I hate old men with hats, vol 2

It's no surprise that I believe old men with hats should not be allowed to roam around in public, unsupervised.

Here's reason #2 why I hate old men with hats.

Just the other day, I was in the Superstore parking lot (why does it always happen here?), having just finished up some banking and rush shopping, and was in a hurry to make it home in time to catch Michael J. Fox on Rachel Ray, with just mere minutes to spare.

I pulled out of my prime parking spot and proceeded down the lane between the parked cars....only to be slowed down by none other than an OLD MAN with a hat, COMPLETE with cane, who took it upon himself to slowly saunter in THE MIDDLE OF THE LANE to either his car, which must have been parked in the very last spot at the end of the row, or to the bingo hall, b/c bingo goes on all day for seniors across the street.

So what SHOULD have taken me less than 20 seconds (maneuvering my way out of the lot) ended up taking 7 minutes. 7 MINUTES!!! Unacceptable!

So I'm starting a petition - GET OLD MEN WITH HATS OFF OUR PUBLIC STREETS AND OUT OF OUR PARKING LOTS UNLESS THEY ARE ASSISTED BY SOMEONE OF SOUND MIND AND BODY WHO CAN GUIDE THEM OUT OF OUR WAY WHEN WE'RE USING THE ROADS.

Currently listening to: Donovan leaving a message on the answering machine!

I'm "cool" now!!!

Well, I'm pleased to report that I didn't yak or cry at all like I thought I would!

I GOT TATTOOED!

(now I just need to get screwed and glued, and I'll be complete...!) lol

Here's me, just after lunch and just before my appointment, keeping my fingers crossed in hopes that I survive my adventures at Soul Survivors!

And here's Dono, showing some love to the polar bear....(just had to throw that in cuz he was doing everything he could to crack me up and keep me calm!)

Here's the amazing Carly at Soul Survivors, working her tattooing magic!

And here's the finished product! (It's still pretty red, but I'm thinkin' that'll go away eventually!)

The reason I've been so excited to get this done is, well, for one, I've wanted a tattoo for YEARS, but never really knew what I wanted, what to get. And I didn't want to get one just for the sake of getting one. I wanted it to be special.

And this one, my first tattoo, has special meaning.

You see, for years, I had to put up with comments from strangers - comments like, "When are you due?" And when I told them I wasn't pregnant, just "fat", they wouldn't believe me. I always had a big belly, and just assumed I was predisposed to carrying all my weight in my stomach. I did everything I could - became an ephedrine addict, even. For years, I was addicted to the stuff, and I threw out a LOT of money on those tiny little damaging pills. I did crash diets. I starved myself. I put my body through a lot of crap, and inside, I was suffering.

Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. Nothing I did would make my stomach go away, my efforts were relentless, and I was failing myself. I hated myself for it.

Along came Donovan, the greatest man of all, and he saw past my insecurities, fell in love with me for me - got me off my "drug addiction", and told me every day how beautiful I was and how much he loved me. (Note: that shouldn't be past tense, he still does this every day! Awww!)

He never thought my belly was something to be concerned about - we all just assumed that it was fat (and after a lot of research on the net, my self-diagnosis told me I had copious amounts of visceral fat, and I needed to drastically change my lifestyle). He supported me in my decisions to lead a healthier lifestyle - we went for walks together in the evenings (when it was warmer out), we ate vegetables more often, drank more water. I never went to a dr about my stomach - I didn't need to hear a dr tell me I had to do more sit-ups.

As much as I was in denial, I was fighting depression.

After Dono and I got married, we tried to get pregnant right away, and after 2 yrs of trying, no luck. I figured it was because I was overweight - so I joined Weight Watchers! Why not try to lose a few pounds the HEALTHY way? Well, I did - lost 20lbs right out of the gate, but still, no baby.

After 2 yrs of trying, we went to a fertility dr, who discovered I had a massive cyst growing in my belly.

(My first reaction, instead of OH MY GOD, AM I GOING TO DIE? was, DID YOU HEAR THAT, DONOVAN? THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME! I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE A BEACH BALLY BELLY! I'M GONNA GET FIXED!)

I can't tell you how many nights I would lay awake in bed, poking at my rock hard stomach (which was the size of a beach ball, no lie), and just wish someone would stick a needle in it and pop it.

Well, on September 26, 2006, that's exactly what they did.

I lost nearly 35lbs that day, in a matter of an hour and a half.

They drained 16L of fluid from my belly.

That day changed my life.

This tattoo is representative of that amazing time in my life - a time when all my years of depression, of mental anguish and self-hate came to an end, and a new Cat was on the horizon.

The tattoo consists of 16 flowers and buds of freesia, located on the left side of my torso (b/c this is where the cyst started, and where I have permanent internal damage - a left fallopian tube and ureter that are essentially cranked) - 16 to represent the number of litres drained from my belly, freesia to represent my love for my husband - those were flowers in my wedding bouquet, and Donovan was there with me, every step of the way, from wreckless nurses jabbing needles in my arms for bloodwork, to my cancer scare, to having him spend every day and every night with me in the hospital, crunched into an uncomfortable chair, never leaving my side.

The butterfly represents the incredible change, and the way I feel - I was always hiding behind big baggy clothes, and now, I've emerged from my "cocoon", a more confident and self-assured woman, filled with joy and a zest for life that I never knew I could have. (I mean, marrying Donovan gave me that, of course - but this was a whole new level of it that I never realized I could have.)

This is why I've been so excited to get my "ink" done. Now if only I can find the confidence to wear a 2-pc bathing suit come summertime so I can show it off at the beach! Oh wait - sun fades the colours.....better stick with the one-pc, but at least now, I can throw away my swimming moomoo!

Now if only the dr's can find some cysts in my arse....due to the size of it, I'm pretty sure I have a few socked away in there!

I've enjoyed my tattoo experience so much, I've already started planning out my next one! I think I've become a tattoo addict!

Currently listening to: Everywhere You Go - Shawn Mullins

MIA, but back in the saddle! Following: My rant on Stupid Kids

Ok, so enough harassment (Tracy!), I'm back in blogger-land!

So many little events have occurred, so many blog-worthy incidences - and every single time something happened, I'd look at Dono and say, "I'm SO gonna blog about that!", and never do.

BAH!

Life gets in the way sometimes, and with all the other side projects I've got going on, I hate to say it, but my BLOBBING got put on the back burner. It hasn't been the first time, and it certainly won't be the last.

But I did manage to snap some shots of something I've been meaning to BLOB about for a while, so without further ado, here's my latest "I'm SO gonna blog about THAT!" idea!

First off, before I attach the photos, I have to say - we live in the North End.

Albeit, the "good" part of the North End. (This is what the cop told us to reassure us we were going to be ok after we got broken into over 2 yrs ago....but before Dono's windshield got smashed and his stereo stolen...I digress..!)

Now, it's no secret that the North End has it's stigmas, has certain trigger images that pop into one's mind when they hear the mere mention of this part of the city.

As much as I can, I'd like to stress that these things happen ALL OVER our fair city. But no other areas have the bad rap that our little neck o' the woods has.

Unfair? Perhaps. And I always wanted to keep my mother reassured that our neighbourhood IS safe, and that it was ok for her to come over and visit us! But our neighbourhood, although we live in the "good" part of the North End, has unfortunately not managed to escape the besmirchment associated with it's larger community connection.

Our back lane has been graffititicized* (*my new word).

Now, this is NOT uncommon, but the content of the tags has me a tad concerned.

I give the kidlets credit for expressing their creativity through artistically adorning other peoples' properties, but for God's sake, children, if you're going to do something like that, then show your parents or legal guardians that skipping school to spray paint garage doors ISN'T affecting your academic achievements....LEARN TO SPELL!

Otherwise, if you're going to tag someone's property, spelling the words wrong doesn't make us appreciate or support your artistic development - and we can all agree, THAT'S what the kids are looking for - respect as an artist!

My advice to you - stay in school, learn to spell words properly, and THEN, you can spray paint the hell out of whatever you want! Just do it properly!



















Or perhaps the joke is on us.....perhaps "Drugtonw" and "Blodds" ARE real words, and WE'RE the academically-challenged generation.

Boy, that's egg on my face. ;)

Currently listening to: The Plumb Song - Snow