juggling knives.

No... enough people have called me bold (among other things.)

I don't feel safe... and that's okay. 

My ace:  I have something she wants: Sapphic knowledge.

My bad:  What an uppity, conceited ass!  Who do I think I am?

My fault:  I have been warned about straight/bi- women.  What the hell am I doing?

I apologize...

I'm talking to you, enjoying you... and then the IM conversation drops off.  It is not like me to just go.  What is happening is that I am falling, or have fallen, asleep.  It's not you, babe!

heat monkey

I love to be warm.  When my thermometer points to 6O Fahrenheit, I am in a quandary over turning on a heater or not.  78 F is ideal for me.

It's true, I was in Maine for four years.  I thrived in the cold.  But cold in Florida is a bone-chilling cold.  Cold in New England is invigorating, makes you frisky as a puppy.

I sleep with blankets all year long. I rarely use the air-conditioner.  I always have a sweater handy at work.  I run fans.  This trailer is pretty well insulated.  It's cozy to open or close a window.  I relish getting into my car at lunchtime.  The heat sweeps over my skin.  It feels glorious after being vacuum-packed in air conditioning all day.

At the same time, I am not the sort who goes out to sunbathe at high noon with a bottle of oil.  I don't enjoy baking my skin.  I don't enjoy getting sweaty, either, not without a good reason.

I don't like much ice in my drinks, either.  I drink soda and water at room temperature.  Cold troubles my sinuses.  People sometimes find it freakish that I don't like ice.  They can't relate.  It is an alien concept.  If that seems odd to them how do they manage to make it in the world with such small minds?

There are other "bizarre" things about me.  I do not watch television in my own home.  I do watch movies on DVD and VHS and hear the radio news in my car.  I do not miss television at all.  There is so little that redeems it, except for shows which educate and uplift.  And there is so much else to do. I have people to visit and blogs to write.  I have work to do.  And dreams to dream.

52000 bps

I am bad at arithmetic.  I can make change in my head... unless it is late in the day, something after 3 when I start to go brain-dead and need a blood sugar boost.

52000 bps is the maximum bytes per second this computer receives when I sign in to AOL.  Sometimes I don't get nearly that much but I am in no way complaining.  This computer is fast enough for the likes of me.  You should see the tired old thing I was using before!  I used to fall asleep waiting for pages to open.

Let's do some vanity math.  Approximately 1101 openings of this journal were had by Sunday.  Now I am at 1275.  That's about 40 people a day.  Maybe three of each pages openings are me.

I am curious to know if I have return readers, if my readers are people I have spoken with or actually know, if they are new, if they are one-timers, where they are, who they are and what they had for breakfast!

If you want to chat with me or make a comment, you can e-mail me at Virage65@aol.com.  I don't guarantee a response, but I welcome your input.

While we're at it, I am available for a $75/hour consulting fee!  Pretty darn cheap if you ask me.  Most counselors are $100/hour, so I'm a bargain!

Peace!