Little Human and Me

I’m not the parental type.  I have no children, nor any desire to have my own little humans.  Normally, I shy away from little humans of most ages due to a strong feeling of anxiety when I’m around them.  It doesn’t matter if it’s a baby or a teenager, the anxiety builds until I get away or I panic.  I don’t understand them and I don’t have the patience necessary to be around little humans. 

Last night there was an exception.  My roommate and I met for dinner with Christine and her besties family.  I sat next to their six year old son while his parents sat across the table.  I took it upon myself to entertain this child since his parents were busy with his little brother.  I couldn’t stand looking at him sitting all alone with his parents giving most of their attention to his younger brother.  I’m sure he’s used to it and has found ways to entertain himself. 

Growing up the younger child, I was the one who always got the attention while my sister had to help my mother with me.  I’m empathetic to this little human and his new responsibilities placed upon him at such a young age.  He deserves to be doted on like his little brother, and for a short time I wanted to do this for him.  Maybe I felt like it was my duty to make up for all the times my sister changed my diaper, made me breakfast, and gave me a new bottle.  I’m not sure, but I saw in this child a young adult in a tiny body that needed a little bit of extra attention, and I was able to offer it.  He needed an hour to be able to act like the six-year-old that he is.

Amazingly, I didn’t feel the normal anxiety that I have when I’m near a small human like him.  Together we worked on the puzzles and colored the children’s placemat provided by the restaurant.  I helped him unscramble the words and learn his letters.  It was fun and he got excited with every new activity we found on the little piece of paper.  Watching his smile and his eyes light up with joy was incredible and made me feel just as happy.

When the activities were complete, I pulled out my phone.  I have no apps on my phone for children, of course, so I figured I’d download a free one or two.  As soon as he saw Candy Crush on my phone, that was it.  Daniel, in all his excitement, went wild and wanted to play.  Since I have been stuck on one particular level for a day now and can’t seem to get past it I figured this can’t hurt.  What does the little human do?  He conquers the level I can’t get past.  Sigh…

I helped him order his food and when we received it, I cooled it down for him.  At six, he is pretty much self-sufficient so he ate on his own – this is either a product of good parenting or being the older sibling.  I gave him some of my mac-n-cheese and watched him eat his quesadilla.  I felt like the Grinch whose heart was two sizes too small and now ballooned with love and fascination for this little human – at least temporarily.

Overall, I had a great night.  I was amazed at my ability to remain calm and amuse this child.  Does this make me want to have children or entertain the idea of becoming a mother?  No.  Little humans in small doses are all I need.  Later in the evening, I’m pretty sure I felt my heart shrink back down to its normal size.

Being Normal

Every work day I wake up and go to work.  I don’t really think much about life and what is going on around me until I start to head home for the day.  Usually on my way home, I reflect back on the day and my actions.  I ask myself, how did I do today?  Did I have any brief manic episodes, or how did work, and the people around me, make me feel today?  This is usually when I ponder how I am handling my medication changes.

I’ve been on the Seroquel now for just over a month.  The mania has gotten to the point where I am settled and normal.  I’m not manic and I’m not depressed…I’m just…normal.  It’s an odd feeling really.  I’ve lost those moments of extreme elation coupled with strange eccentricities and I’ve evened out.  I don’t know what to do with myself now.

Not only gone are the manic cycles, but so are the depressive cycles.  Again, this is another strange feeling.  I used to wear my depression like it was a second skin; it was a way to protect myself from further damage.  Now it’s gone and I don’t know what to do.  I can’t cry anymore, I can’t feel sad anymore.  I’m…normal.

I keep using this word normal over and over again.  What is normal?  Normal to me is bland.  It’s a state of no feeling.  I don’t know if I’m happy or sad now.  What should I be?  Should I be happy the medication is working and no longer causing me to be bizarre around my friends?  Or should I be happy that the medication has finally taken away the relentless sadness that has been enveloping me for months, even years?

This is why people with mood cycling disorders do not continue their medication for long.  We miss the highs from the mania.  It’s like a drug or a sirens call to us.  We crave these feelings because that is when we feel our best.  We hate this… this… normal feeling.  We don’t want to be normal.  If we could remain manic the rest of our lives and not hurt ourselves, or the people around us, we would find a way.  But sadly, we cannot.  Being in a manic state, while fun and exciting, is potentially harmful to ourselves and those we care about.  While manic, we don’t think about the effects we have on ourselves or surroundings – it doesn’t matter.  What matters is right now and the good time we are having.

While I am glad that I am normal, I’m struggling to cope.  This is a new feeling for me.  I equate it to being on a roller coaster and then getting off.  You want to go again right away because it was fun, but then there was also that long wait in line that takes an hour.  We want the fun – we want to get back on and do it all over again – but we don’t want the wait that goes along with it so we move on and hope something else comes along that will capture our interest.

March Beer-Cation

This weekend Christine and I had another beer-cation.  This time we went to Jacksonville.  Our first stop was at Brewer’s Pizza.  There we met with another friend and sampled Pinglehead Imperial American Amber brewed on the premise.  The beer is an imperial red ale that was slightly hoppy and a medium body.  It paired great with the pizza we had for lunch.

From there, we made our way to Green Room Brewery in Jacksonville Beach.  I had their Tsumani Szechuan Saison.  It’s a traditional saison brewed with Szechuan peppers.  This beer was spicy but light.  I also had the Undertow which is a barleywine.  It’s brewed with orange blossom honey and had was light and refreshing but yet complex.  I enjoyed both.

As we walked into Green Room’s Taproom, we met up un-expectantly with a couple friends we’ve met from The Abbey in DeLand.  It was a nice surprise and we made plans to meet up with them later at the Silver Cow.  We sat at the bar and were served by Joey, a UF Gators fan.  It was fun harassing him since Christine is a graduate of UCF and also an FSU fan.  We had him cracking up the entire time we sat there.

There was also the douchebag driving the convertible Corvette.  He was so full of himself he made sure that his conversation carried throughout the entire taproom.  At one point, he was on his cell phone talking about finding a rental house and that he was not going to pay $1200/month.  Then his “employee” joined him at the bar and again we heard him discussing a business deal with his “employee” telling him he would have to invest money in the deal.  That to me does not sound like and employer/employee relationship – that’s more of a money laundering deal.

We left Green Room and made our way to Engine 15 brewery.  Here we both had Van Diest Fruli Strawberry Wheat and then I had a flight of Engine 15 beers. My liver started screaming at me but I showed it who was boss and continued drinking.  We also tried their beer cheese dip and pigs in a blanket.  Both were exceptional.

Now it was time to head to Silver Cow.  This is where we met up with our friends from earlier.  This place was small and quaint.  Coffee table books of all different topics were placed sporadically throughout the bar along with a couch at one end of the place.  Our friends were on the couch and we joined them in chair across from them.  Instead of beer, I tried their house pinot noir.  It was awful and tasted like cardboard.  Normally, I love a good red wine.  This was bad but I couldn’t waste perfectly good alcohol so I drank it.

It was getting late so we decided to find our hotel.  Neither of us had a real meal most of the day.  Christine checked in and we went on a hunt for a small bite to eat.  Big mistake.  Urban Spoon said that Jacksonville Grill was a good choice but it left us wandering a bad neighborhood fearing for our safety.  At this point, we decided to forgo food since we’ve had enough carbs from beer all day and go back to the hotel.  Never again Urban Spoon!  I’ll use Yelp now.

We found our room and crashed.  Both of us slept pretty well. 

The next morning we found Metro Diner.  OMG!  Incredible food!!!

I ordered the three egg breakfast with a side of sausage gravy and biscuits.  I love sausage gravy and I try to sample it if it’s available.  Christine had the surf and turf eggs benedict with a crab cake and ribeye steak.  She called it man-food.  I call it all delicious.  The portions were huge and so incredibly yummy.  For anyone passing through Jacksonville, you must eat here!

Today, we decided to slow down a little.  It didn’t help that most taprooms were closed on Sunday.  We found our way to 7 Bridges, which is not a brewery but they do have craft beers.  We sat at the bar and had a delightful conversation with the bartender as she prepared for the day.  She kept us laughing all morning.  I had an Irish Red Ale while Christine and I shared their warm cinnamon donuts.  Both were delicious.  The bartender gave us two pilsner glasses to take home with us.  I have a few pilsner glasses and I was all too happy to add another to my collection.

Next stop was River City Brewing Company.  They had a brunch buffet going on and lots of people eating.  We made our way to the bar to discover a very frazzled bartender.  She was all over the place and letting out her frustrations for the entire bar to see and hear.  I felt sorry for her.

I ordered bloody mary – it is brunch after all!  Christine and I made our way outside to sit in the sun along the water way.  It was nice to enjoy getting some rays while lying across a wood bench drinking my bloody mary.  The seagulls were squawking and the river was lapping at the boat’s hulls. 

Rather than continuing to drink, we walked around the Museumof Science and History.  It is a small museum and worth the $8 admission for students/$10 for adults.  I discovered a rather large splinter in the back of my heel.  We couldn’t get it out so I continued on, limping.  The exhibits were small and certainly not Smithsonian quality, but there are plenty of hands on experiences for children.

Tired from the weekend activities, we started making our way toward home.  Of course, we can’t drive near JB’s Fish Camp without making a stop for awesome seafood along the lagoon.  Our waitress felt she was not attentive enough to us because another large table next to us kept dragging her attention away so she gave us free oreo pie.  It was just as yummy as the shrimp I had for dinner. 

I felt bad for her.  She was running ragged, trying to make this table happy, but they were terrible customers.  Every five minutes they kept asking for another order of this or that and not letting her take care of her other tables.  They were clearly disrespectful to her and exceptionally needy.  Please be kind to your servers.  They are not super heroes that can read your mind or magically make your food appear.

My tab came to $10.69.  In fear she wouldn’t get a good tip from the mean people at the other table, I gave her $10 tip.  Christine did the same too.  I hope we made her smile.

Returning home, I unpacked, cleaned my bathroom a bit and then crashed.

Where Do I Belong?

Last night I was having a particularly low night.  It wasn’t too low, and it was short, but still the thoughts of vulnerability were there.  I snuggled with my stuffie bear I named Gunnor and wondered, “Where do I belong?”

I had a friend that I was close with for a while and we had great communication, but no more.  He’s off doing his own thing and I’m left behind.  I miss this interaction we had and the critical conversations we often shared.  When I had a thought or an idea I wanted to explore, I would send him an e-mail and get a logical, well thought out, response back that challenged my opinion.  I enjoy this type of mental stimulation and I get bored without it.   I haven’t been able to find this type of communication with anyone else and I miss it.  In a way, I feel lost without it and I wonder if I’ll ever find someone that shares the same motivation to learn and share knowledge the same way he did.

All of these thoughts made me depressed but I still had an overall sense that I was okay.  The Seroquel my psychiatrist prescribed has started to take its effect along with the Lexapro I’ve been taking.  I noticed that I’m much calmer and not so manic lately.  My moods feel as though they are stabilizing now and not swinging so wildly like they were.  I know I’m sad but I still have underlying feelings of happiness and the feeling that everything will be okay.  It’s strange how medication can alter our neurochemistry and make us feel this way.

I’ve also noticed that my introversion is becoming stronger now that my disposition is mellowing out.  I find more and more that I don’t need, or want, to talk to anyone.  I sit at work content to do my job while interacting with as few people as possible.  In the evenings, I go home and make my dinner then read while being satisfied to live in my own bubble.  The word truly is “contentment”.  I am not starving for outside communication, or the need to interact with anyone else.  I am enjoying being alone, knowing the world is just outside going on without me and knowing that I could step into it at any time I choose.  I equate this to sitting at a sidewalk café watching the people walk on by, knowing I could join in at any time, but I’m simply happy here sipping my coffee alone and reading a book.  I’m good with letting the world continue to spin without my interaction.

Weekend recap:

This weekend was the 12-hour race at Sebring International Raceway.  This is where Mickey wanted to have his ashes be laid to rest.  I got there and immediately got lost.  Brian paid for a parking pass but I decided to use the free parking outside the track.  He found his way back to turn 10 while I had to walk the entire raceway which is a daunting task to place to navigate to begin with and was leaving me anxious.  Halfway there, I realized I had a small blister forming on the side of my foot that made it difficult to walk which left me even more frustrated than I already was at the moment. 

To get to the infield where Brian had parked, I had to cross over a car bridge with no foot traffic allowed.  The mean police officer yelled at me as I was trying to walk up and ask him how to get across.  He roughly turned me around and told me to wait by the tree and hitch a ride over the bridge.  As I walked up to this tree, I felt tears forming because the anxiety was building and I knew I couldn’t have a break down here, alone.

I stood by the tree and watched vehicle after vehicle cross the bridge and considered who I could ask to give me a ride over the bridge.  I finally gathered myself together and ran up to a large SUV that had his window rolled down and asked for a ride.  Before I even got my question out, he told me to get in the back.  I was stunned.  As I explained to him this was my first time at the track and why I was here, he told me that people do this sort of thing all the time and not to worry.  I felt relieved.  He even asked me if I wanted a ride somewhere on the other side but I jumped out at the base of the bridge.  That was definitely a new experience.

I finally found Brian and Lynn and said hi to Mickey inside Brian’s bag.  We watched the race for a while and then decided to go for a walk.  We found ourselves on a nice bluff between turns three and four where we sat and watched the race for a while longer.  Brian scooted down to the base of the bluff, punctured a hole in Mickey’s bag and laid his cremains out in the grass.  No one said a word to us.  We sat back on the bluff again and watched people walk around his ashes and the race in front of us for a while before deciding to get up and walk around again.

When we found our way back to turn one, and the main strip, I decided it was time for me to go.  My foot was sore and I was tired.  I made my way back to my car and drove away from the track leaving Mickey behind.  I cried most of the way northbound on Hwy 27 out of Sebring.  I kept thinking that he was being left behind and alone.  It was a terrible feeling to have and I couldn’t stop the tears.

I spent the next day with a friend.  We went to the Improv to see Christopher Titus perform.  I had a heavy heart, but the comedy was good.

Weekend Recap

I sat here thinking about what I did this past weekend and for the life of me I couldn't remember.  This is what happens when a person has ADD; we can't remember specific details as easily as the next person.  Our memory recall barely exists, if at all.  It's frustrating.  Tell me your name and I won't remember which is not all that uncommon, but also tell me details about your life or experiences and I won't remember those either.  Your face?  I won't remember that either.  Details are simply not absorbed into memory like most people's; however, give me a number and I'll remember it for life.

So what did I do this weekend?  I went ice skating again.  I was feeling confident.  I had been ice skating one other time since I wrote the earlier piece and I did okay.  A friend of mine had given me a bit of advice to help me skate and it worked.  I was able to skate and move away from the wall fairly easily.  Unfortunately, I still bobble quite a bit and I did fall once which was hilarious.  When I went down, I slid on the ice for a good 3-4 feet before stopping on my cushiony ass.  I laughed when I got back up.

This time the ice skating was not so fun.  For some reason I couldn't make it more than one lap before the arches in my feet started hurting.  I'm hoping that next time a gel insert will help the pain.  I mostly watched Ami skate and all the little kids.  I still had a great time so it was worth it.  We live and learn, right?

After skating, Ami and I did some shopping and enjoyed the day.  We didn't have any real plans and just mosey'd around all day.  I enjoy these kind of days with Ami.  Making plans for every hour of the day is stressful.  When we have days like this, we figure out where to go as the idea pops in our head.  It's great and it's good for the soul to not be stressed.

Backing up to the previous day, I bought a corset and Saturday a friend help me fit it on my body.  Wow, did this thing ever feel good.  Yes, it was tight but it made me sit up right and sucked in my waist line.  I felt and looked sexy.  I strutted around with my jeans and corset all evening feeling beautiful.  

The only problem is that for a full-figured woman, I have small breasts.  My cup size is only a B.  This makes it difficult to fit me for tops because most full-figured women have C cups or much larger.  The corset was no different.  In the cup area it pulled away from my body and left space so that it wasn't pushing up my breasts like a normal corset.  I still had room for more boobs.  I wish I was more proportional.

Back To Gym Class

In my quest to get healthy I decided to try out a new gym and take a Body Pump class last night.  I’ve done Body Pump classes in the past, and I really loved them.  I’m not fit and flexible enough to do every single workout but I do give it my all.  I purchased a Groupon voucher for 10 fitness glasses to Gold’s gym.  I figured this would be a great way to get started.

If you’ve never done a Body Pump class, it is essentially an aerobics class geared around the use of barbells and weights.  During the class, the participant will go through approximately 70-100 repetitions per body part.  It is intense to say the least.

I met my friend Brian at the gym after signing up.  We got all of our class items together and moved to the front, near the instructor.  My upper body is pretty strong, but my lower body needs work; mainly because of my feet.  I have plantar fasciitis in both feet which causes a lot of pain.  As we did squat and lunges, the downward pressure created intense discomfort in my arches and I had to stop to shake out my feet often.  I didn’t let that deter me and I kept going.

We eventually moved to the ground and worked out our chests with the bar bell.  This is always complicated because now I’m unable to see the instructor and follow her movement.  I found myself doing several single repetitions moving the barbell up in down.  Thank goodness no one else could see me.

Now back up to do back.  I LOVE working my back muscles.  Most people might find this to be awkward but I enjoy it.  I love the pinching of the muscles in my back and the growing strength.  My only problem is the constant downward pressure on my arches again so I couldn’t keep up completely.

At some point we get to more floor routines.  This includes push-ups and dips (using the step bench).  I cannot do push-ups without being on my knees and no way can I do dips.  I’m just too large at the moment and not only do I not have the muscle but also my size prevents me from being able to complete the movement.  I’m sure if I actually try it, it wouldn’t be so bad but I my fear of being a failure crawled into my head and I didn’t even try.  The instructor of course called me out - in front of everyone.  Can we say embarrassed?

I tried a modified version but that just wasn’t working for me at all.  Plus my step bench and mat were wobbling around which made me wonder, did I put it together correctly?  I wasn’t going to stop to try to check it and show the rest of the class that I didn’t know what I was doing.  I’m not going to be THAT girl.  No way.  Again, this is my self-consciousness coming through and my low self-esteem.

We finally finished the workout.  I felt great.  My muscles were sore, but no pain-no gain right?  I knew I was going to wake up and be stiff before I even left the gym.  As soon as I sat down in my car, the sweat on my warm back jolted me forward.  I laughed at myself.

Brian and I went for dinner.  I had grilled salmon with broccoli and asparagus.  This was a good ending to a stressful day at work.

This morning, like I predicted, my muscles are stiff and sore.  I feel weak and I would love to crawl back into bed all day.  Unfortunately, that’s not going to happen.

Communication and Random Thoughts

While I enjoy daylight savings time, I hate the time change.  I’m sure it messes me up just as much as the rest of you.  This week I haven’t wanted to get out of bed and I’ve been late for work every day.  Luckily my job doesn’t have a formal attendance policy and I can come and go as I need as long as I am at work roughly between 7am and 4pm.  It’s nice to have this casual atmosphere and helps make me a more productive employee to not have a boss breathing down my neck.

Lately I’ve been trying to be sure I take a more formal approach with my language and etiquette when speaking to Dominants as it worries me when I appear disrespectful.  Some of the conversations I have had recently have sparked my desire to be a better submissive and reminded me of what type of relationship I wish to have with a Dominant.  I have a tendency to lose formality with a Dominant-type as I get to know him and it bothers me.  I get comfortable, even with friendship, and I forget my submissive role.

Moving on to more thoughts…

Some of you may wonder, why D/s?  I need structure in my life.  I do not handle ambiguity well.  If the situation is not clearly black and white, I struggle and it weighs me down emotionally.  In a D/s relationship, or at least the type I am looking for, there are clear cut rules and protocols to follow.  This helps me stay focused on the relationship and communicate better with my Dominant.  It’s not all about the kink.  Yes, I love the kinky part of the BDSM but I separate that in my head and compartmentalize it.  My thoughts are the relationship isn’t all about sex or SM, and sex/SM doesn’t make the relationship.

I had the vanilla relationship and there was no clear cut role between the two of us.  This caused communication to break down and the relationship to follow.  There cannot be uncertainty as this creates a rift between the individuals.  I am a very communicative person.  I am not shy with my feelings, thoughts, or desires.  Some men, and even women, in the vanilla world are incapable of properly communicating or understanding why it is so important.  These types of people have a challenging time with comprehending my need to communicate and therefore it doesn’t work.

Communication is a two-way street.  I want to be able to exchange my thoughts and desires with my Dominant at an intellectual level and I want him to communicate right back with me.  Yes, I know men are from Mars and women are from Venus.  We have two completely different communication styles.  However, in this lifestyle emphasis is placed on communication to make healthy, long lasting relationships.  In the vanilla world, it’s almost as if communication is a secondary attribute and not as important for success.  Why is this?

Chivalry

This morning I read a blog that had a profound impact on me.  It discussed Chivalry and that many men, and women alike, find that chivalry is out of style.  Please take a moment and read it yourself:

http://themattwalshblog.com/2014/01/13/chivalry-is-out-of-style/

The article made a few good points about chivalry.  First, what is chivalry?  Well, chivalry provides a sort of code of conduct for gentlemanly behavior.  It’s a male code of conduct of sorts.  Of course this is no longer the medieval times and chivalry has had to evolve, but it still has an influence and basic tenants for male behavior toward women.

Today, chivalry is about certain ethical standards that foster the development of manhood which include truth, loyalty, courteousness to others, helping women, defenders of the weak, and supporters of justice.  It’s not just about pleasantries and being polite.  Chivalry is about knowing the man is stronger and understanding his strength and supporting role in society.

Authors Note:  I’m writing this article from the female perspective and not necessarily as a weak person that needs defended.

Just like the author wrote, chivalry is not about the subjugation of women or being dominant.  To subjugate women and be dominant just because you are physically able to do so is domineering, and that is not being honorable.  As much as every feminist wants to argue, women are not equal with men.  We are physically the weaker sex and mothers to the next generation. We, as women, are meant to be meek.  We should be humble, righteous, and patient.  It doesn’t necessarily mean be submissive to men, but we should respect the differences between our genders. 

Men should be using their strength to honor and protect women.  Being chivalrous shows women that they are not going to be hurt, but rather protected.  Both sides show humility and service to each other.  It’s a full circle between men and women being in service to one another.  Women service men in supportive roles and men service woman as their protectors and guardians in return.

These beliefs are taken for granted and lost in our generation.  Apathy has taken hold and men have become lazy and self-centered.  It’s no wonder this occurred since the feministic movement of our previous generations taught men that we should be treated as equals.  Both sides of the spectrum, men and women, have forgotten the values of chivalry and we have done a very poor job of passing down this belief system.  Parents no longer teach their boys what it means to be chivalrous and girls are taught to be equals among men.  We have fallen out of practice to be decent to one another and society is suffering

Ladies, when a man holds a door open for you or offers to carry your bags, he’s most likely trying to be humble and caring and showing valor.  He’s not always out to get into your skirt.  Men, practice chivalry whenever you can and be truthful, honorable participants in society.  Don’t be douchebags, but that also goes for women too.  It’s not that hard.  Feminism had an important role in the development of our society but it is now time to accept that we have taken it a little too far.  

Medication and Tattoos

Last Friday I saw my psychiatrist and told him that I would not be continuing Latuda.  The first issue is the side effects and the second is the cost.  With my insurance, the cost of this medication is still $150 for every three months.  I can only imagine what the prescription would cost without insurance or with an insurance provider that is not as good as my own.

How do the drug manufacturers get away with charging so much in the United States?  A person can easily cross over the Canadian border, or to many other countries, and purchase the same drugs for fractions less than what we pay in the US.  It makes me wonder if the US is subsidizing the cost of the drug for other countries.

Doc prescribed me Seraquel this time.  I started on 25mg at bedtime for a few days and then will increase to 50mg when I’m comfortable.  The first night I took the medication it knocked me out.  I didn’t want to wake up the next morning at all.  Interesting side effect for sure.  I like it.

I noticed the past few days the akathisia symptoms are gone and I’m not as restless as I was nor as manic.  I feel pretty good and happy so far.

Last week I decided that I’m getting a tattoo.  I’ve been thinking about a tattoo for a while and had it planned out but never actually got it because I just wasn’t sure it’s what I wanted.  I know better than to ink myself, especially the first time, and decide later that I don’t like the tattoo so I waited until I found something that I fell in love with.  Finally, I did. 

I decided to get a Gemini symbol on the top of my foot with the Star of David.  These two symbols are important to me as I am very much a Gemini and my faith is what guides me in my everyday life.  Sure, inking my body with a tattoo is a violation of Leviticus but my ears are already pierced.  I also believe that the commandment to not mark thy body was created during a time when Jews were trying to set themselves apart from Paganism.  Since Pagans often marked their bodies with tattoos and piercings, our Jewish Fathers used this as a way to separate the two cultures.  This philosophy is no longer needed in today’s day and age.

So as I started looking for designs, I then realized that if I get one why not get two?  So that’s what I did.  I not only got the Gemini and Star of David on my foot but I also got the Chai on the inside of my wrist.

I like solid, dark tattoos.  To me, it looks classy.  Since I have such a light skin tone, the artist used a dark purple.  As he tattooed my foot it hurt, especially over the boney area.  I wanted to cringe and scream out in pain but I knew I couldn’t move my foot.  The wrist wasn’t so bad.  It felt like I was getting stabbed several times with an IV needle.

All in all I’m glad I got them.