In defense of tattoos. To a Catholic MIL.

So you’re horrified that I’m getting tattoos because they’re sinful and now I’m a heathen going to hell. Right? I willing to bet the arguments you’re going to make are that the Bible says tattoos are bad and that our bodies are a temple? Am I right? Let’s break these two down before I go further. (A) Bible says no tattoos. (B) Bible says body is a temple.

(A) Bible says no tattoos:

Leviticus 19:28: “Do not cut your bodies for the dead or put tattoo marks on yourselves. I am the Lord.”

OK, first of all, the word for tattoo didn’t exist until the 1700’s. The Bible wasn’t written in English. Second of all Leviticus? Come on. If we’re going full Leviticus, it says not to eat shellfish (Lev. 11:9-12), use mixed fabrics (Lev. 19:19), or harvest the edges of fields for some reason (Lev. 19:9). So how’s it going in that cotton blend you’re wearing? Comfy? Wanna throw on a polyester blend and go get some shrimp at the Red Lobster? I’ve totally seem you eat a lobster, BTW. It’s not worth all that effort.

Also, I’m gonna just directly quote this next paragraph from this page because they said it well:

“Not all of Leviticus is written to everyone. There were abominations that applied only to the Jews such as eating shellfish, rabbit, and pork, etc., which were things that typologically represented purity before the Lord. We know this because God says, “Speak to the sons of Israel saying…” He gives instructions to the Israelites, not to the rest of the nations.”

Before we leave Leviticus, lets discuss the word tattoo — which, ya know, didn’t even exist. For this, lets hop over to BibleStudyTools.com:

“Leviticus 19:28 literally translates, “And a cutting for the dead you will not make in your flesh, and writing marks you will not make on you; I am the Lord.” [….] The background of this law was that Israel, after being rescued from slavery, was between Egypt and Canaan. […] In Canaan, evidence indicates that instead of marking the body with ink, more extreme scarification measures, like branding, slashing, or gashing the skin were used. Archeology, backed by biblical texts, indicates the Canaanites would customarily slash their bodies for ritualistic purposes (1 Kings 18:28), especially to mourn their dead and honor their gods. Leviticus 19:28 seems to imply this when it says, “you will not make cuttings in your flesh, for the dead, nor print marks on you.” In light of this information from Egypt and Canaan, it would seem God was forbidding scarification, not tattooing as we know it.””

Even with out all that, I think we can agree that Leviticus is a little out of date. Especially, being that it’s the Old Testament which was overcome by the New Testament when Jesus came because everyone was too inept to follow the rules. God threw us a bone (206 of them in the form of Jesus) and rewrote everything. So yeah, enjoy your cotton blend PJs.

(B) Bible says body is a temple:

Ok, for real — this is laughable. A CATHOLIC saying I can’t give my temple a paint job? Have you ever been in a Catholic church? For real? All that gold paint and gaudiness? Yall love gold paint and marble almost as much as Donald Trump. So don’t talk to my Lutheran ass about decorating a temple. Period.

(C) The Coptic Christian Cross

The Coptic Christians almost require a tattoo of the Coptic Cross. It’s usually on the inside of your wrist. This dates back to them being ostracized and marked when everyone was forced to convert to Islam. They refused to convert and were marked for it. This way they could be easily ostracized. In some churches, they would check for the tattoo before you could even come in to make sure you were a Christian. Coptic Christians make pilgrimages to this day to get this tattoo. It’s a religious experience and part of who they are. And yeah, it’s a TATTOO.

Midlife Crisis? Not a thing.

So as I start the week of my fortieth birthday, I am approaching midlife. Technically, I’m past midlife as, in the US, life expectancy is 77.28 years (by 2020 data, probably took a drastic fall with Covid). So I passed midlife slightly over a year ago. When I had a tummy tuck and new boobs installed and started getting tattoos. Could these be symptoms of a midlife crisis? Nope.

See, the thing is: Midlife just happens to coincide with the time in your life when you can finally afford to do the shit you’ve been wanting to do for two decades. A suburban husband buys a stupidly impractical sports car and we call it a midlife crisis and think he’s acting like he’s twenty. Nope. No, he wanted that car when he was twenty but he couldn’t afford it. He’s just finally getting the chance to live his dream. He slaves away his life at work and he just wants to enjoy his fucking car.

People hitting midlife and getting divorces? Well, that relationship wasn’t working for them. They have enough experience to go “yeah, I don’t wanna do this anymore.” That’s not a midlife crisis, that’s a midlife reckoning.

In a way, I think it’s the exact opposite of a crisis. It’s the age where you’re finally confident in yourself and who you are (or maybe you’ve figured out who you’d rather be). Plus you finally have security and money for the first time your life. Add it together and you get people making big changes.

Bring on 40. I’m here for it.

I started my sleeve! (Sleeve Session 1)

Yesterday, I finally got to start my tattoo sleeve! It’s going to take a good while to finish because I didn’t book any more appointments in advance and we’ll have to break for summer (cause I’m not missing pool time to heal). It’s going to be the adorable bow-tie photo of Jack on a background of Fall leaves with pumpkins in front of him around the bottom. It’ll be a 3/4 sleeve. That way I can roll up my sleeves a bit and still not show if it’s for a job interview. Also, I just love raglan sleeves and the 3/4 length of them so yeah.

Reminder of the photo:

So I chose the absolutely fabulous Devon Greig in Nashville for the job (she did my goomba when we consulted for the sleeve). This is her first photo realism portrait but you’d never know it. She’s amazing. Look at this:

It looks like a painting! I’m blown away. I couldn’t have asked for better! I am in love with it. It’s my Jack!

She chose to just focus on the face in this session since it was so detailed. It took just around 4 hours of tattooing. I scheduled appointments in February and in April to do more work on it. The plan is to get his body and pumpkins in before summer. Then finish it out Next Fall/Winter. I’m so excited! Here’s the progress shots I took while she worked on it. He kinda looks like a terminator Jack with half a face here:

Man, her skill just blows me away. I could paint this, sure — but I can go over spots again and again to get them right. I can’t imagine doing it with a tattoo gun and not being able to revise any mistakes! And her FIRST realism tattoo. Damn, girl! Amazing.

She’s a pleasure to work with too! I told her I wanted to cover up my elbow fat lump because I hate it so much. I feel like if we did the half sleeve above the elbow, it would stand out even more. She was like yeah, we’ll just put a pumpkin there! Excellent. I am psyched.

Also, this didn’t hurt half as much as my ankle tattoo. The ankle felt like having a freshly skinned knee for a few days and a lot of burning as it went in. This felt like scratching sure, but tolerable. I mean, yeah it’s gonna hurt, but I expected worse. The only part that hurt the most was the closer she got to my collar bone — so that ear. The mid face was totally fine. I suspect the REAL pain will be when we get to the elbow and especially my scar. But for now, it doesn’t even feel like anythings there. So awesome.

In between chatting with Devon, I watched Enola Holmes on my phone. It’s got Millie Bobby Brown, Henry Cavill, and Helena Bonham Carter. It took a good bit to get going, but once it did it was awesome.

FUCK

I just looked it up to get the spelling of the actors names and I watched the SEQUEL yesterday. No wonder if took a while to get going. Fuck me, I watched them out of order. I guess I’ll be watching the first one today then…

Cavill quit the Witcher!?

I’m so devastated that Henry Cavill announced he is leaving the Witcher. HE IS GERALT. He’s sex on a stick as Geralt. He’s gushed about this character. He wanted to be this character. He’s a big fan of this character and he’s quitting for Superman? Fucking Superman sucks.

But you know, I may be a naive idiot, but I truly believe Henry Cavill is a big fat nerd and would choose the Witcher over Superman. I think he’s leaving, not for Superman, but because Netflix isn’t remaining true to the source material he loves. Everyone fucking loves the Witcher — and Netflix wants that. But the books are about Ciri. And they’ve already deviated a lot from the books to keep Ciri and Geralt together (Ciri should have been sent off to lean magic at the temple and eventually train with Yennifer alone). And the next bit is Ciri getting lost and spending at least what would equate to a whole season on her own with little horse in the desert and then joining the rats.

It sucked reading the parts with just Ciri cause you’re watching/reading for Geralt. But that’s the source material. And I don’t think Netflix wants to do that. Not that it wasn’t still good. The books also switch to Geralt’s journey to find Ciri and we meet two of the most awesome characters — Milva and Regis because of it. But I don’t think Netflix wants to gamble on us watching the real story if it means leaving Cavill out for huge swaths of time. Which it requires.

I admit, I LOVE Cavill as Geralt. He’s insanely hot dirtied up with grey hair. Like hot. He does nothing for me as Superman. However, I think his nerdy ass self kept the Netflix show on track. Without him it’s gonna be a shit show that completely veers from the books. Netflix knows we wanna watch Geralt and not a whole season of just Ciri coming to age. But Cavill knows thats an important part of the story that needs to be told. So he’s bailing rather than bastardizing the material. IMO

Like I said, they’ve already changed a lot from the books. The monoliths weren’t in the books. In the books, Ciri grew up knowing about Geralt and loved him and wanted him to take her to be a Witcher but he didn’t want to. But now that it’s time to really commit to Ciri as the central character, I believe, Netflix is chickening out. And this makes me sad. I could skip the Ciri bits, sure — but the Geralt bits that come after are awesome! I wanna meet Regis! I fucking love Regis!

Dammit, Netflix! You suck and I hope the show doesn’t even finish now.

He’s Gone

Yesterday we said goodbye to my fuzzy soulmate. I had spent all week thinking of the million things that could go wrong and stressing out. But it went well. He had a good death. I had second guessed myself — he was doing so good and happy, maybe we should wait? But he was on 5 different medications plus IV fluids and two of those medications were for pain. You’d think it would have been the kidney disease we treated for two years or the cancer we discovered a month ago. Nope. Just an old cat with arthritis. He was just in too much pain between those miracle shots. So we chose to let him go before the second shot wore off. I couldn’t let him be in so much pain again.

He had a good week. No pain. He cleaned his plate every day. We had cake every day. We celebrated his birthday. He ate at the table with us. K even brought him his own Arby’s sandwich. I let him go outside. He wasn’t interested, but he went out and nommed a leaf in the back and a fern in the front. He had the option. I gave him tons of kisses. We took a family selfie. I camped out on the couch so he could sleep in his heated bed and still be able to see me without having to go upstairs. He woke me up every morning and wished me sweet dreams every night. Just like always.

When Friday came, I did what was right by him. We took him to the vet at 8:00am. Mr C drove us. They gassed him and put in a catheter and handed him back — still groggy and in a cone. Lord help, that cone was a bit of levity we needed. When he woke up half-way to home, he was looking around like the Pixar light. And lord, the lemons. Why lemons? We laughed.

I didn’t make him wear the cone all morning. It was only 3 hours so I figured I’d keep a close eye on him. We snuggled. We had more cake. He couldn’t rest with his foot all bandaged up as it was bothering him. So an hour before they came, I gave him a big dose or gabapentin as they told me to. He fell asleep in his heated cat bed for the last hour. When the vet arrived, Mr C let them in while I woke him up gently. He was a sleepy kitty. We sat on the couch and I held him like a baby with his head draped sleepily over my arm. There was only a brief interruption where they unwrapped his cath. But he quickly forgave them. I hugged him and stroked his head while he fell asleep for the last time. He had the faintest bit of a purr right before he fell asleep.

I had held it together pretty well. But as he curled into a limp ball in my arms and they confirmed he was gone… I lost it. I ugly cried and wailed like a terrible movie actress clutching a dead cat. My beloved Jack was gone.

God bless and be with the sweet vets who have to see people go through that every day.

He was so much more than a pet to me. I hate to say he was my everything because I have to move on without him. I have Mr C and family and friends. But when I got Jack, for a long time he was my everything. There were times I only willed to live because who would take care of my Jack? We lived alone when I had no friends or family relationships to speak of. He was with me through all my therapy. I got him in 2005 when I still lived in the college dorms! I got reported for having a cat daily, but I had my therapist declare him a therapy cat so it was allowed. Man that really got under peoples skin. Ha.

He was with me through every date I ever had. I told him all my secrets. I loved him as much if not more than he loved me. We were a part of each other. I’ve always loved coming home. Some people dally at work or hang out at the gym or go to the bar to avoid home, but not me. No screaming kids here. Just my beautiful house, Mr C and my sweet Jack. He was always so happy to see me and I to see him. We’d hug and tell each other about our days. He was always a talker. (His name was Screamer when he was adopted as a little kitten.) And we’d settle in to mindlessly relax and watch TV and wile away the hours on the internet while he purred in my lap.

At some point he stopped sleeping with me all night. But he’d still wish me goodnight and make sure I wasn’t going anywhere before he left. I made sure to get a picture of our last goodnight on Thursday…

Sweet dreams, Jack

God I loved that cat more than you can imagine. He wasn’t a cat to me. And last night I bawled again as the only prayer I could get manage to get out through the tears was to please take care of my Jack.

I’ll get a cat again. But there will never be another Jack. He knew me before I knew myself. He took care of me by giving me a reason to get up and keep going. He was the best friend I could have wished for.

It is scheduled.

Jack is scheduled for at home euthanasia next Friday, the 14th. I would appreciate your prayers during this tough time for me and for him. Losing him and mom is just… *sigh* too much to bear.

For the cat owners out there, I’d like to point out two medications that have been amazing for him. First, the Porus One for his kidneys. It’s a powder to sprinkle on their wet food daily and it actually has his kidney levels looking better than when he was diagnosed with kidney failure two years ago. And he doesn’t even notice it. So much better than the pill I was giving him before.

The second is the Solensia shot for arthritis. This one is a miracle in a monthly shot. I took him to the vet almost three weeks ago and he was in so much pain he wasn’t eating. They gave him this shot and by the time we got home, he went straight to his food and his old younger self. Amazing game changer.

Unfortunately for Jack, the shot wore off quicker than a month. Yesterday he took a very sudden and unexpected turn. He didn’t touch his breakfast and was in so much pain he didn’t want to leave his heated cat bed. So today we went back for another. He’s already obviously feeling better. He’s eating again and just hopped up on the couch with me. So with hope and prayers, I hope we will have a good pain free last week.

Next Thursday I will take him to the vet one last time for some happy gas and a catheter placement. Then on Friday they will come here and be able to give him the medications through the already-placed catheter. So Thursday night, I’ll blow up an air mattress and we’ll have a slumber party in the living room. I hope he will be pain-free enough to enjoy some treats he’s not been allowed to have in a long time.

Over here living my best life

I’m sorry I haven’t been posting. I’ve got a few posts cued in my head to write but I’ve just been so tired. Between working out (which I didn’t even do last week) and working, I’m just beat. Work is a fucking grade-A tragedy right now. What a cluster fuck. I think the government is going to pull funding on our contract for real. I’m also worrying a lot about Jack — did he eat enough, is he in pain, is he breathing well? So that’s a lot of emotional energy. Oh and of course worrying about Mr C’s shoulder which I’ve had to keep clean and dressed – and is HE getting enough to eat too? So much emotional energy. And I feel like I have no time to just chill. Which isn’t true, but I’m just tired, yall. I’m tired. But not today!

Why not today? Because we died my hair pink! I’m absolutely in love with it. K’s mom did it this morning. I had such a great day! I went over to K’s house this morning and her mom dyed both our hair pink and K2 joined us just to hang out. Then, when we were going to head out, we were all hungry so I picked up Mr C and we went to this really cool screened patio between the new 5 Guys and Super Chix. Excellent day.

It’s been a busy weekend. I hate busy weekends but It’s been good! Friday was my off-Friday so I spent the morning getting all the vines off the house and trimming the bushes while Mr C was at the doc. I thought this would make Mr C very happy since he’s mentioned those damn vines a couple of times but it did not. He wasn’t unhappy — he was just “meh” about it. So that was a wasted effort. It would have had to be done eventually, but it didn’t have to be done on my day off. Oh well. The house looks excellent. Especially, with all my Fall decorations! I put up Norbert and the pumpkins and mums in the entry way are on point. I love pulling up in the driveway to see them. And I’m very proud of how nice the yard and bushes look. Some times I wonder if Mr C realizes how much I do, but I guess you just gotta do it for yourself. And I like how it makes me feel.

Also Saturday was October first! And how did we celebrate? Well K and K2 came over and we watched Hocus Pocus 1 and then the new Hocus Pocus 2! Then we went to Pinots Pallet and painted BAT CATS!

Thats my bat cat on the right with the last Halloween one we did three years ago on the left.

So good weekend. Yep, yep. And a great agenda coming up. Circus on Thursday! Not the mean-animal kinda. It’s the fun acrobatic, holy-shit-how-did-they-do-that kind. And Mr C and I are having professional photos done on Saturday for our upcoming tenth wedding anniversary! And whats so close that it’s showing up in my google calendar? THE START OF MY SLEEVE TATTOO!

So yeah, I’m tired and emotionally exhausted but life is good. Real good. I mean, the cats dying so that’s harsh, but it’s part of having a pet. You get to pour all of your love into them and then they… well, they don’t last forever. I’ve chosen the urn for his ashes. All that’s left is to keep him comfortable and to try to give him the best last days we can. With lots of extra kisses and snuggles.

Jack

My precious little soul-shard is approaching the end of his life.  The past two weeks he’s been eating less and less to the point where he was only taking two bites of his food and then never going back for more.  I couldn’t even sway him with cheese!  His food looked like refried beans with cheese – even microwaved to melt the cheese – but no dice.  He wouldn’t eat it.  So I took him to the Vet on Monday.  I wanted an update on his kidneys and to adjust his pain meds anyway.  So away we went. 

It did not go well.  He screamed like a banshee as they tried to draw blood.  I could hear him and I was horrified.  I wanted to run to him and help them.  He’s better with me.  But it continued.  I called Mr C to keep from crying.  Finally, the vet came in and asked if they could sedate him to draw his blood.  Of course, I agreed.  Please dear God let him sleep.  I know that cats hide pain well, but I knew Jack was in pain.  I thought I was just attuned to him.  I had no idea the amount of pain he was really in. 

I knew when I trimmed his nails he was much more sensitive than usual.  And He took a lot longer to get comfortable laying down.  But apparently, I only saw the tip of the iceburg.  His lack of eating might very well have been that he was just miserable and in pain.  He gets gabapentin twice a day for pain.  However, they gave him a brand new arthritis medicine at the vet.  It’s a shot they get monthly.  And while he was out, they took X-Rays to try and understand what was wrong with him while the blood tests processed.   I was much calmer knowing he was asleep and I no longer heard his wails of anguish so I waited to hear what the vet thought. 

Surprisingly, his kidney function is actually better than when he was diagnosed with kidney failure.  The vet commended me on my obvious work to get him healthy.  We had both expected him to have taken a turn for the worse and that was what was happening.   But no.  The X-rays showed a far worse problem.  He has a large mass in his abdomen.  It already almost fills his entire abdominal cavity.  She was surprised he didn’t suffer from shortness of breath.  The only thing I’ve noticed is more pain and the lack of eating.  I’d have never known.  

So this is much more dire than kidney failure.  Without knowing what kind of mass it is, we don’t know how aggressive it is.  It could be weeks, it could be months – but this mass will choke out his lungs and heart.  She talked to me about the options.  She made clear the emphasize that we needed to consider “to what end.”  She could send me to a veterinary oncologist who could do a soft tissue biopsy and find out what kind of cancer or growth it is.  Then we could possibly treat it with radiation or chemo.  But to what end?  He’ll be 17 next month.  He’s already outlived his kidney diagnosis.  And he absolutely HATES the vet.  Jack does not want to leave the house.  It pains me to take him to the vet at all.  He’s an old man cat.  He doesn’t need that stress.  And a surgery at another vet just to diagnose?  And for what?  Another month or two with him?  Weeks of cancer treatments and vet visits?  A life in a cone to keep him from opening his wounds? 

No. 

I just watched my sister take her senior dog to another state for cancer treatment.  Only to have to put her down a week later.  And the dog suffered because she wouldn’t let her go.  I won’t do that to Jack. 

I explained to the vet that money was not the issue.  Jack is my everything.  I cried.  He’s my little familiar.  My fuzzy soul mate.  But what would she do with her own cat?  Would she pursue it to no end?  No.  I will not do anything invasive.  I want him to have the best quality of life with what he has left.  So we decided on hospice – palliative care.  We’ll treat his pain and try to get him eating.  In 3 weeks we’ll check him out again and do a quality of life assessment.  And when the time comes, I will have someone come to the house.  I don’t want his final moments to be terror at the vets office.  We’ll have cake icing and oreo cream and Arbys sandwiches and he’ll fall asleep at home with me. So we decided on ramped up pain medication via the monthly shot.  We’ll do a appetite stimulant that gets rubbed in his cute little ear.  And potassium as his levels were low and it might put a little more pep in his step.  I’m pleased to say that when we got home he went to his food bowl and took a bite.  Not much, but progress!  He didn’t even notice that I gave him his appetite stimulant as I love petting his fuzzy little ears.  I put his potassium gel in a butter cup and he slowly lapped it up.  That cat loves cream.  Throughout the evening he ate more and more.  I felt terrible that it must have been the pain that was causing him not to eat.  As the shot took effect, he was much happier to nom on his leftover breakfast. This morning I can happily say that he cleaned his dinner plate for the first time in weeks!  And I told him what a good boy he was via some ear rubs with a little appetite stimulant snuck in.

Nerds Unite!

So I was at the surgery center for a few hours today. Mr C had a minor outpatient procedure. So I had to stay the whole time. I waited by the elevator at the entrance because a guy in the waiting room was smacking his gum and fuck that.

Anyway, I’m reading my Sandman Graphic novel because the Netflix series was fabulous and now I’m down the rabbit hole. And I’m wearing my favorite Super Mario shirt like I do. And this guy walks in and says “cool shirt.” Thanks, random guy! Well, he was in the wrong building so he walks back by (on the way out) and asks if that’s my car with the goomba on it. Hell yeah it is, it matches my tattoo. I indicate my sweet ass goomba tattoo. He nerds out and goes “It’s even pixelated!” I say I know, she did great, right? He says hes a big Bowser fan and we nerd bonded for a second.

Yall, a stranger thinks I’m cool. Which totally means I am.