Mi Vida Loca

Don't get me wrong, I love my life, but it's super crazy right now!

This picture encapsulates the schizophrenic nature of my existence. Who reads all of these things at once?

Of course I'm working on the dissertation like a madwoman. Writing always takes longer than I think it will, and bibliographic referencing is the devil's work, so when I take a break from it, I try to do things that sooth me. Thinking about the Sweet Lady Shop is doing that for me.

I'm trying not to work on the shop too much, since, um, I have like a thousand things to do, but it's such an awesome plan that I have a hard time leaving it be. Especially since it depends on my having creative products, so when creativity strikes, I try not to push it away every time. Check out my latest entry, where I break two of my pre-moving rules: buying books and accumulating art supplies. Sorry!

Did I mention that it's almost finals time and I've got Mother's Day this weekend? Jeepers.


Oh, and I got another tattoo....can't stop...

Nerd SATs

So...having a recognizable character on your arm is something I really wasn't prepared for. I mean, most people seem to dig all the visible tattoos, but Wonder Woman has just brought something out of people. They feel they need to see it and see it in its entirety, which means me lifting up my shirt sleeve, or alternately THEM lifting it up, which I find off-putting at best. When I got the peacock on my left arm, I was introduced to this, but now it's at an unprecedented high: people will touch you if you have tattoos. People will make uncomfortable conversation with you about your tattoo. People will be caught staring and say awkward things like, "Hey Wonder Woman!" Not "Hey, Wonder Woman!" as if they are noticing her and doing so aloud, but like they are calling me Wonder Woman.

I have gotten some awesome responses from kids, who see a cartoon on my arm and pretty much respond with their little kid version of "rad" or just gasp and say "ooooh." Ladies ask me about my tattoos in general, and once a lesbian asked me a ton of detailed questions in a semi-flirtatious way, but it's grown men who make it weird. Just, why, dudes? Why make it weird? "Nice tats" by the way, sounds to me like "nice tits" which is gross (not something I've ever heard directed at my small Bs, but gross nonetheless), and I've only heard that from men. Last night, a whole table of fanboys at the bar were fascinated by Wonder Woman. Two had the guts to actually ask me about it, and they both provided me with a hilarious story for you.

Fanboy number one looked like a cross between a doofy skater and Judah Friedlander. He came up to the bar right next to me and created this fake reason for being so close to me. He squinted his eyes at the bottles as if he was looking for something and made it super obvious, so I asked what he was looking for (mistake numero uno). He was looking for a liqueur named "Hypnotiq." At a dive bar. It looks like this:

Why yes, the bottle is bedazzled.

He said that it was kind of like Alize, and that you mix it with Hennessey to make what's called an "Incredible Hulk." I had a patented Sweet Lady look of disgust/confusion/surprise and was speechless, and the guy looked down at me (because he was tall) and said, "Oh, you don't know what Alize is do you?" Like in a "isn't that cute" condescending way, to which I replied, "Oh no, I know what it is, but couldn't you just drink Nyquil for cheaper?" And he felt what people in the 19th century would have called chagrinned, or maybe vexed. This attitude problem of mine is not new. It's the reason I was single more often than I was in a relationship before I met M and convinced him to marry me, but I digress... he then said what he really meant to say before he came up, which was "I really like your tattoo." I think the Incredible Hulk drink quiz was part one of Fanboy Table's ploy to find out if I was a real nerd. Because later, when part two went into effect, it all seemed so clear.

Fanboy #2 was a nerd by-the-book. Glasses, pasty, hoodie, graphic-T, awkward, and with a speech impediment of some kind. I get back from the bathroom, and before I can get to my chair, I have this nerdy guy come right up in my personal space circle and say the following:


"I saw your Wonder Woman tattoo earlier and, um, I was wondering which artist inspired it."

This, dear readers, is nerd code. He wants to know if I am actually a fan of the comics or if I am a lesbian/feminist/tough chick who's just into the pop culture reference. I know this because when, after a beat, I replied with, "Actually, I had a couple different artists in mind," he spoke over me and said "or is it just the female empowerment thing." So I told him the truth, that I wanted the piece to reflect both a 70s version of her as well as a 1940s version, and that the composition was inspired by a Terry Dodson Wonder Woman poster, plus I wanted to reference the TV show too:

60s-70s style


Golden Age comics style - 1940s

The Terry Dodson poster

Lynda Carter as TVs Wonder Woman.

Here's what I've got so far, for those that forgot:

At this, the nerd boy had a visible reaction. The reaction was like as if he'd won a bet, won the lottery, won something, but also was forced to bottle up his celebratory instinct. When I said "Terry Dodson" he did a little jump and made a little noise. I surmised that he and his friends had a little debate over whether I knew comics or was just into the symbolic WW. And he went out on the nerd version of an epic journey for truth. Then I was like, his super friend and he wanted to talk comics and specifically artists, because everyone knows who Captain America is, but few people know the cadre of artists who brought him to life by name.

So, after all these years of being queen nerd, crown weighing down all chances of thinking myself even remotely cool, I get the late-in-life Nerd SAT exam. And you know how I approach exams. They are the nerd version of a fight. I win all my fights.

We left soon after that, and nerd boy #2 tried to catch me on the way out, with purse in hand, and asked if I liked some random obscure artist, like a final exam. He actually had to raise his voice for the last part of the question because I was walking out the door. But I just said "bye" and now he will never know. I swear there is a movie in this somewhere.

I wonder if they had seen a guy with a comic-related tattoo that was wearing chucks, a hoodie, and glasses (my swanky Saturday night attire), would they have entertained the notion that he didn't know comics and was just into getting a fun tattoo? Would they have gone on a similar mission to uncover the nerd-poseur in their midst?

Sigh...probably NOT.

Meanwhile, your nerd quotient goes down with every tattoo, even the nerd-related ones! Who knew?

Almost done...

Wow, it's been awhile since my last post. I have been taking a mental and physical vacation. It's been rancho relaxo at my place for about a week. Finally, I'm getting off my duff today to do some grading and finish reading my friend Sarah's screenplay. Then, I think I'll pack some stuff. We have been doing some minimal packing (yes I know I have 6 months). Since I'm going to be diving headfirst into dissertation writing and I have to have it done by June, I figure I should do some packing now so that I don't become beastly and savage come defense time. Or more beastly and savage. I've seen people on the brink of dissertation defenses. They look like shadows of their former selves.

Yesterday I tried to finish up my Wonder Woman tattoo. Six hours later and there's still more work to do! I think it is going to be absolutely spectacular once it's done. Maybe one more session will do it?


Rachel colored in the yellow bits, did much of the cape, which took up the most time, did some touch ups to the original, and added a few doves.

The original concept involved birds circling the piece, with eagles turning into doves (via the peaceful goddess-like power of Wonder Woman, of course). That's the last part, making those doves and eagles. We've got about three or four left to go. Plus finishing the cape and stars that flank the top. It was very painful, but I did have a little help this time, since I was such a big ol' baby last time. I got home and slept for 12 hours! Thank you trusty muscle relaxer, you were a life saver.

I have to say, it's looking better than I had imagined when I first sent her the reference images:

Colorizing, Traumatizing

So the big day arrived, and I got more color done on Wonder Woman. I have to say, I was a huge baby about the whole thing and I don't know why. It hurt like hell, so maybe that's why. But that's what has me a bit stumped. I, up until now, had a pretty high pain tolerance where tattoos are concerned. I never take breaks, I try getting as much done in one sitting as possible. I'm a "no pain, no gain" type of gal. This color work kicked my ass. It hurt from start to finish, and I actually stopped her after three measly hours. Three hours! I have sat in the chair, unmoving, for 5-6 hours before on my other arm. What bullshit is this!?

This first image is of my tattoo in mid-completion, while I'm still in the chair.

You can kind of see how angry my skin is here. Very puffy. The next one is more recent, about two weeks after the color:

It's still peeling, still scabbed in some places, and what you see is a lighter version of the color that's underneath the thin layer of baby skin that healed over the ink. Can you see the spot with the scab in the hair on the right? That spot was sooo painful.....sigh. I didn't take breaks really, or complain all that much, but I was a baby inside. Where it counts.

I wonder why? Anyone got any ideas? Do pain receptors increase with age? If so, yikes! No babies for me without mad amounts of drugs.

I'll be glad to get it finished next time (I'm willing to drug myself into oblivion to sit until it's done this time). Rachel said I've got at least three to four more hours of work left. Wow.

Anyway, M. and I dogsat for the neighbors again, which we love doing. Their boxer, Marley, is super cute and loves Radley. And the neighbors are always so cool about looking after Radley when we go away. They're just cool people in general, really. A day after they got back, they delivered these goodies:




One red velvet, one chocolate coconut, and one pumpkin spice cupcake.

Plus two "pupcakes" for Radley from Frosted Cupcakery in Long Beach.

They were all sooo good. A sweet end to a complainy blog entry.

Totally Random

Ok, I have only been to two places today (Kaiser for a Drs appt and Trader Joes) and I've gotten four comments on my tattoos. What's up with that? I rarely get comments anymore unless I'm at the bar. Only two stood out today, though.

The phlebotomist at the lab was taking my blood and noticed the mom/anchor tattoo I have on my forearm. He looked at me and said, "Aw, your mom passed away?" to which I replied, "no." He was so freaked out that he'd made that mistake, but I joked with him about it a bit. He started to feel better and continued discussing tattoos to get past his faux pas and distract me from the fact that he was taking like, all my blood. I had to leave and get something to eat I was so woozy.

Which leads me to Trader Joe's, where I spoke to no one but the checker and the guy who came up right as I was paying to change shifts. He looked at me and asked if my tattoo was done (which I get asked a lot, I think because the flowers are striped and that looks unfinished to some people), and then the requisite "who did the work?" I mentioned my awesome friend Rachel, who has done all of my tattoos and works at All American Tattoo in Fullerton. To this he said, "Crazy! You know what?"

Now, at this point, I'm thinking he's going to say, "I know someone who works there," or "Another person I know got a tattoo from her," or any number of things related to the specific shop. Right?

But no, he continued..."The guy who did my work, his wife does incredible tattoos. Like, take a look at these lines here (shows bicep with tribal fish). She can get that intricate line work really straigtht and neat. And your gal did too, I can see." It was like he had witnessed a dog play the piano or something.

I guess he's saying that women can be good tattooers? Or that they can tattoo thin, straight lines? And that this is somehow remarkable. I looked at him kind of confused and said, "Yeah, a lot more women are tattooing now, right?" and walked off pleasantly, but still kind of confused looking, I'm sure. WTF? Isn't Kat Von D's picture and line work splattered all over the place? Get it together, it's 2009, bro.

This is what I get for trying to be friendly and actually making eye contact with people. I had it coming.

Late Late Late!

I bailed on Friday Finds this week. I know. I made up for it below...

I was super busy this weekend! I had a friend from out of town come to visit, I had mega piles of midterms to grade (not done yet...like not even remotely), and my brother was in town as well, so I went to my mom's for Sunday dinner. She loved the tattoo, in the way that a mom that dislikes tattoos in general would. I told her I got the anchor because you know, she's my anchor. And she responded with "and you're my ocean, because I never know what you'll bring in." At least she had a sense of humor about it, which is nice. Meanwhile, this tattoo is below the elbow, which is apparently a big deal. But is it really, anymore? I feel like everyone has tattoos or is at least not uncomfortable with them, but it could just be a So-Cal thing.

Now, onto my belated Friday Finds:

It's getting closer, and I figure people might finally be in the mood for this stuff:

This website turns Victorian family photographs into creepy monster photos when you look at them from different angles, a-la the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland. They can do it to your own family photos if you want!

http://www.hauntedmemories.com/

Pushin' Daisies is a shop for all things death and funeral. Want some toe tags?, how about a body outline beach towel?

http://www.pushindaisies.com/

Front Gate has some amazing Halloween stuff for indoor decorating, outdoor, and entertaining. Some of it is going for very cheap now that Halloween is a few days away. Maybe a full sized coffin for next year??

Front Gate Halloween


Really who could do it better than Martha Stewart. Her classed-up Halloween party stuff blows me away every year. I like the idea of supporting ex-cons trying to re-integrate into society, so check out her official site. The store has some very nice party invitations, including these "Mad Scientist" ones.

Tattoo Fever

I'm a spur of the moment kinda gal.

Free Day!

Shhh....don't be too loud. I am giving a midterm right now. Here's a little secret: when professors give midterms, they have a "free period" in which they can do pretty much nothing. I always bring my laptop and a bunch of work to do. Today, since the whole day is full of midterms, I am savoring the morning by surfing the web, blogging, sipping my iced mocha. Have I mentioned that I heart midterm day?

The tension in the room on midterm day is palpable. Students are anxious and buzzing before the exam starts, and I always have to quiet them down to get started. By the end of the class period, those who are left are furiously writing, hoping their last few thoughts will get to paper. Oh I never liked that feeling. Ever. Test taking was so nerve wracking. And the last exam I took, the comprehensive PhD exam, probably took about 4 years off my life. I had to write three essays in 9 hours (over two days). I didn't know which prompt I would be writing on until I got there. I had no notes or books. My book list was about 90 books and articles. And on top of that I got to take an oral exam three weeks later which required me to clarify what I had written. And my memory of what I had written was pretty much a blur. I remember that I had spent so much time writing and reading before the exam (did I mention I was teaching a full load of classes at the same time?) that I had to wear readers, those farsighted glasses you can buy at the grocery store. I couldn't see up close and I couldn't see far away!

I used to think exams were exercises in power. A way for a professor to try to trip you up, make you fail, scare you into thinking you weren't smart enough to be in the class. Bad tests and bad professors probably do think of it this way. I always thought that it was unjust to have to endure such punishment for just wanting to learn. But I know a little bit more about teaching now. And I get why professors want you to be able to have a kind of recall of the concepts discussed in class. It means you've learned, you've cared, and you can say you know something about the subject when you leave the course. If you get an A in my class, you should be able to talk to people about some of what you've learned without needing notes. It means you've taken responsibility for your own education. The courses I teach are often thought of as fluff, and I'd hate for people to leave them thinking they know something about the theories and methods of popular culture or television because they could name an episode of The Simpsons.

That being said, the GRE is a load of malarkey. I refuse to believe that exam tests for anything other than whether or not you paid Kaplan the $1500 to learn how to take the test.

In other news, the last episode of True Blood was so moving. Alan Ball has a way with depicting grief and loss.

And if you watched The Big Bang Theory, how amazing was Sheldon's "fake smile"? I laughed out loud in my kitchen all alone (I had to watch it online since my DVR failed me on Monday night).

Also, I am getting tattoo fever again. So pretty. So expensive.

Genetics

Coney Tarot
Originally uploaded by wzrdreams

My mom was very interested in my tarot reading from a few weeks ago. She wanted a psychic reading for herself by the same people, so I agreed to go with her. We met up this morning and had breakfast down the street from the place. As I'm sipping my OJ, we are talking about psychic readings in general. My mom has always been fascinated by it and so not surprisingly, I have been as well. She told me some interesting stories about psychics she's visited in the past. Not too many, but a couple seemed on the level in terms of relating specific information about her during the reading (and being right about the future in some cases). She also, as an aside, mentioned that my great-grandmother (the mother of my grandma with the cookbooks) did tarot card readings to make extra money in Cuba. Hello? How did this little tidbit of history get put aside for the 31 years I've been alive? So cool! I should be used to it by now, I find out new things like this all the time. My grandmother never believed her mother had psychic ability. She figured it was a good way for a single mom in the thirties to make some money. But I wonder...

My mom has had some semi-psychic moments. Most moms have an "eyes in the back of my head" kind of foreknowledge, based primarily on studying their kids so intently that they know what they are going to do before they do it. But for my mom, there's a little more going on. She just knows things. For instance, in my younger days, I was driving home from Fullerton (when I lived at home) very late and after a few cocktails. So stupid and unsafe. I was extra cautious, going 60 mph (this was back in the day when the limit was 55 mph) so it didn't look too perfect, but also not crazy fast. As soon as I got past the 71 freeway on the way to Corona, I was getting very tired. That's when I noticed there was a cop on my tail. I don't know how long he had been there, but I do know that he followed my ass all the way until my exit and then sped off. It was nerve wracking, but it also kept me from dozing or swerving or doing anything but pay attention to my driving.

The next morning, my mom commented on how late I'd gotten home the night before. She always waited up. Always. And she worried. Always. But she said that she must have fallen asleep at some point because she'd had a dream that she was worried about me coming home so late and a cop came to her and told her "Don't worry, I'm watching out for her." Yeah. I dropped my spoon right into my cereal and looked at her with giant eyes. I still get weird fluttery belly feelings thinking about it. Stuff like that happens to her periodically. I had been contemplating putting a star on the back of my neck as my very first tattoo when I was 20, and not two minutes later did I get a call from my mom telling me she was watching the news and she saw a chola with a tattoo on her neck. "Please tell me you wouldn't do that, would you? Se ve tan feo (It looks so ugly)." So I put it on my ankle instead.

This power has yet to yield lottery winnings, but it's fascinating. Wouldn't it be cool if great-grandma was the real deal? And it is a hereditary thing? Regardless, I bought a tarot deck on the way home. When the revolution comes and all the lefty professors are sent out to pasture, I can rely on my trusty tarot deck to get me through the tough times.

Apology Freak

It has come to my attention that I apologize way too much. I'm one of those people that says "I'm sorry" for things I am not even sorry for! Did you have a bad day? Did your cat die? Did you spill your drink? Did you bump into ME? Chances are, you will hear me say "I'm sorry." I don't know why I do it. It is definitely a sign of weakness for me and I hate being perceived as weak! And what does the other person think I'm doing? Apologizing for being in the way, for taking up space in their universe? Geez. I think I mostly say it when I want to show some sympathy for the person, or to acknowledge that something shitty happened that should be apologized for by someone. This seems like a chick thing, but I bet a lot of people do it. I am going to try to stop apologizing for stuff I'm not sorry for and develop a bigger vocabulary of sympathetic remarks.

This weekend has been nice. Great weather, good company. I saw the movie Wanted. It's gotten some mixed reviews, but I liked it. I have a fascination with super powers. I love stories that involve the concept of super powered people, or extraordinarily gifted people. Mostly I like thinking about the ethics of having superpowers. Angelina Jolie's character seemed extra cool, of course. I love warrior gals. She did cool little things, like eating a hamburger while a character gets beaten, not talking a lot and when she did it was important. Typical dude stuff. Also, her tattoos were awesome. Very "steamer trunk." Like she just got stamps all over her body for different reasons at different times. I like that style, but can't see it working on me.