Unmarked

I have always wanted to get a tattoo.  But I hesitated because I have sensitive skin.  I found out that some tattoos have metal in them and I'm allergic to a lot of metals.

Examples include:

• When I was 22 I had 3 silver fillings fall out within 5 days. 
• I was unable to wear my class ring because it caused a rash
• If I wear cheap metal jewelry it will turn my skin red in a matter of minutes.
• I tried to have my ears pierced twice and both times it failed to heal so I had what amounted to an open wound for several months each time before giving up.

Currently I have 4 noble-metal crowns and I have replaced all of my fillings with porcelain.  Part of my dental issues are that I have crappy teeth, but the other part is my silver fillings reacted badly with my chemistry and caused further tooth issues.  The teeth can be discussed further in a later post.  I can tell you horror stories that will leave you flossing after every meal.

So, no tattoo for Melissa.

As I got older I researched hypo-allergenic inks and options for designs.  I decided since I am a firm believer in science I would get the equation for the Higgs-Boson particle. It is also referred to as the "God particle" because it supposedly has the potential to be the primary component that created the universe.  I took physics in high school and watched a few documentaries on PBS and am therefore not an expert.

I would get something like this:

Or this:

But considering my knowledge is limited I fear that I have no idea what either means.  I just think it looks cool.  That's what most tattoos represent, right?  "It looked cool so I permanently affixed it to my skin."

I also like this:

In case you aren't a geek it's the T.A.R.D.I.S or what Doctor Who and his companions travel through space and time with. 

When I met Charles I told him what a geek I was and presented him with the image of an equation I wanted to get tattooed on my back.  He casually said that he wasn't into tattoos and I admitted that I didn't have any and that was the end of the discussion.

Then I saw this:

It's a white line tattoo and it makes me happy. There is no metal in white ink. To me it looks lovely and classy and beautiful.  When I brought it to Charles' attention he said, "I'm really not into tattoos.  They will take away your girl-next-door cred and I have issues with that."  We have had long discussions and he has pointed out beautiful girls with "She doesn't have any girl-next-door cred..."  And that's what attracts him to me.

So... no tattoos.  Hmph... 

Today I was in Whole Foods.  Everywhere I looked there were men and women with tattoos.  It is an accepted practice in today's society to get them.  Then I saw a guy with a tattoo on his face.  Really?... on your face?  The only place you can get a job with that is Whole Foods.  

So I realized that I was likely the only person in there over the age of 30 that didn't have a tattoo in the store.  You know what?  That makes me a rebel.  And that's a perfect excuse not to get one.  I'm satisfied.

Rule Number 5

So this story gets a little raunchy at the end.  If you're bothered by that, stop here and enjoy the rest of your day.  If not, carry on, friend, carry on.

So last night I go to visit my friend Amy who is now the proud human to my former cat Buddha.  We all used to live together.  When my ex husband, who got Buddha in the divorce, fizzed out, I called Amy.  She did me a solid and took him in.

I like to visit them because Amy is my friend and I have known and loved Bu since he was a kitten.  He was my cat and I was his biscuit.  He has spent many hours on my lap making biscuits.  My ex finally broke him of the habit until the last time I went to visit Amy and he sat right in my lap and went to kneading my belly.

I understood the parking policy in her apartments to be that I could park in any uncovered spot.  I did not see the big sign that said if I did not live there I was at risk of being towed.  Last night I walked to my car and it was missing.  I panicked thinking it had been stolen and then Amy said, "Oh, they tow here."  What a relief... Someone legally stole my car.  I can at least bribe them to give it back to me.  The bribe cost me $193.10.

I got there and it was of course a neckbeard.  He was about 5'2" and 600 pounds.   He made us wait 20 minutes while he finished his World of Warcraft game and finally said, "It'll be $193.10."  How specific... I grumbled and not a single fuck was given.  I was subjected to his whims if I wanted my car back.

Later after all of this was over I called Charles.  I was in a shitty mood.  I speculated, "He may have had someone sucking his dick back there in order to get her car back."

Of course Charles said, "It wasn't you was it?"

I indignantly said, "NO! I promised you I wouldn't suck anyone's dick. If he said that was the only way I could get it I would've called you."

Then he said, "Oh, so I'd have to suck his dick to get your car?  I'm sorry Babe, but I don't love you that much."

At that we both laughed... I laughed so hard I was in tears by the end.  We agreed never to suck anyone's dick even if it is on the other's behalf.

Engaged

So I've sort of tracked our relationship on my blog.  In reality I've ignored my blog to participate in my relationship.

Charles and I met in June 2012 and in August 2013 we agreed to get married.  There was no big proposal or diamond ring or fancy dinner with flowers.  There was a discussion that lead to suggestions and a followup conversation when I announced I was ready to get married and he agreed.

Charles is in two words a good guy.  He had a heart of gold.  He's stable and self-sustaining.  He comes from a good family.  He was raised to respect women.  He treats me like I'm special and though we were a little nervous at first I am a firm believer that he is as nuts about me as I am about him.

When I said I wanted to get married and he agreed, I ran a little victory lap in my head.  I knew when we met I found a guy worth my time, energy and eventually love.  After our first date I ran to my mom and said, "Mom, I really like this guy.  It's like we're equals."  She nodded and continued her online bridge game.

Ever since, I've done everything I could to be right with him.  I have very carefully negotiated the course of having a good relationship.  I didn't get too clingy.  I was kind and rarely fizzed out.  I was honest and genuine with my affection.  Honesty is hard when you're in love with someone because you want them to see the best part of you, not the parts that smudge your credibility or make you potentially unstable.  I told him up front, that I have issues and baggage and I'm imperfect and he agreed to give it a shot.  He isn't perfect either, but in different ways that actually balance us out.

When I announced to my mom that we were getting married.  She was shocked.  She face-palmed and said, "Why would you ruin a perfectly good relationship by getting married?"  Then I announced his intention to take over the dogs and she said, "Sold."  A friend of mine gave me a bottle of champagne, the real stuff, from France.  I will give Mom a glass of it when we open it and that'll help get her on board even more.

I've planned most of the details so now we just have to wait until the actual date.  It is tempting to simply get it over with next week so we don't have to worry about all the unsolicited invitations and hurt feelings.

I see in us the ability to have the forever they say you should have when you're married.  We're crazy about each other and we have similar goals.  We enjoy being together.  We're good friends.  We respect each other's need to have a little space to breathe from time to time.  Mostly we're crazy about each other.  There are moments when I'm not sure I deserve him and then he makes a stupid joke and I figure my imperfections balance in the wash.

Table Manners

Over the last 10 days I have seen one person after another who I wanted to punch in the throat.  This entry is dedicated to all of you.

My boyfriend and I went to Threadgills a few nights ago.  It's home cookin' style restaurant.  It isn't fancy.  You go because you want heaping helpings of meatloaf, mashed potatoes and fried okra.  The food is consistantly good and most people can eat something there.  They are considerate of dietary needs.  The staff are pretty good.  It's a staple in my family.

Table Manner # 1:

If you're too country for Threadgills, you're too country. 

We were having a fine time when a server walked back to this table that was there before we were.  A discussion ensued about how they didn't know they were supposed to be seated by a host.  The server handled it well but my hackles raised when the woman took on an entitled attitude about it all.  They witnessed more than one table being seated by a hostess, mine included. They argued with the server.  They were loud and they threw something at me.

Table Manner # 2:

Don't throw things at other customers.

The first thing that came to mind is, get your ass back to the Waffle House.  

While I was in college the first time I worked at the Waffle House in Garland, TX.  It is what motivated me to run like hell from Dallas.  I was working with men and women I liked but who were in their thirties, making slightly more than minimum wage, driving beat up old cars that they drove into their gang-infested neighborhoods.  I worked the night shift because I was told I'd make more money. LIES.  

We had a full service all-you-can-eat.  I would actually serve up as many plates of greasy eggs, hash browns and waffles as the customers could shove into their drunken faces.  And if I was lucky for a table of four very hungry, very drunk, entitled assholes I would get $2. On a good night, after working 10 hours, I'd have $50 in tips. Even in 1993 that was pretty bad money.

I was molested by customers.  I developed a hellish case of plantar fasciatis. I couldn't keep up with my school work so school became expendable.  The people I worked with were strong, salt of the earth women, mostly who taught me how I was expected to work.  Their teaching methods were rather barbaric at times and they left a wound or two on my heart but every single one of them told me to grow up and get out of there.

I woke up one morning after a particularly painful break up and realized they were right. I would become one of those women if I stayed.  I moved to Austin a month later.  There was no Waffle House in Austin at the time so I was safe.  It wasn't my last food service gig and it certainly wasn't my last customer service gig, but the experience showed me a lot about how rude people can be.

A few days later my boyfriend and I went to Panera Bread.  One part delicious one part filled with yuppie scum who just stand in the middle of everything.  Panera Bread has a way of doing things.  Sometimes it's a bit confusing if you've never been there before but they will provide you with assistance.  Their staff were all lovely.

Table Manner # 3:

Do your best to follow the suggested instructions on how the restaurant manages traffic.

We were seated waiting for our food and there was this guy.  He was disgusting.  He was depositing his trash on other tables.  It didn't seem to bother him that on two separate occasions a member of their staff had to clean up after him.

Table Manner # 4:

No one should have to clean up after you.

When I was at the Waffle house I had to bus my tables and wash my dishes.  I had to wipe down the tables and do the standard clean up.  If your mess extends beyond your table, you have violated #4.  Do your best with your kids.  We understand kids can get messy, but it isn't the service's responsibility to sweep, mop and scrub a mess your child created.

Table Manner # 5:

Don't complicate things.  There are people waiting.

Yesterday was the final straw.  We went to Subway.  A family of five got in ahead of us.  I was about to climb over the counter I was so hungry.  We agreed to eat it in the store until we saw this family.  They did everything they could to slow the poor "sandwich artist" down.

Table Manner # 6:

If you can't afford to eat out, eat in.

The father announced they were to order their food in the cheapest manner possible.  All three children separately went to the bathroom so we had to wait for that.  We had to watch while they made two 12 - inch sandwiches into four 6 - inch sandwiches.  On the outside they seemed like normal, well mannered people, but on the inside they were trashy and cheap.

I told my boyfriend, "We're getting this to go."  I was not hungry enough to let any more people distract my dining experience.

My boyfriend leaned in and whispered to me, "Blog."

This is just as much about customer service as it is about being customers.  In all three restaurants the staff acted appropriately.  They acted as their employers would want them to act.  They made a good faith effort to make these people who were complicated, rude and entitled happy.  I would like to congratulate them on their good manners.

Just a few additions to the list and I will end my rant.

Table Manner # 7:

Always tip your server.  20% for good service, 15% for mediocre service and 10% for crappy service.  If they give you crappy service, speak to the manager but do not stiff your server.

Table Manner # 8:

Don't harass the wait staff over things outside their control.

Table Manner # 9:

Each table is money.  If you take up the table for longer than an hour when it's busy, tip accordingly.

And finally, Table Manner # 10:

Be patient.  There are violators of the list who are unfortunately ahead of you.

Moving on

This weekend I went and enjoyed a bit of nature.  No, really, there was actual pleasure and glee involved.

We went to this swimming hole in the middle-of-nowhere-Texas called Krause Springs.  I figured I was in a rental and it didn't matter how many miles I put on it.

I provided the swimmers with a less than graceful entrance.  I'm sure a few were amused.  My butt got torn up with some road rash where I slid over a less than smooth surface, but I still made it into the water with limited injury.

The water was 68 degrees Fahrenheit, so being flung into it abruptly was a huge shock to my system, but the job of adjusting to the water immediately was far better than the torture of inching my way in one slippery step at a time.

We stayed for a few hours and had a picnic lunch.  I got over my issues with things that live in the water except for a few times when my boyfriend teased me.  When something crawled over my foot I decided I'd had enough.  We ate, drank a beer that was oddly good and refreshing.  Shiner Ruby Red grapefruit beer is surprisingly good.  And that's coming from a non-beer-drinker.

When I got home I didn't see the truck with the guy who slashed up my car and only wondered briefly where he was.  Apparently he's gone now.  I haven't seen the truck since Saturday morning so I hope he was just here to visit.  Regrettably I won't be able to slather his truck with gay rights stickers but that's probably for the best.

I got my car back today and I'm happy to be back in it.  I got to drive a Volkswagen Beetle for 10 days and it was fun and cute and drove really well, but it wasn't my car.  I love my car.  It's not cute and doesn't handle as well, but it's mine.  Life is resuming some degree of normalcy.

Current State of Affairs

My car got keyed a few nights a go.  Actually someone took a knife to it and did $2,400 worth of damage.  5 panels have to be repainted and the glass on my hatchback has to be replaced. Someone thinks I'm scum.  He hates me and everything I represent.  I wonder if it's because I'm a liberal.  I wonder if he thinks I'm a lover of black men and homosexuals who kills babies in my spare time.  (Plug in a few racial slurs to derive what I believe he really said.)

On Facebook I left the following comment: 

To the person who keyed my car. FYI. I spent many hours helping to get President Obama reelected. I spent 60 hours the last 4 days of the campaign helping him win Florida. We won. Key that.

I got a lot of feedback from my friends.  I had to clarify this person does not represent all Republicans because he, I assume this is a man, is a vandal and a creep.  He may not even vote.  He's just too stupid to form a sophisticated opinion that doesn't include retaliation for free speech.

I parked next to a huge black truck with Oklahoma plates that night.  It had camo paint and a POW/MIA sticker on the back of it.  I joked with my mom that the truck was so big because he was compensating for something.  I don't know if it was him, but I'd never seen that truck before and the next morning this was done.  Now I see that truck in the parking lot and I don't quite know what to do.

I really don't want to start a fight with someone who drives a big truck with a POW/MIA sticker on it.  It's reasonable to conclude he has a gun.  If this person has moved to my complex then when I get my car back I have to wonder if it will just happen again.

We are moving in September but how many times does my car have to get slashed?  I feel like such a coward because there is nothing I can do to protect myself.  All I can do is hope he will do something for the office to tow him.  Retaliation would only cause this to happen again.

I admit it.  I'm afraid of wingnuts with guns and this guy has proven himself to be one.  He told me to shut up and I'm still a loudmouth online but I'm really concerned about what he'll do to my car.  I've never wanted to move more in my life than I do right now.

Indie Cred

Indie Cred is what my boyfriend refers to as the stuff that makes us cool.  We like independent entertainment.  We like to watch the movies at the arthouse theater.  We don't need to pay $100 for tickets to a concert when there is someone far more talented playing on East 6th street for $5 or free at Central Market.  We are open minded and therefore we have a high level of Indie Cred.

So I have to confess... For some reason I got the wild hair to watch the Twilight Saga.  There are spoilers.  If you still respect me enough to continue reading this you should know I have written the crux of the plot in the next paragraph.

For those of you who haven't read the books, it is about a vacant, nondescript teenage girl who has two beautiful and almost perfect men fall in love with her.  She has to choose between the beautiful and perfect Edward and the hulking hot-blooded man-flesh, Jacob.  She chooses Edward.

It took Stephanie Meyer 2,000 pages to tell the story.  Sure other stuff happens, but it's all centered around an awkward girl coming into her own with a vampire.

The reasons why this series of books sucks are:

1. It is written for teenage girls who want to feel like the main character.  I mean what girl doesn't want the choice of two incredibly hot men?  She claims to be tortured by it... NO.

2. It was written with Mormon values.  No one has sex before they're married.  In real life, she'd be doing both of them and asking for forgiveness if she got caught.  We were all in high school once and sure there were a few who hadn't had sex but by our senior year, those who could were fucking whenever they could regardless of the appropriateness.

3. This woman stretched out this stupidity for 4 books and made millions and millions of dollars.  I have to admit I actually read the books and paid for them.  I only realized with her 5th book, The Host, what a truly terrible writer she is.

So, having read the books and knowing how terrible the stories are I was compelled to watch all five movies.  I sat through them face-in-palm for a good bit of the time.  There wasn't even any guilty pleasure.  It was all bad.

When I confessed to my boyfriend I started with, "And you'll probably break up with me for this..."  He got alarmed because there I was in front of him and my best friend about to make a break-up worthy confession.  "I watched all 5 Twilight Saga movies."

As he sighed in relief my best friend announced she was going to break up with me.

So last night I started watching a Swedish murder mystery series I was into a few years ago.  There is one with subtitles and one done by the BBC that has a bit more glamour.  I told my boyfriend and he said it was Indie Cred First Aid.  I had to repair it.  So I'm prepared to watch Midnight's Children.  It's based on the book by Salman Rushdie.  It won the best Booker award of all time.  I even have the book but I think I can repair it with the movie.  If I don't feel cleansed I will find something else to purify my independent spirit.