Saturday, January 26, 2013

Tough Tufted Tat

Beloved members of the Addiverse, I am so excited to tell you about the new tattoo plastered onto my ever-aging skin.  I am all aglow because this new tattoo ROCKS! It's so well done that it actually looks fake, as if someone drew this on my body, not permanently inked it into my skin. Lest you think I exaggerate, here is a photo of my new tufted titmouse tattoo:
(Hold the thought about this being a tufted titmouse.  I'll get to that in a second.)

I mean, come on! That tattoo looks like someone painted a bird on my chest.  It looks even better in person.  Can you believe that's a tattoo? MJagger thought I was kidding and that I had put a decal on as a joke.  This is a tattoo, truly a work of art by an artist.  

Oh, if only I had found this tattoo artist a few decades earlier.  I'd be a work of art instead of an explosion of tacky scratchings and covered-up-cover-ups.

....well, he would be under age ten if I found him 20 years ago, but that's beside the point. 

This tattoo was  done by a friend's son.  Weedeater and I had gone to high school together and, like everyone my age, reunited via Book de la Face.  She mentioned that her son was a tattoo artist and had gone to school at the Art Institute of Chicago.  I took a gander at some of the photos posted on her page and couldn't believe it....

I had found the man of my dreams.  I started saving my pennies and thinking about the next tattoo. 

Oh, the poor wife.

This time, I wanted a tattoo visible to me on a daily basis.  The majority of my tattoos are on my back.  They are there because these "people" have my back--it was conscious process but it really didn't work out because I can't really see them except for in the mirror when I remember to look.  (Unfortunately, the wife has to see them every day and she hates tattoos.  Lose-lose.)  The "50th-birthday-present-to-myself-nautical-star-tattoo" on my chest is fabulous--I see it every day, it has many meanings to me and I have all sorts of happy thoughts when taking a gander. I love it and what it represents. So, I figured I still had half a chest to go and that this would be my canvas. (At my age and at my size, it is safe to put tattoos on my chest. I do not suggest this for other women.  Just keep that in mind when planning your chesty tats.)  I thought sticking with the old school, traditional tattoo might match best with the nautical star, so I started there.  My love of birds (a bird nerd I am) lead me to looking at traditional-worn-by-sailors sparrows.  The tiny bird fit the theme and style, would fit where I needed it to fit, would have meaning.  I scoured the web and tattoo magazines in search of the perfect sparrow and came up with several ideas.    

Since some of you might not know what this kind of bird looks like, I've put an example here.


During my search for the perfect bird design, I found a photo of a tattoo featuring a realistic-looking bird, as opposed to the old school traditional bird.  This got me thinking--why not get a real bird instead of a stylized one?  I love birds.  I adore birds.  The wife and I have been known to go bird watching.  We have a bird book and binoculars in the kitchen, just in case something fun new bird visits our back yard.  A bird....a real bird....I dunno, I dunno...

I gathered up my sailor birds and included one photo of a "real bird" in the pile.  I took the ideas to the tattoo artist of choice (Billy Raike of Roselle Tattoo Company) and gave him carte blanche.  He set up an appointment, many weeks into the future (he's that good, people!) and indicated he'd draw something up for me by the time I returned.

Fast forward to this week. My tattoo time had come! I went to the appointment as scheduled.  He hadn't drawn anything yet, as he needed more information--you know, important things like where I wanted this tattoo placed on my body.  So, we got in a discussion about sailor birds.  He studied the designs I had provided, asked a bunch of questions, took a gander at my chest (the area for the tattoo, sillies--not my actual chest).  He then pointed to the realistic-looking bird I had included and indicated he could do something like that.  That did it.  Screw the sparrows, let's go with a real bird!

I had him googling all sorts of birds, explaining that I am a bird nerd and that this "real bird" design was actually a much better idea.  I gave him names of birds to google (which reinforced my nerdiness to the nth degree) and bantered back and forth about the merits of each winged friend.  Neither of us were really satisfied with what we were seeing when it hit me.....

I burst out laughing and told him to type in "tufted titmouse."  I.am.a.genius!  What could be more hilarious and more fitting than putting a tufted titmouse on your chest??!!  This is bird humor--"tit" means "small" in some Scandinavian language and "mouse" means "bird"--so, we're talking small bird...which is going to go on my small chest....

....an itty bird bird for an itty bitty titty.

I'm 99% sure he thought I was kidding.  I mean, who the hell has ever been told to google a tufted titmouse? Who the hell besides bird nerds has even heard of a tufted titmouse? I don't think he believed his eyes when he typed "tufted ti" and up popped tufted titmouse in the image search box. Wa-la! There it was, one of my favorite birds (again, I kid you not).  Both of us knew it when we saw the photo. There was no question.  There was no further thought about a nautical sparrow.  There was no discussion. This was THE bird. 

The rest was history.  He drew the bird and two hours later, I was the proud owner of an incredibly gorgeous tufted titmouse.  

This was by far the best tattoo experience I've ever had.  If you don't have any tattoos, you might be scratching your head about that, wondering what does and doesn't make for a good tattoo experience.  Well, EVERYTHING was perfect about this tufted titmouse experience--the artist, the design, the shop, the cost, the music, the result.  Everything.  It was so perfect that I can't stopping about my titmouse and won't be shutting up for many months to come.

I have gotten overwhelming rave reviews from everyone except for MJagger--not because of the actual tattoo (she agrees that it is amazing), but because of the subject matter.  She can't believe I didn't get a hawk or an eagle or a raven or something like predatory like that.  She's still laughing and shaking her head. "A tufted titmouse? Are you kidding me? THAT'S your tattoo?!!"  

I hope a tufted titmouse poops on her.  I'm not going to point out birds anymore when we walk.  I'm going to savor them myself.  She would never have noticed those adorable nuthatches without my keen birding prowess.

My tattoo is so perfect that it makes me want to get a whole sleeve of birds....perhaps a rose-breasted gross beak befriending a chickadee and nuthatch?  A cedar waxwing keeping a watchful eye on an American Oriole (why they no longer call them Baltimore Orioles, I do not know)? A soaring Cooper's Hawk across the shoulder with an Eastern Towhee perched above my "what the hell is that blob" wrist tattoo?  We'd no longer have to carry a bird book--we could just look at my arm and know what bird we were watching.

For now, I will adore my tufted titmouse in the here and now and carry a bird book.   One can always dream of birds to come.....




Saturday, January 19, 2013

Judgement Giraddi

The word "giraddi," in case you are wondering, is pronounced as if you were saying the word "giraffe." JURE-addi. I suppose some of you might say JEER-addi.  Either way will work. I won't judge you.

Okay, so I will probably judge you but I'll be gentle about it.

Eldest niece taught the wife and me about the "judgement giraffe."  It's a hand gesture that looks like this:

The gesture is appropriately utilized when someone is being judgemental.  It is a gesture that the wife can wave in my face when I am being a condescending, judgemental you-know-what.  Friends can slowly raise the judgement giraffe during dinner outings, signaling the speaker to think before speaking further. The gesture comes in plenty handy during work meetings & counseling sessions. (As noted, I am brutal as a counselor.  I have no time for empathy.  Hop on the judgement giraffe and move on.) I personally find the giraffe to be a handy way to remind myself that I am being judgmental.  Example: (1) I am being a judgmental, arrogant asshole.  Hard to believe, I know.  (2) I suddenly have a shred of insight into my behavior/thinking/babbling. (3) I slowly raise my hand and bring out the judgement giraffe.  If it's just a little infraction, a half-giraffe salute suffices.  If it's a full-blow judgement, a full giraffe is required. If I'm being really judgemental, I use both hands--two judgement giraffes.  If I'm being a total (insert your favorite most vile word here), I stick the judgement giraffes in my eyes, as if the giraffes are poking my eyes out.  If I'm completely and totally out of control, there is only one thing to do: stick the judgement giraffes in my butt. BAM! Judgement giraffe saves the day.

If you think I'm kidding about sticking two judgement giraffes in my butt, you obviously do not personally know me.

I hate to admit it....the judgement giraffe visits the addiverse so often that I've decided to rename myself "giraddi."  Well, not permanently but as needed.  I think the name should accompany the gesture when it is in relation to me.  The wife, my boss, friends, relatives, subordinates could gently mutter "giraddi" under their breath and give a half-giraffe salute.  That'd probably get my attention and shut my pie hole long enough to reconsider the words flowing out of it.  If I'm out of control, people could scream"GIRADDI!" while waving two judgement giraffes over their heads....but, that might be a bit much and might lead to people judging them.

Everyone should try using the judgement giraffe, whether it be toward themselves or towards others.  Actually, it might be therapeutic to surreptitiously make a giraffe at someone who is being obviously judgemental and you don't know them well enough to give them the full-giraffe salute.

Since it is probably judgemental to judge is someone is being judgemental, you have to give yourself a half-giraffe when giving a stranger a full-giraffe.

Personally, I think we should save the judgement giraffe for use on ourselves, but who am I to judge?

So, if you see me talking in a meeting or eating dinner with friends or grumbling about yet another Book de la Face post about controlling guns and you see me flash a judgement giraffe, know that I realize I am being a giraddi and will soon shut up or turn off the computer or apologize or at least consider what I am saying.  

Feel free to flash a giraddi at me.  I will appreciate it and might even put a giraffe in my butt in gratitude for your intervention.  In return and as I sign of my gratitude, I promise I will NOT try and stick a judgement giraffe into YOUR butt.
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Saturday, January 12, 2013

Royal Flushing, Indeed

Note to self: the title of the blog entry actually matters.  One of my blog titles led to over 4000 hits, all of which were accidents. (Google-ing is an amazing thing.) I never thought about that particular blog title being that of a movie--I just thought it was clever.  I suppose I should be happy to have 4000 hits but it kinda freaked me out, considering I only have like five actual readers and the blog had nothing to do with the movie of which they were seeking.  I wimped out and changed the title.  

Poor Freckles is doing the "traveling puke tour" this morning....that's when the dog walks while puking.  Why do they do that? I've never purposefully puked while walking or vice versa.  Worse, the first puke is always in a corner.  Usually, it's Lucy doing the traveling puke tour but today it was Freck's turn. Since Freckles is a "silent puker," I never hear the first episode until the pile is in the corner.  (That's the other thing--why do our two dogs go to corners to puke? Can't they just puke in the middle of the floor like drunken friends?) Once the first puke is complete, it's off to walk and puke.  Just about the time I get to the original pile, another pile surfaces.  I yelled to the wife for help but she didn't hear me.  Or, maybe she did and pretended not to.  Hard to say.  Can  you blame her?

The new toilet is delightful.  Since I promised you a review, here are my observations:

The higher stool is interesting.  I can see how it would be handy for those who have trouble getting up from the seated position, those recovering from some sort of surgery, tall people.  I'm still chewing on this.  I can put my feet on the ground but it's more like my toes are on the ground, not my flat foot.  I'm 5'5" and have not-too-short legs, so I'm an average kind of reviewer.  I have no idea how the wife uses the toilet--my guess is she looks like Edith Ann in that big rocking chair--there is no way her feet can touch the ground if she is properly seated on the toilet.  I would try to get a photo but that would be the last blog and last photo I'd ever publish.

The no-slam lid is amazing.  Okay, so it's amazing because I didn't even know such a thing existed. Both the toilet seat and the toilet lid are no-slam.  Whoever thought of this is a genius.  I shut the lid after using the toilet just because I like watching it.  I'm guessing this would be super-cool in a house with men who forget to put the seat down.  The female would enjoy watching the toilet seat slowly lower to its place of rest.  It would also be handy for those who use the bathroom in the night and don't want to wake their sleeping significant other.  There's nothing like the slam of a toilet lid to rouse you from a warm, fuzzy dream.  (Um, last night I dreamed the wife washed all our pet mice--a blue-bucket full of white mice--in the washer and they all died--I asked her why on earth she had done that and she answered that they were dirty and needed a bath; hence, she thought washing them in the washing machine would be faster.  One lived through the wash cycle but quickly died when placed in the blue bucket of dead mice. What the hell does that dream mean?)

The flush capacity is wonderful.  No problems with large yule tide logs.  I am pretty amazed by this as there is very little water in the actual bowl and the tank is smaller than the bucket used for the dead mice.  I haven't come near to having a clog and I'm a pretty powerful woman.  I may have to invite some super poopers over so we can give this throne a ride for its money.

The skidmark situation is less that anticipated.....reviews on line said this model had good results with not leaving skid marks.  I am here to tell you I have seen skid marks, which makes me sad.  I had hoped for a skid-mark-free existence.

It's not half as loud as reviews led us to believe it would be.  Reviews made us think it was going to sound like a 747 taking off.  It sounds like a normal toilet to me. The only difference we've noticed in regards to the sound is how quickly the tank fills.  Our last 18 year old toilet took like an hour and a half to fill--this one is done in like ten seconds.  I anticipate savings on our water bill.

The shape doesn't matter.  I think it's an oval, not round, but I'd have to go look.  I know one of our other toilets is round and one is oval.  My butt can't tell the difference between any of them.

We can see the wall.  Our other toilet's tank was huge.  It was almost impossible to paint behind it when we painted the bathroom. This one's tank is little and leaves much room for painting, which is good because we are getting the bathroom painted. (The color is still up for debate, so if you'd like to vote, say something.  The wife is going with more boring neutrals.  What's wrong with a bright red bathroom?)

"It looks stylish.  Contemporary." That's what the wife says.  I have no idea what that means and she's a mouse killer but we'll go with it.  We are looking good.

Finally, we both like it enough that we wish we had this model in our other two bathrooms.  That won't be happening.  I have other things I need to do with my money.  One must have priorities. I purchased a new point and click camera which cost the same as a new toilet and I'm all good with that.  I'm tired of every single photo I take being blurry so I went with a new camera instead of a new toilet for the second bathroom.  This new camera has an amazing shutter speed.  Not one photo has been blurry at all.....

....and, I'm gonna need that shutter speed when I take the wife's photo while she is seated on the toilet.  That's going to be a point, click and run photo.......

Saturday, January 05, 2013

Royal Flush

Today is a very special day in the Addiverse: we are getting a new toilet!  As a purveyor of poop and a lover of all things that flush, I can't tell you how exciting this is.

We've been re-doing the re-do of the bathroom, thanks to the installers of the moronic type installed our tile flooring several years ago.  Don't even get me started about this.  I suppose I should celebrate their incompetence, seeing as I'm getting a new toilet now that we are re-doing the re-do.

(Side note: "Getting a new toilet" sounds like they are giving us one.  This is not what I mean.  We purchased the new beauty.  I refuse to give one ounce of credit to those morons.  Bitter, party of one!)

Our current toilets are original to the house.  Since we've been here 18 years, those are 18 year old toilets.  I never thought about how toilets might change in 18 years...well, not until the wife started doing research.  Oh my, we have been ruining the planet with all that water we've been flushing away.  Today's toilets have all sorts of features--less water, more power, higher seat, different shapes, two flush types per one toilet, gravity flush vs. power flush--it's been quite the educational experience. You can spend a lot of money on a toilet, which I suppose is an okay thing, considering we all have to use a toilet at least once a day. (I assume all of us in the United States use a toilet more than once a day, but we'll go with that.)

The wife did all sorts of research about toilets.  The only time my interest really perked up was when she started reading reviews that talked about "skid marks."  Flushing power and skid marks.  Who knew? This made me triply excited about the new toilet.  I can't wait to give that baby a try.  Of course, I have to wait for it to be installed today AND I have to wait until my next poop, which could be anywhere from the next five minutes to the next five days.  I will be taking photos of the toilet and it's flushing potential, so fear not--you will not miss one minute of my potty humor.  I got a new camera yesterday (I dropped my previous one so many times that the batteries kept falling out, it only took blurry photos and the casing was cracked), so I know photos won't be a problem.  (I chose the new camera by shutter speed.  That has to be something like flushing power.)

I'm a little worried about the wife in relation to the new throne as she is short and the toilet is tall.  I imagine her feet will be dangling when in use. This is not conducive to good pooping.  She's gonna need a step stool.  (Ha! I crack myself up--a step stool!  Just a little potty humor there.)

Since new toilets are rather pricey, I plan on talking about our new toilet a lot.  It's in the bathroom most people don't see (the "master bedroom bathroom"), so I may have to take people in there on a tour to make sure everyone gets to enjoy our new purchase.  Besides, it is important in our home that you use THIS new toilet, not the other bathroom's old toilet, as that is our "non-pooping bathroom." If you want to poop at our house and plan on doing more than just dropping a few little kids at the pool, you'll need to use the new toilet.

The new floor, which led to the new toilet, which led to the new light fixture, which led to the new hardware, truly is a "while we're at it" kind of project.  While we are at it, the wife is getting the bathroom painted (along with the master bedroom, by some guy who actually knows how to pain, unlike me) and, while we're at it, new towels in the new color scheme are ready to go. Last night, I had a sudden flash of wonder about the mirror, because that would be the perfect culmination of the while we're at it process, but quickly bashed my head into a wall so I would stop making this "while we're at it" project getting any bigger.

So, here's to good flushing power, a comfortable, high seat with the soft-close cushioned lid, less water waste and the end of the skid mark.  

Photos.  We need photos.  Let the pooping begin!
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