Rebellion and Thrills

I’m still adjusting to LWS (life without school). I love having time to myself now. I love not having anything to do. Life at home shouldn’t be about deadlines. Truly being able to relax for the first time in six years is incredibly wonderful.

I’ve been spending my days of LWS just decompressing. I was lucky I was still functioning by the time school ended. I was so burned out and so tired all the time. I wasn’t sleeping well, and I wasn’t eating properly. I’ve messed up my digestive system so badly that I’m now on a gluten free, lactose free diet to try to get things to settle down again. I’ll eventually add food groups back in, but for now it’s nice to have things on an even keel.

I ended the week by visiting a tattoo shop. I had two tattoos already, and the same tattoo artist did them both. Unfortunately, she’s on a medical leave of absence. I took a leap of faith and when I said I wanted a tattoo, they asked if I wanted it done right then, I said, “sure”. I ended up with a very nice guy named Danny. Going on impulse again, I asked to have the lyrics from a favorite song tattooed on my arm.

IMG_0183Yes, I like my music loud and with a harder edge. A song called, “Life is Beautiful” by Sixx:A.M. spoke to me. It has a line that mentions, “there’s nothing like a funeral to make you feel alive”. While I understand that this actually refers to a heroin overdose, it reminded me that it took my father’s dying when I was 28 to finally make me look around and realize I was wasting my life sitting at home every night, and if I didn’t change something, I was going to end up very much alone. His passing is what pushed me to get up and get out of the house and find someone to love. I met my husband when I was 29.

So my newest ink is in reference to the fact that life truly is beautiful. It’s also meant to be lived.

My mother would never have approved of me getting tattooed. She objected to pierced ears. I had to wait until I was 21 to get my ears pierced. Two ladies I worked with took me on a lunch break to an ear-piercing jewelry counter at a department store located downtown near where we worked. Years later, at a different employer, a coworker got a tattoo, and I always wanted one. I was married and out on my own at the time, but I still hesitated because I knew my mother would have been disappointed in me.

She passed away when I was 46. It took me quite a while to get over losing her. In fact, it was during a bit of a midlife crisis when my Hubby pushed me to think outside the box and do something different to change things up. I got my first tattoo – the heron on my ankle when I was 50.

FullSizeRender(3)The second tattoo came along when I was 53. Having gotten one, I decided ‘why not?’ on a second one. I do believe that once you get one, you get more. There’s something about the experience. I won’t lie. It hurts. It hurts a lot. But there’s something addicting about the pain Yeah, I know. I’m a sick puppy. The second tattoo was my Aquarius waves glyph on my left arm.

IMG_0207(1)So my third tattoo was added at age 57. It sits on my right arm.

IMG_0190(1)Am I done? I don’t know. Tattoos are kind-of like having babies. You forget the pain. It just takes a while (for me) to do so – usually a few years! Maybe I’ll get my next one to celebrate my 60th birthday. We all get our thrills in different ways, I guess. I’m just thrilled to be here and thrilled to be happy and relaxed for the first time in many years. Life is truly beautiful.



“Why did you ever marry me? I didn’t turn out as expected,” Hubby said to me this morning.

That’s just it – I didn’t have any expectations 25 years ago when we wed.  I didn’t have any expectations 26 years ago when we met either.  I waited a long time to get married.  I was 30. We didn’t meet until I was 29.  I used to say that my Prince Charming was coming, but he had fallen off of his horse and he was walking.

expectationsWho can say why we fall in love with who we do?  I worked at a company for many years in my early 20’s that employed dozens of young computer programmers, 90% of them male and probably 60% of them single. I was too shy to draw anyone’s attention, and I certainly wasn’t ready for anything serious at that age.

I don’t regret now that I was a late bloomer. It took my Dad’s passing away when I was 28 to jar me out of the rut that I was in.  He used to worry about me incessantly.  My Mom told me years later that he was always asking what was going to become of me.  I was single, still living with my parents and had never dated anyone seriously.  My Mom was only a teenager when my parents met, and she waited five years for him to come home from WWII before they married and settled down. They knew what they wanted when they both were very young.

I didn’t have any expectations.  Hubby was selling advertising for a local newspaper when we met, and he was making half as much money as I was.  I clearly did not marry him for his money.  That was never important to me.  After we wed, and I was only a few weeks pregnant with son #1, Hubby lost his job for the first time.  Son #1 arrived, and Hubby was still unemployed. The nice part was that we spent the six weeks of my maternity leave learning how to be parents together.  We took turns caring for this little fellow we’d created. Hubby returned to work one week after I did.  He started in computers, and he would work in IT for 20 years. At one point his pay rate bypassed mine, and that was great but it wasn’t something I expected or hoped for.

We were both forced to start over again in 2010.  He lost his job first and had trouble finding a new one.  He would turn to trucking since he loved to drive and had grown up riding along with his Uncle who was a trucker.  It seemed like a natural fit. I was also laid off and found another job within 8 weeks.  I went back to working for a law firm and dusted off my Intellectual Property knowledge and skills after having been away from it for 9 years.

I still don’t have any expectations other than spending time together on the weekends.  We’ll never be wealthy, and we’ll probably always struggle to pay the bills. As long as we have those weekends to look forward to, though, we have more than some folks do.  We enjoy each other’s company, and we talk about what’s bothering us.  We don’t always see eye to eye, but we manage to compromise.  We struggle with the distance and the separation, but we work hard at making that work, too.

Expectation means “a strong belief that something will happen or be the case in the future.” I guess Hubby did meet my expectations after all. Deep down I wanted someone to share my life with, someone who would love me “warts and all”, someone I could share my hopes and dreams with, someone who would care for me as much as I cared for them.  We have that.