Forbidden Fruit

Recently the two coke machines in the back of the store have been removed due to our Coke vendors neglecting the machines [Either the machines didn't work or they were out of everything. Always.] And I rarely, if ever, drink pop [soda, sodapop, depending on where you live] for a variety of reasons [the sugar, the calories, the way it strips the enamel off your teeth, the link to obesity and problems with bone density, etc.] and I found that I really didn't miss it. Oh, I'd have a Dr.Pepper now and then but only on rare occasion. I'm more interested in coffee for my caffeine fix. I love coffee like a fat kid loves cake.

But then, the coke machine was gone. Suddenly I had Coca Cola on the brain. I've been craving it ever since, I even had a dream about it last night. So today at lunch I bought one of the 20oz. bottles for $1.61 and drank [almost] the entire 240 calories of it. Which is saying something because normally I'm a terrible pop-drinker. I'm the type that will open a can, drink half, and throw the rest away.

I think it's that whole forbidden fruit thing.

Yes.

Another post about tattoos. What can I say, I have ink on the brain.

So I've been thinking about what kind of tattoo I want. What I want it to represent and what it will mean to me. I think I have a pretty good idea.

First off, I wanted something that had some meaning. I said I was going to stay away from more floral. I lied. I am a lying liar.


The lotus is a symbol [and has been for thousands of years] of rebirth and the cycle of life, probably because of the way they drop below the water at night and resurface with the sun. This seems appropriate as this tattoo is kind of a post-graduation thing for myself and graduation was [as far as I'm concerned] the first day of the rest of my life.

But what kind of lotus? There are so many different styles of tattoos. I like the tribal tatts, the bold, flowing lines, but everyone has one and I want to be different [just like everyone else]. So I've been thinking about henna tattoos. I love the style of henna. Again, with the flowing bold lines but with henna the lines are softer and less severe. Which I like. So here are some pictures that are kind of along the lines of what I'm thinking.

I'm thinking the best way to go about this is to print off some of these and take them into the guy that I'm going to have do it so that he can use these to design something for me. [Incidentally this tattoo artist did the one on my ankle for me and the one on my moms ankle when I was a kid.]

Thoughts? Comments? Don't be shy!

I Want

...another tattoo.

Every now and then I surf the net looking for inspiration. I know I want my next one to be a small one and I want it on the front of my left shoulder like this:
...but I can't decide what I want. I keep coming back to things like dragonflies, stars, etc. You know, the same thing everyone else has these days. I already have a rose on my ankle so I'm thinking floral is out. My first one kind of just came to me and I've wanted another one since I had that one done six years ago. I promised myself I'd wait until I graduated college for tatt #2. Which I did. As a sort of victory thing, so that it would have some sort of meaning aside from just being pretty.

I just can't make up my mind.

Ugh.

Ready or Not

Here I am, ready to usher in the new Year of Amanda, year 24. I always find my birthday to be a bit of a relief [when it’s over]. I hate being on the cusp of a birthday, it makes me feel a little discombobulated. Don’t ask me why. I feel better when I have a solid number to compare myself with. 24 rather than 23 and 7/10. Maybe it’s because I found myself actually looking forward to turning 24.

24 will be the first school free year since preschool (if you want to get technical about it, which I do). Makes me feel a little like a real grown up. Even if that is the only real change, my being graduated, it is a big one. I’m currently struggling to recalibrate myself so to speak. College, ultimately, was a huge part of my life for years and years. It was the reason I gave a crap about graduating from high school. It influenced almost every decision I made from where to live to what groceries to buy. It made me a different person than I was before. It was (I thought) the driving force in my life.

Then I graduated.

Suddenly, I find, I am not working towards anything in my life.

Apparently I’m goal oriented.

Who knew?

It isn’t that I don’t have other goals, but some goals are more tangible than others, we can only control our lives so much. For instance, here’s a general list:

• Graduate College
• Meet Prince Charming
• Buy Charming house in suburbs
• Buy Pooch Charming
• Have multiple Charming Children with Prince Charming
• Oh and have Charming Job (interesting that that’s on the bottom of the list, isn’t it?)
• Live happily ever after, retired and living a charmed life vacationing in Italy/Spain/Ireland/etc.

Now then, does anyone have Prince Charming’s phone number?

Crazy Little Thing Called Love

Today I had an interesting conversation with my all-time favorite customer at work, Nan Something-or-rather. (I know I shouldn't play favorites but it's true.) She's the sort of person you always walk away from feeling good after a conversation, no matter how brief. Unbeknown to her, she is the one that got me to start knitting [which I now love] and she's handed me all kinds of little nuggets of wisdom over the six years I've had my job.

Today Nan was smiling and bursting with happy, bouncing around like a kid while she told me in a singsong voice that she was in love. A little background about Nan, she's sixty-something and very independent. In her own way, she reminds me that its okay to be a happily single, independent woman. Which may sound funny, but sometimes I forget.

She went on and on about how wonderful this man was and how much they had in common [they are in the same *Gold-Wing club] and I couldn't help but grin along with her. Because, as she said, there's hope for everyone. Our society has this idea that once you hit a certain age you'd better be paired up or else. Apparently that's crap. Good to know.


*A Gold-Wing is a kind of Harley. Yes, Nan rides a Harley. Which she loves more than she has ever loved or probably will ever love any man. [I can't help but admire her for this, because I'm too chicken to ride unless as a passenger.]

Holy Leapin' Arachnids, Batman!

So here I am packing odds and ends for a weekend away and making sure I have clean laundry to come back to. On the way to the washing machine I find that there is one small large [fuzzy, eight-legged] obstacle that looked something like this:



Now, it's no secret that I'm an absolute girl about insects with a special place in my heart own personal hell for arachnids.

It's my parents fault. Really.

I mean what sane parent allows their small child to watch the movie "Arachnophobia." I have a hard time killing the little buggers too. I know it's ridiculous to think that they will rally the troops and attack or something, but every time I see one I think about this:



[If you were wondering, I check my shower every time.]


So, as we have established, I am much to much of a girl to kill said nasty. So what was my solution? I contemplated skipping the laundry all together but there were things I wanted to take with me. So I tip-toed around the spider hoping I would not provoke it. [Some spiders will actually run at you {e.g. Hobo Spiders and yes, we have them}]

So far, so good, but I still haven't gotten my stuff out of the the dryer.