birthdays!!

this is the weekend of birthdays like none other:

Trigger is 22 today! holy crap that's old

me and my baby

and baby is 1 year old tomorrow

baby Autumn

Autumn and her mom

and for the hell of it mom again, my sis Amanda

I need a better picture of trigger. but happy birthday everyone, I love you guys

people that hate their cats

For people that have cats but really don't like them, a new and interesting art form:

cat painting! i kid you not, bring boring old fluffy to an artist and in no time it'll have an exciting and adorable look.

Belly dancer and kitty

Not for the clown-phobic owner

Cat as matching accessory


Another kilt kitty

Trying to be fiercer than a house-pet

My favorite: LEMUR KITTY!!!

This is an actual practice, the paint fades in a few weeks and it has to be re-done. if you can get your hair dyed, i guess you can get furball dyed to match now.

frost fire badge

for those of you boyscouts, you know what that means. any camping where the temperature drops below freezing is cause for a frost fire merit badge. camping this weekend was very interesting... i have mild frostbite and moderate sunburn. what a combination!
i didn't actually get to fight, seeing as i live in constant fear of messing up my back piece, and i don't want to rip any scabs off, but there were still fun times and things that i'm sure i'll look back on and laugh later.
we left thursday for hidden springs park, and set up our tent in the dark and cold, amidst many other tents. there was a main fire in the center of a circular road, lined with seperate camp sites for each area that attended. enter a great night of tent sex, and the next day we went to the fighting field. i got to sit on the sidelines and watch, because as already mentioned, i'm a puss.
that night, we drank. there were many funny stories told by the camp fire and at least one person melted their boots. but that was where the good times ended. a friend of mine drank to the point of concern for his health, and proceeded to collapse drunk on my legs and pass out, while i was standing. another friend of ours kept a vigil from 10pm until 5am, not sleeping and having to accept any challenges presented (this is a trial that some can choose to go through to achieve a high status in the sport. he has kept his vow of not drinking, also required, for over a year). one visitor challenged him to a battle of wits. this person was drunk, so it didn't last long.
elsewhere in the campground, a kid from our area locked himself in a port-o-john. he broke the base that the seat was on doing whatever the hell it was he did, and then, being unable to figure out how to slide the handle back to open the door, convinced himself someone had locked him in and kicked the door open, breaking both the occupancy sign and the lock. fucker... he later passed out in a ditch and when good sumaritan passersby couldn't get him up to go to his tent, they brought his tent to him and manhandled him into it.
back at our friend's vigil, at about 1 or 2, i went back to my tent to try and sleep. it began to rain. poor thing had to sit out for hours in the pourning rain with only a passed-out drunk for company. and he couldn't drink. the next day, when fighting of everyone from our area in a row and then the ceremony to present him with his title were supposed to occur, everyone went home instead. so he still can't drink.
we spent saturday freezing, giving up and going into the nearest town to walmart to gather cold-weather gear and to thaw, and then all 6 of us huddled in the same tent that night. sunday we packed up and went home. a total of two nights had below-freezing temperatures, and one day was cold and muddy as hell.
looking back, it isn't funny to me yet.

go big or go home

good news everyone!
this weekend i am going camping at hidden springs park, a forest preserve with space for tents and no showers, with the fighting group i am in. we get together, dress up in reniassance clothing, and beat the hell out of each other with pvc pipe or kitespar, wrapped in foam. the national organization we're under is called belegarth.
the main idea is that 500-600 of us get together and set up tents, then fight. when the sun sets and it gets to freakin' cold to fight (cold foam hurts like a bitch), we dress up and eat a formal feast and then get tanked. there is a big fire in the main area and there is usually fire performances and belly dancing. also epic fights and people being zip-tied in their tents.
the next day, we stumble out of our tents (or cut our way out, if we've been tied) into the cold air, choke down coffee, and go back to the field to fight with a hang-over. we have an identical day, and then the next morning we pack our shit and go home.

i can't wait! we leave thursday night or friday morning.

cold

i have found that april being "sexual assault awareness month" is a constant source of aggravation for me, as i am very well aware that i was sexually assaulted and i do not wish to be reminded of it every time i see a poster or flyer or table tent in the food centers.
today is the one year anniversary of a terrible event in my life, and i'm really sick of seeing the lines
"if you have been the victim of a sexual assault, call our hotline" - i don't want to call a damn hotline
"talk to a professional" - gee, tell my story to a stranger, how the hell does one start that conversation?
"let us help you heal" - maybe i'm okay with being damaged, maybe i'm afraid that if i start to talk, i'll have to deal with it and i can't do that. maybe i'm afraid to try to breach the walls that hold all of this pain and self-loathing in, because they keep me strong and keep me going.
i think i may have an illness of the soul, i have been unable to get warm for the past few days. even curled up on the couch, covered in blankets, with a friend who is a verifiable space heater, skin sweating, i feel cold.
i'm so sick of this affecting my life, and i don't know how to fix it. i don't want to open these old wounds and try to heal them better, i don't want to think about the things that were done to me. i just want to forget that it happened and hope that i can find the pieces of myself that i lost in carol stream. if i can deal for a year, i'd like to think i can be okay.
why does that sound so hollow, even to me?

i have dated men and women, young and old, smart and stupid, beautiful and not-so-pretty. and now i'm dating a 21 year old guy who is damn smart in all the ways to balance me, with a very nice face and the most amazing brown eyes.
but more than the eyes or the incredible prowess in bed, are the things that he says, out of the freakin' blue.
sitting in the car, driving me back to my room so that he can drive the two hours home to get to work in the morning, we were talking about shoes. i am 5'10'' normally, 5'11'' on a good day. he is about the same height, having maybe half an inch on me tops. this can be problematic because i own many pairs of heels. this is not to say that i wear them often - given the option i am barefoot and happy - but i do own them for the occaisonal time when i need to impress.
so i asked the question that we all know the answer to - "do you think i look better in heels or flatfoot?". the question came up because neither of us likes me being much taller than him, but we've all been told from day one that in heels we get "ass out tits up" and it looks damn good.
he said he prefered my posture flatfoot. - well obviously, if i'm taller than him.
not standing next to me, but looking from a distance, still prefers flatfoot. - what?
he said it was more like me, and more comfortable. but beyond that, he told me that i am more attractive to him as i am, not as heels could make me.
i love him so much. never before have i been told that i am better as i am, not as i could be made. most agree i'm pretty well put together and i clean up nice, but never that i was better the way i came.
i don't know what to do with myself!
is this a normal sentiment in other people's lives?
girls - have you ever been told this?
guys - have you ever said it? was it true?

finally finally finally done

after much pain and whining and A&D and hand holding, it is finally done.
and i have pictures:

the left shoulder

the right shoulder

the center


the left bottom

the right bottom

and once again, the thing we've all been waiting for, the piece that will grace the wall of a tattoo studio forever,

the whole freakin' tattoo!!!

tattoo progress

please don't kill me, i know it's been a damn long time since me saying the tat was almost done. when i went on friday to finish it, there was a rush in the shop from the time i got there until an hour and a half after they closed and i do not want a tired tattoo artist anywhere near me.
but, for all the waiting and lamaze breathing, IT IS DONE!!!!
i can't post the pics until probably tomorrow, but for the love of god, it is finished. and it is lovely.

tangent - i went to the gas station today to get a carton fo smokes as tip for my artist, and spent a while talking to the nice smoke-tanned and skinnied woman behind the counter. i showed her mine and she showed me hers, and we started talking about the shops in town. there are two main tattoo shops in bloomington/normal (by main i mean they don't have to advertize on TV for clients), and alas, my shop is moving. only a few hours south, but that means that the only shop in town now (or very soon) is run by a short creepy guy with too many neck tattoos and an unhealthy interest in body modifcation and scarification.
as i came to that realozation i thought to myself "that's just scary".