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Archive for the ‘Entertainment’ Category

Inked

Last week, I took the plunge and finally got my first tattoo!

Maybe I should have gotten a tattoo of my BlackBerry?

Right after that picture was taken, he said, “Ooops, I think I squirted in your pants.”  And then we laughed a whole lot.

Ta-da!

Fluctuat nec Mergitur – Latin, meaning “Tossed by the waves, she does not sink”.

Questions I’ve been asked so far:

Why now?  A few reasons, but I chose to do it at the close of 2010 because it was an extremely painful year, and I wanted to end it with pain that was on my own terms, of my own choosing.  In short, I wanted to make 2010 my bitch, if only in my own mind.

So, did it hurt?  No, but I have an extremely high tolerance for pain (of the physical sort) and anyway, it’s the thought that counts.

Why on your belly?  Originally I wanted to get my first tattoo around my left wrist.  I’m planning a career change, though, so I thought it would be wise to choose a spot that wouldn’t be an issue if tattoos are frowned upon in a clinical setting.  The lower belly just seemed like a good fit.  And, yeah, I know it’s a popular spot for gang tattoos.  At least I didn’t get a tramp stamp.

Are you sure Fluctuat nec Mergitur means what you think it means?  What if it really means, “I like to party?”  The meaning of this particular phrase is actually quite well known, since it’s the motto of the City of Paris.  “I like to party” is more of a Paris Hilton kind of motto.

Are you happy with it?  Yes, absolutely and completely.  It’s larger and higher up than I was planning, but once I saw the design, I knew it was perfect and just went for it.  I could not be happier.  I fondle it often.  I’m very fond of the fondling.

Will you get another one?  I’m already thinking about what I’ll get next… but I have some other business to attend to, first.

Where did you get it done?  Here by him.  If you’re in the Sac.ramento area and are looking to get inked, now you know where to go!

Also, special thanks to Kelly for going with me, being my photographer (as always) and for the party-in-my-mouth sushi we enjoyed afterward!

7500 Miles

One of the people I’ve reconnected with recently is my beloved cousin Nicholas, who is currently serving a tour of duty in Afghanistan.

We’ve been through a lot together, Nick and I.  He’s definitely someone I’d want to have in my life even if we weren’t related and didn’t have dozens of blackmail-worthy stories to tell about each other.

Nick is a music lover, through and through, and has even played me a song or two on his guitar whenever we’ve gotten together, without me having to twist his arm too very hard.  When I confessed that I only just came into possession of an ipod, he  stepped up to the plate to help me fill it.

And by the way – that is exactly the reason I haven’t bothered to get an ipod until now.  Choosing songs seems like a daunting task, especially for someone who doesn’t have a lot of time to browse through the millions available on itunes.

Each day, Nick sends me the lyrics to a song, I read it, YouTube it, and if I like it, I buy it from itunes and download it to my ipod.  Sounds complicated, I know, but it’s really not.

Let me just say, this is an amazing way to discover music.

For the most part, he sends me songs I’ve never heard, which makes the lyrics read like amazing poetry.  Some of the songs can make me cry or laugh or say, “Fuck yeah!” before I’ve ever even heard the words set to music.

And then once I do hear the songs, I feel like I appreciate them in a way I wouldn’t have, otherwise.  Especially since Nick and I have very different tastes in music.  Or at least we did, before he started schooling me on the art of “real” music.  Although, to this I say: Whatever, dude!  Top 40 is music whether you like it or not!

I’m so glad Kellydropped an ipod in my lap, and that I’m filling it in such a unique way.  And I love that even though Nick and I are 7500 miles apart, he can still brighten my day with music.

So tell me: Are there any songs y’all think are an absolute must for my music library?  Help a girl out!

Vegas, WalkTheRope Style

Last weekend in Las Vegas, I….

… Formed my own posse since the rodeo was in town. 

Fortunately Ash, Meghan and Ali graciously offered up their husbands Kevin, DJ and Gav so that it wouldn’t be a lonely one-woman show.

The smiles in the above photo were sponsored entirely by Crown Royal Black.  Those drink ladies followed us around the entire time, pushing their little samples.  Although, now that I think about it, they probably just wanted to join my kick ass rodeo posse.

 *

… Learned how to lap dance and work the pole at a Stripper101 class

 **

… Watched Elvis officiate Brittany and Andy’s “I Still Do” vow renewal at the fabulous Rumor Boutique Hotel.

 **

… Ate sushi off of a naked geisha

**

and also had the best Sliders on the planet, made by chef Vic Vegas.

… Got to hang out with people I absolutely love, like Maura, Meghan, Greis, Heather and Mike, as well as a few I’ve only just begun to stalk  adore. 

me with Greis **

… Had such a fantastic time.  It was so much fun, and it was all thanks to the lovely women behind Mouth Media.  Heather, Brittany and Shauna: Thank you, ladies!  You throw one hell of a party!

I never even took my camera out of my bag, so photo credits above go to:

* Greis  and  ** MouthMedia / Heather Spohr

The Real Mommy

Standing on line at the grocery store today, I saw this:

I have no idea what the article inside says, but the headline, “Who’s the Real Mommy?” is enough.  I don’t read that particular magazine, so maybe their goal is to offend people buying groceries all across the nation.  If so, goal accomplished, National Enquirer.  Kudos.

In my twenties, I was an ovum donor for two couples who had exhausted all other possibilities to have children, short of adoption.  The road they traveled to get to that place – where they needed my donated eggs – was long and difficult, not to mention expensive.  And even with my help, there was no guarantee that the embryos, implanted via IVF, would result in successful pregnancies or, eventually, the births of babies they had spent years trying to conceive.

I saw that magazine and immediately thought of those two women, now mothers of children they carried inside their wombs and have nurtured and mothered and loved, for so many years, and it hurt me – deeply hurt me – to imagine them standing on line at their own grocery stores and being smacked in the face by such a horrid headline.

“Who’s the Real Mommy?”

To suggest that I am the “Real Mommy” of those children is beyond my comprehension.  I did the injections, grew the eggs, and went through extraction, but the moment they left my body they were no longer mine.  The children they came to be contain my DNA, my genetics, and may even look like me, but I am not their “Real Mommy”.  I never have been, and I never will be.

Their Real Mommy is the one who wanted them so badly that she went to the ends of the Earth to have them.  Their Real Mommy is the one that went through years of disappointment and was finally able to carry them, birth them, and love them in a way that only she could.  Their Real Mommy is the one who held them in the first moments of life, who looked at their little newborn faces and knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that they were hers – not mine.

Their Real Mommy is the one who cried tears of joy as she rocked them to sleep in those first few months, nursed them through countless illnesses and kissed their first skinned knees.  Their Real Mommy brings cupcakes to school on their birthdays and reads their favorites stories a thousand times.  Their Real Mommy knows how to make them laugh, dries their tears, tucks them into bed at night, and loves them to the moon and back, because they are hersnot mine

I can foolishly hope that neither of those women will go to the grocery store this week.  Unfortunately, though, even without the idiot media publishing hurtful headlines, I know those women – those mothers –  have dealt with plenty of ignorant people who have that kind of attitude.  I deal with them, too – the people who think I’m crazy for giving away “my” children.  But they’re not my children

And they are the greatest gifts I have ever given.

English is Speak Becoming Hardness

I’m neck deep, so go see The Oatmeal and have a good laugh: Why Working From Home is Both Awesome and Horrible

Yeah, it’s like that.  EXACTLY.  Now excuse me while I get back to work… at home.