quest for questions...

Questions. I could have some for you. Some specially designed just for you, you, you, you and you.

Would you like me to ask you 5 fabulous questions? Read on and find out how... oh and if you've been following this blog for a while... no you aren't suffering from dejavu... we've done this once before months and months ago with a different questioner... but I liked it so much I am doing it again.

This time it starts over at The Holmes where he participated in the Interview Meme. As far as memes go it is a favorite of mine because it is interactive between you (or rather me) and another blogger (him, or rather me, or I guess you if you want). I loves me some interaction as long as no one is looking directly at me or touching me in anyway shape or form, or licking their fingers and then putting them in the snack bowl.



Got that? Of course not, I am a crazy person this week.

Never the less here we go, I asked Mr. Holmes to ask me 5 questions and he responded in amazing time with the following 5 gems... enjoy:

1. Your band has one album left on your contract to your record label. You're in a hurry to get it done so you can focus on your burgeoning acting career, so you decide to do an album of covers. What songs do you bring to the band meeting and why?

First one right out of my mouth is Whatever Lola Wants (It is my go to song for shower singing. If you have never heard it run out right now and listen to it). Then we move on down to Fever (yes it has been recorded 6,578, 987 times including once by me but it is a damn classic for a reason people it is sultry sex in song form no?) Next I would like to tackle The Piano Has Been Drinking it is perfection in song form, of course my fictional band and I would totally cock it up but still, how awesome would it be to sing ANYTHING by Tom Waits. Is that enough? Is my band chomping at the bit for more?

2. It appears that you have some tattoos. Tell us the story behind one or two of your favorites.

It does appear to most people that I have tattoos and I often find myself wondering how they ever even notice. It isn't like they are large and black covering a good portion of my torso or anything... wait a minute, oh... I've just been told that they are in fact large and black and covering a good portion of my torso. Well then, lets tackle your actual question, the story behind one or two of my favorites... I think I'll go with my back tattoo because it actually has quite a bit of significance as a bridge in my life, although I didn't know it at the time it was started.

Though I have posted a photo of it here before I'll toss one up right now for those of you who don't know me, haven't seen me naked, or were unaware that I had these things known as tattoos.


If you look at it you will notice that there are clearly 2 tones of black in it. The part along the sides is much... well blacker for lack of a better word. It is much newer than the bit along the center and covering my shoulders blades. Someday I may have that remedied by having the amazing artist that did the work go over the older section but I have a whole new piece I want done before I go there. It is actually designed and perfect and ready for me, unfortunately I got the flu the day I had the appointment to get it and had to cancel and have not yet had the chance to reschedule. And that was 5 months ago. I need to be less busy... but to the story.

When I was 22 years old I had been getting tattooed for only 3 years but had already managed to accumulate a significant (to me) number of tattoos I decided it was time to move onto something bigger and more significant (size wise). It seemed the only place I could cause enough pain and get enough ink to fill that void was on my back. So I asked Jesse (the tattoo artist) to come up with something that would fit. That would work. Well above you see what he came up with. In October or November of the 1999 I had the outline of the center and shoulder blades portion put onto my back. Then the holidays happened. lots of drinking and smoking and coffee shop hanging out at. Parties and boys and craziness. New Years 2000. More drinking and hanging out... Then in March just before my 23rd birthday, 1 week to the day before my birthday actually I met Mr. Kaos. It wasn't hard to figure out that he was the manboy for me and I stuck around and fell hard. I became a little preoccupied with happiness and found my need to lay still for hours at a time while someone drove pigment into my flesh was not as strong.... I wanted my tattoo finished but I also wanted to go to parties with Mr. Kaos. Go to the beach with Mr. Kaos. Have lovely dinners with Mr. Kaos. And within a couple of months of our meeting stay home in the evenings and watch PBS and drink wine and snuggle with Mr. Kaos.

By November of 2000 though, I realized I needed to get my back tattoo filled in so I did. I also quit smoking that month. I thought it would be only a few months, a year at the most before I would go in and have the side pieces tattooed but I got lost in that haze of Mr. Kaos love and time zipped by. When I was finally ready to get the tattoo finished the artist had disappeared off the Portland map. I heard mixed rumors of where he had gone and why but the one constant was that I couldn't find him in Portland. So I thought, eh, I will find him later and on with life I went... On with life so much that I got pregnant with what is now the living breathing little 5 year old K.

Then "family" and having one was so so important and any thought of finishing my tattoo took a back seat because I decided that I wanted another child and I would hate HATE to have a beautiful tattoo marred by the inevitable stretch marks that a 2nd pregnancy would bring (are you all actually still reading because this is a long long long story).

When K was 2 and I was ready to have another kid we also found a new house and moved. Around that time I lost the battle I was fighting to control my dangerously high blood pressure through diet and exercise and was put on blood pressure medication. Shortly after an abnormality was found during a routine exam. I could not get pregnant until that was dealt with. I could not get pregnant on my blood pressure medication and I was also informed that the strain put on my body from my pregnancy with K had done some lasting damage.

A year later I underwent minor surgery to deal with the "abnormality". By minor surgery I mean I went into the hospital was stuck in one of those flippy flappy ass gowns put on a gurney wheeled into the room where they knock your ass fully unconscious, wheeled into surgery and then woke up some unspecified time later from what seemed like death with the sorest throat I had ever had (from a tube shoved down it to help me breath) and crying for my husband and a big glass of water. They gave me ice and told me I could see my husband soon. That sucked.

More time went by, I wanted a child but after several appointments with varied doctors it became apparent that a 2nd pregnancy would more likely end in tears and heartache than with a bouncing beautiful new baby. It was hard to swallow.

After time and some insanity I accepted that I was not meant to bare another child and as a sort of medicine for all that ailed me I decided to be the best damn mother I possibly could to the brilliant, beautiful, funny little one that I had.

And to be the best wife I could ever be to the most amazing man I had ever known.

I picked myself up and started writing again for the first time since I was 22. And I was happy.

And then I heard the tattoo artist was back in town and opening a shop and I decided the time was right to finish what I started. So I laid on a table for hours at a time having pigment forced into the skin over my ribs and back and it was all I could do not to cry, not because it was much more painful than I had remembered but because I knew I had finally dealt with the fact that I wasn't going to be having another child.

Now that I've said all that lets move on...



3. What did a cat ever do for anybody? I mean really?

My cats have done alot really, We got the first cat because our 75 year old house had a mouse problem and no matter how many traps we laid down we couldn't seem to get them all... we thought a cat might be the perfect remedy and he was. He drove those little fuckers out. He even ate one whole once. It was gruesome. I saw him do it. Our second cat is just really nice to me. Though he whines alot. He catches bugs and eats them though...

4. Who is your favorite local celebrity there in Portland?

My favorite local celebrity... Hm. My favorite Portland celebrity? Um... Uh. Well there is.... I will avoid any smart ass routes... I could go there. I could pull some minor Portland Celebs out of my hat but instead I will go with someone I loved even as a child: Beverly Cleary

Oh what the hell, my favorite minor Portland celebrity is the entire band Tokyo. Tokyo was an 80's hair band featuring a good friend of ours as the lead singer, another friend on guitar, a revolving bass player and my lovely dazzling Mr. Kaos on drums... Wanna see a video?? You do don't you... Yeah, you know you want to see them in all their hairband glory... (on a personal note John if you read this I'm. SO. Sorry.)

5. What song or songs give you chills every time you hear them?

Picture in a Frame by Tom Waits.
Time After Time (especially performed by Tuck and Patti)
Dance While the Sky Crashes Down by Jason Webley
Bless His Ever Loving Heart by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
Grinning in your Face by Son House
He Still Sees Her Younger by Craig Carothers
A song Mr. Kaos wrote for me that we played at our wedding

I could go on for a very long time here so I will stop at that. For someone as musically untalented as I am music has had a most profound effect on my life. I hope it has as much sway in my daughter's life.


Interview rules:
1. Leave me a comment saying “Interview Me.”
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with a post containing your the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

once upon a time when I was bad ass...

It took almost 5 years after K was born for me to learn to prioritize certain things. Getting a tattoo finished was one of those.

I remember the day after she was born, one of the nurses who'd been in the room while I labored and witnessed the glory that was naked screaming me, asked me how I stood the pain of all those tattoos.

I almost fell over laughing at her question, and no it wasn't because they gave me the good drugs for pain because I refused those in favor of the ever difficult attempts to breastfeed my baby. I laughed, I laughed some more, I chuckled, I guffawed, I giggled and finally I asked her if she had ever given birth. No, apparently she had not. I told her she should never ask a woman who had endured 3 days of labor and a non functional epidural about the pain of getting a tattoo. It was just not comparable. She should instead ask how I managed not to faint from the agony of squeezing a 5 pound kid out of what was formerly just a very pleasurable space for me.

She smiled, looked at me apologetically, told me she thought my tattoos were beautiful and went on her way.

Flash forward almost 5 years to me laying on my side with a leather pillow wrapped in plastic under my rib cage trying to withstand the pain of getting my back piece finished. I thought about the question she asked me that day and realized that pain can fade from your mind so easily. That was a few months ago. After a 3 hour tattoo session I had to go home with half my back still unfinished. He finished the other side a few weeks later.

I'm thinking of this now for a multitude of reasons. Partly because my good friend is finally getting a tattoo she has wanted for years. She hasn't been tattooed in all the time I've known her so I wonder how clearly she remembers the pain. I also wonder what a difference it makes getting tattooed so close to your ribs. Also because a month ago I had to cancel an appointment to get a tattoo I had planned to get for my 30th birthday. I got a bad case of the stomach flu hours before my appointment and spent the next 24 hours sick, sick, well you know SICK. Maybe the biggest part of it though is that I am thinking what I went through to bring K into this world wasn't so bad after all.

When I was back on that tattoo table the pain was overwhelming and I know I could never endure it for as long as I did childbirth. But is it all because of the reasons? I get tattooed for many reasons, things that are important to me, to who I am, to what I like. But I had K to make the world a better place, to see a little piece of Mr. Kaos and I live on forever, to complete our family. When K was coming into this world I knew that this one little person would become bigger than life in my eyes and in my heart.

So, once upon a time when I was a bad ass and some one asked me if it hurt to get tattooed I would roll my eyes at them and walk off or just snap "what do you think".

Now I think it's all a matter of degree and being mommified has made me kind of a bad ass sissy...

mane event...

my top 10 exciting things to do this week?

10. listening to the same 3 albums over and over again...
**bonus points if you can tell me which ones they are**
9. K's monthly school performance & lunch after...
8. writing my daily blogs...
7. friday night wine tasting
6. seeing the treasures of ancient Egypt exhibit again...
5. make wine labels...
4. wii play arrives...
3. 30th birthday tattoo...
2. dinner out with Mike...
1. my new hair style...

A bad hair cut will make you want to curl up in your room for days crying it out... I luckily haven't ever had a hair cut that bad... but I've been disappointed by new hair styles before... like now. like the one I am currently wearing. the one I am getting rid of in 3 days.

4 months ago I went to my trusted and wonderful hair stylist. She knows me. She knows my hair. She was with me when I went through my crazy blond phase, when I decided I wanted to know what my natural hair color was, when I decided to have super long tresses (you couldn't quite climb a tower wall with my hair... but it was well past the middle of my back when I had her lop it off)...

I have had short blond hair, medium blond hair, LONG blond hair, short burgundy hair, medium burgundy hair, long "natural" hair, short "natural" hair, short black hair... and back before she knew me a half shaved head with half of the remaining hair black the other half burgundy... I think once there was some purple in there. I know I had a few years of blue black hair as well... the constant. I have a lot of freaking hair. I am always amazed by the amount of hair I have. Each hair isn't thick, actually they are quite fine but there are so many of them that when my hair reaches a certain length... say 2 inches above my shoulders I achieve something I like to call... mushroom head.

So I went to her with a problem.

I don't like mushroom head. I had to use a flat iron EVERY DAY to combat mushroom head or wear a constant stream of pony tails. I HATE that. I really do...

There was a solution to mushroom head and I was willing to try it. She went through the longer part of my hair and thinned it out. Yep, just like that thinned it out... When I went home from the salon that day I loved it... it looked chic, fantastic, I was elated.... mushroom head was gone...

But when I washed it i discovered a new enemy. Scraggly head. I looked like some one had gone through my hair with scissors and thinned it out... oh.. yeah, that's what she did... okay yes it is but it didn't look good anymore. It looked like I was loosing my hair...

But I thought, hey, maybe it will grow on me.. can't hurt right? It's been 4 months and it does hurt. It pains me... so now instead of tying my hair back in a pony tail or using the flat iron to keep mushroom head at bay I have to pull it back into a scraggly pony tail or flat iron to keep the scraggly head at bay.

The only reason I cut it that way in the first place was to try to keep myself from cutting it short... but honestly that's the only way I like my hair. Short and black. once a year or so I decide I should do something else with it... then I look at pictures of myself from years past and the only ones I ever like are the ones with short black hair...

I warned Mike (he hates sudden change) I warned K (otherwise when I pick her up from school there could be some tears because she hates sudden change)

so in case you hate sudden change guess what I am doing on friday?

truth in advertising...

it's been brought to my attention that my blog should be called something like

That Tattooed Mama
or
Tattooed Mom Lady

or that in my profile it should say

I have lots of tattoos

or something...

maybe I don't write about being a "Tattooed Mom" specifically because I have gotten over the tattooed mom persecution syndrome (believe me it was difficult being the tattooed mommy in Banks before we moved back to Portland)...

or maybe because it has been winter for months now and I go everywhere in a coat which really minimizes any staring I might encounter...

or maybe as much as I love my tattoos, the important part of the mom equation is the mom part. Not the what do they think of me part. I think there will come a point in my parenting saga that my tattoos become a touchstone or a point of contention. Maybe when K joins the young republicans club and dons a lovely single strand of pearls with her darling sweater set (okay this is truth in advertising... I really think pearls are just lovely).

is it important that my diatribes, monologues, chatterbox moments are coming from someone with ink in her skin? The people (and there are several of you) who tell me that it should be tattooed this or tattooed that, are coming from a good place. They love me, they love my tattoos, hell they may even love my writing... and whether they are concerned that I'm not being my whole self for all of you out in cyber-land or they think I could use a little more of a hook to pull you all in I don't know...

just in case we haven't covered this: I have tattoos. later I'll consider amending my subtitle.

And for those of you who think this should be the blog of that tattooed mom lady... it is the blog of that tattooed mom lady... her name is camikaos...

I just like to think I am more the sum of my parts...

why do I do this again?

ouch

pain

stupid me

why do i get tattooed again ( I think that was the question posed to me by Jesse while he was filling in my back)

I had a piece on each side of my back to finish. 3 1/2 hours after the needle touched my skin and the first side was finished we decided I would be getting the other side done another day.

ouch

(but it's gonna pretttttty when I'm all healed up :)

culture shock

my hubby and I are having a problem with what I think is misperception and a little bit of culture shock. The culture I speak of is the "tattoo culture" say it with me now "ooooohhhhh ahhhhhhhhh". I don't think i am part of the "tattoo culture" I think in this day and age any one can have as many tattoos as they want: doctors, lawyers, bankers, high tech workers, musicians, stay at home moms, realtors, secretaries, artists, construction workers, teachers, zoo keepers, dry cleaners and so on and so forth... Maybe part of that is the city I live in... Portland does seem to be particularly tattooed... but I think a lot of it is American Culture catching up to the free spirits of its population.

With that said when Mike and I met I already had tattoos. He would say a lot of tattoos, I would say eh, not so much, because at that time I already wanted more... He has always loved and been interested in tattoos but has none and until recently wasn't even sure what he would have tattooed.

I've taken a 6 year vacation from being tattooed due to many things: getting married, the birth of my daughter, moving to a new house, remodeling and health issues... Now that things are finally stable I long to finish my back tattoo. It's beautiful as it is but to me it just looks unfinished because I know there is more to the plan. I always promised myself I wouldn't get another tattoo until it was finished and now with my 30th birthday looming in the not so distant future I have plans for a wonderful tattoo tribute to my 30 yeas of life. You can bet I'm not getting it if my back isn't done first.

This leads us to the impasse. I have a consult in a few days so the artist can take a look at my back, see what he has left to do, take sketches or measurements and whatever else he'll need to finish up... Mike having felt like my tattoo life is separate from him and being saddened by it wanted to be included... now he's not so sure. Why? Part of it could be boredom, but any adult can sit through a 30 minute appointment boring or no. He's lead on that there may be a little more to it. He doesn't feel like part of the "tattoo culture" and thinks he will be uncomfortable or an outsider in the shop. My argument "You never know until you try".

Where does culture shock end and judgement begin?