what do you want me to do, dress in drag and do the hula?

so. whist i was on my honeymoon, there was a (dare i say) phenominon that was occuring all around me. there were hundreds, hundreds of little girls that were running around with thier hair pulled into cute little up-dos, most in princess costumes and all covered in glitter. to say that i was jealous would be putting it mildly. i asked several women who had daughters gussied up, where thier girls had gone to get princessed and if they thought that a grown up could do it to. turns out that disney has a little 'ole spa geared specifically to little girls. it's called the Bibbiti Bobbiti Boutique. for the right price, your little princess could be transformed into her favorite princess. they can have thier hair, make up, nails, and wardrobe done. complete with fairy dust. how much did i want to do all that. so much. stupid toddlers and their stupid glitter. anyway... to say that i like dressing up in funny costumes and prancing around like a fool would be like saying that the pope kinda likes to pray and hang out with jesus people. the best thing about my job as an artist model is that i get to live out my desires to release my inner drag queen. in the past, i have been know to wear various mixing bowls as hats (a fine photo that my mom loves to show at any given time). every halloween, i try to outdo myself and i hate to wear the same costume more than once. i have been a fairy, a unicorn, the bride of frankenstine and a she devil. on stage, i have worn some great costumes. the bigger, shinier and elaborate... the better. i have even had a fab costume made for my art classes. below are just a few pictures of me in some of my favorite costumes

my buddy, wyllym, made this gorgouse marie anntoinette dress for me. the whole thing was built in branson, mo while i was cooling my heels in florida. it is so popular with the art students that for 3 weeks after premiring the dress, every professor asked me to wear it in thier classes. the wig is one that i bought on ebay.

this little gem was made for the Ringling College of Art and Design's fund raiser. the theme was television. so of course i had to go as the NBC peacock. it was a big hit with everyone. i made this one myself. the tail is a fan from a chines resturant that i spray painted and glittered up. i tied it to my sholders with a scarf that ran under my arms and up behind my head. gusts of wind were my enemy that night.

this was my costume for Cabaret. obviously. i loved doing this show. my dad hates this costume. i wonder why?

this was a halloween costume that i made for a costume contest that was being held my job. at the time, i worked for a lumber company from which i was fired. i went as a peacock. the tail was a pair of modified angel wings that i got from the party store. i then bought over 200 peacock feathers from ebay which i hand sewed to the wings. then i reinforced the feathers with hot glue. i sewed the blue spraklely fabric to a corset that i alread owned and wore a little blue dress underneath. i did my make up as if i were wearing a mask and covered myself in glitter. the costume cost me a little over $200 to make. i won a $25 gift certificate to wal-mart. and i was fired. oh well. this was my wonderful costume for Suessical. 60 pounds of feathers, sequins, and fabulousness. i played Mayzie La Bird and that costume was one of the coolest things i've ever worn.

diets can lick my lizard

so i have started a new diet. i really hate diets. diets are the single greatest threat to american decency and all that is pure on God's green creation. with that being said, i have started a new diet.

i have always been... how to put this delicately... a chunky monkey? "big boned"? reubenesque? my weight has always been an issue. i remember being teased as a child on the playground. but kids are dicks at any age and i really (honestly) don't remember what was said. i just remember that it happened. (like, i remember getting a black eye from walking in front of the swings but the details are all pretty hazy) anyway, as i got older and went through the cursed "puppy stage", my weight problems didn't get any better. now, i distinctly remember being teased by certain family members about how i looked and other "well meaning " family members giving me their two cents on how i should look. (note to anyone that is in a family-- if you have someone that is chunky in your family, believe me, they know that they have a weight problem. you reminding them and offering "help" is counterproductive and you are only making things worse. so just keep you flapping lips shut. just thought that you should know) one specific person in my family teased me in order to help me. it didn't, it just gave me a complex. but after a while i grew into myself and actually became kinda hot. well, i had big tata's anyway. then i went to college. it wasn't until my sophomore year of college that i really started packing on the pounds. i wasn't as active and yadda yadda yadda, by the time i graduated i had gained some poundage. then i was married to a guy. he was a real gem. he would remind me about how much weight i had gained since he'd met me and that if i didn't loose it that he would seek out a women that looked the way he thought that i should look and have sex with her. i divorced his ass. now i am married to a man that is a bit like mark darcy from bridget jones' diary. he likes me just as i am. he married a chunky monkey and is content with that. (don't get me wrong. it's not like i have my own gravitational pull or have to have a fork lift just to get up from the couch, i am just chunky. that's all.)

so. i decided to get the figure that i left back at college. not because i am vain. not because anyone asked me too. i just think that i should take care of myself for Himself, just as he will take care of himself for me. that and i don't like most of the clothes from Hefty's Hideaway. they are either too expensive, too awkward, or fugly as ass-ola. that and i want to look cute when i get pregnant. not like some behemoth waddling through the food court at the mall. don't pretend like you haven't seen them. i want to look pregnant. not just fat in a weird way.

i have been on that alli diet. yeah. i know. you have to be careful or you'll get the runs from hell, but so far so good. i am eating what i am supposed to and in the portions that i'm supposed to and i am really sticking to it. let me just tell you though... i am hungry. i just ate, but i am hungry and all i want to do is a face plant into a big 'ole chocolate cake and eat my out. 'cause i LOOOVE chocolate. almost anything chocolate. so that will be my achilles' heel -- the mighty chocolate. so the battle is on. i hope i win.

No Day But Today!

i wanted to take a moment to let everyone know that my blog will be out of commission for an undetermined amount of time. i have quit my job at the theatre and i don't have internet set up in my house yet. we have just been lazy and haven't set it up yet but we should have internet within the week so i should be back on track soon.

so. why, you may be asking, do you have the original Rent poster on this blog? what does that musical have to do with you quiting your job? everything, says i.

Rent is one of those every special shows that actually opened my sr year of high school. i immediately fell in love with it. i bought the soundtrack, the show book, the sheet music, a couple of t-shirts, some postcards and have spent more money on tickets to various performances than should be allowed. you see, jonathan larson (the brilliant mind behind the show) died of a heart aneurysm after the final dress rehearsal in his apartment. it was past midnight; technically, it was the day of the show. he would never see his baby open on the great white way. about that same time, my grandfather died of a heart aneurysm. i just simply felt connected to the show on a very personal level.

it was also a watershed moment in my development as an adult. i was raised in a very religious household. looking back i am very grateful to have been sheltered (in a way) and given the chance to remain a kid a little bit longer. i had great friends in my church and was generally safe from drugs, booze and sex. there is a time and place for all things and i firmly believe that is called college. but because i was so sheltered, i naively thought that the church was the be all, end all to any and everything. this show (and rocky horror show) opened my eyes to a totally different sort of people. people that i could identify with and felt more at home with. and i thank shows like rent that help people like me come out of their shell.

so anyway, i love rent. i have seen it enough times that i have lost track on how many time i have actually seen it. i have met and hung out with original cast members and have had the great good fortune to see them perform on stage in the show that changed broadway forever.

again, i hear you asking... "what does all this have to do with quitting your job?" hold your horses, i'm getting to that.

so rent is on tour again. and it is coming to the theatre that i work at (for now at least). as far as i can see, there have been no disclaimers on the show. this is the same theatre that will put a disclaimer that there is a strobe light used in a show but hasn't had any for rent. for you unenlightened few who are unfamiliar with Rent, it is the opera La Boheme set in late 90's new york city with lots of rock music. there is pretty explicit language from the get go and there are to gay couples. now, me, i don't care one jot about any of that. it's a fun musical and i cry most of the 2nd act and i love it. but for a elderly resort community that the average age is 65... weeelll, they kinda don't like stuff like that. so when i sell tickets to Rent, i ask, "are you familiar with the show?" if they say yes then i proceed, business as usual. but if they don't, i tell them that there is language, rock music and adult situations. if they want to know what the adult situations are, i say that there are homosexual relationships. that's all i say. usually the customer will proceed with the order or they will confess that the show doesn't sound like their cup of tea. so i try to sell them something else. 9 times out of 10, i get the customer to purchase something. well my supervisor overheard me giving the disclaimer to a customer (which i have been doing since the tickets went on sale in september) and went completely apeshit. she started shouting at me saying that i wasn't the morality police and that i had no right telling people that there was homosexuality in the show and that it isn't any of my business and all sorts of things. then she gets the rest of the box office involved and it turned into an attack on me. to be heard over my supervisor, i shouted "IF YOU DON'T LIKE WHAT I SAY, THEN TELL ME TO STOP. AND THEN DROP IT!" then i stormed out of the office slamming every door that was unfortunate to cross my path. i was so upset that night after work, that i spent most of the night in tears and made myself physically ill the next day. even now, more than a week after the event, i am really pissed.

all of that happened on a wednesday. the following monday, i wrote a resignation letter (while at work) and delivered it to my boss. she was very understanding in my desire to leave, although she is under the impression that i'm solely leaving because the ringling college is giving me more hours. i did tell her about the altercation in the box office and she (of course) sided with the supervisor. so all in all after all of this happened, today is my last day. and yes, i'll be taking on more hours at the school so there will be no worries as to my fiances. i just thought that y'all should know.

i love easter!

i was raised in the south by the baptist. so easter is more than bunnies, baskets, and beautiful, bountiful candy. Jesus was crucified and three days later rose from the dead to concur death and save the world from their sins for those who believe. thanks Jesus.

but running a very close second to Jesus would be the candy. i love the easter candy. believe it or not, i don't normally eat candy. i would rather eat a cake or a pie or ice cream or something like that. not candy. but when spring rolls around every year, i put down my cookie/cake/ice cream and take up the joy of the easter candy. my absolute favorite is peeps. i could eat peeps until i make my self sick and i usually do at least once a year. there is nothing more heart-wrenchingly wonderful than a mouthful of peeps. as of late, the novelty of the peeps has somewhat diminished due to the fact that now every holiday has its own peeps. at halloween there are pumpkin, ghost and cat peeps. at christmas there are peeps. forth of july has peeps. hell, even arbor day has flippin' peeps (ok i made that last one up, but you get the idea) i rarely eat this poser peeps. i am quite the peep purest and save myself for the shockingly bright chick and bunny peeps of easter. maybe it's the gooey processed marshmallow, maybe the colorful sugar coating, maybe the insane blood sugar spike that my body labors through like junkie. i don't know. i just know that i like them so there.

i also love marshmallow eggs. they come in a real styrofoam egg carton and are, again, processed marshmallow covered in really cheep chocolate. now, i admit it... normally, i am a big ol' snob when it comes to chocolate. i lived in london for chrissakes. i like godiva, and lindor balls and fine gourmet chocolates from specialty stores. but every easter the marshmallow egg's siren song leads me down the path of unrighteousness. as i write this i have actually eaten 7 marshmallow eggs which were given to me by my lovely friend, SoJess.

i don't like cadbury cream eggs. they get my hands sticky and sticky hands are well out! plus, it seems to me that they have shrunk in the last few years. i like reese's peanut butter eggs, despite the fact that i don't like peanut butter. chocolate easter bunnies are lost on me and i have yet to figure out their appeal but the chocolate crosses with the candy easter lilies are intriguing. i love love love the cadbury mini eggs and have frequently lost my dignity in my consumption of them.

so... all in all, i love easter and the Jesus and the egg painting and the children in outfits that make them look like cupcakes, but the candy is the best thing about spring (except for that whole Jesus dying for my sins. thanks Jesus), esp. the peeps. oh peeps, you naughty beasts you.

where's my soapbox? i got something to say!

i may sound like a hypocrite but i'm not. please let me explain. i love animals. i love animals more than people. i have been known to cry at zoos as i become moved by the beauty of the creatures that i see before me. but on the flip side, i own a antique fur coat and i eat meat. my dad and most of his family hunt deer, doves, fish, squirrel and most other woodland creatures. i see nothing wrong with any of this as my dad is allergic to everything in God's green goodness and needs to eat something. plus that coat that i have was inherited from a friend who, in turn, inherited it from his grandmother who was put in a home in florida. and as for my instance on being an omnivore, screw you, i like to eat meat.

but let me just as here and now that i cannot abide animal cruelty. i can and there is nothing more to say. you know, there are people out there that bawk at the jail sentences that animal beaters get. usually the offender gets a hefty stay in the poky for doing something to an animal. and i say good. and those that give the argument that, "well... that rapist/child molester/murderer got less time in jail that the leader of the dog fighting ring, and that's not fair." all i have to say to that is sorry, bub. them's the berries. human victims have the chance to get away (granted child victims and old people can't really get away and there are always exceptions to everything) but an animal doesn't really have a defence. especially a dog. dogs are very trusting and need to be in a pack even if their pack is abusive. and those ass-jacks that have the dog fights are... i have no words... they make me so goddamned angry i can barely see straight. pictured above is one of the dogs that was rescued from that monster michael vick. the dog is hector and is being fostered in san diego. apparently, he is healing well and finds joy in stealing underwear from the hamper and cuddle time with his foster mom. look at that face. that is one cute dog. if i ever see that michael vick... i swear, i would probably fly at him like a whirling dervish and try to scratch his eyes out.

i also like chickens. i want chickens. i think that it would be nice to have chickens so that i could have fresh eggs. yes, i know that you have to go get the eggs everyday and sometimes chickens are a pain in the ass to keep, but i like them and i want some. so don't get me started on cock fighting. there was a couple that had a bunch of roosters that they kept for their cockfighting ring that was held at the back of their property, which they claimed they kept for the eggs. i hope that they catch some infection from a scratch from one of the roosters and have to have their limbs amputated.

so there was this asshole golfer that was sentenced for hitting golf balls at a hawk and killed it. fucker. i want to just beat him about the head with his own golf clubs. the poor hawk was hit in the head and had blood coming out of its nose. i love birds of prey and have a healthy respect of them after working at a zoo that featured rescued birds of prey. they are noble, intelligent, beautiful, helpful and kinda funny. even vultures are cool. mortis was our vulture and he could do tricks. i thought that he was the bee's knees. so the thought of people purposely killing theses birds pisses me off.

now, let us move on to those poor cows that were being abused by that slaughterhouse. i'm not going to talk about slaughterhouses in general, just that one that was pushing the cows with the forklifts. i cried. poor cows. maybe we should push those workers around with a forklift. poor cows.

i could go on and on about how insane i think the marines are. i haven't met too many of people from that branch of our military that are actually normal. i know that there are normal marines but most of them are psycho's. with that said, who is that fucker that threw the puppy over the cliff and why wasn't he thrown over the cliff too? god, just because you can be a dick and carry a gun doesn't mean that you should. i don't want him protecting my freedom; i want to punch him in his ass face. i know that the military kinda likes that kind of heartlessness in its soldiers but come on. it's a puppy. and it was a cute puppy at that. god, i don't even know what to say. ass.

speaking of ass, pete dougherty is next one my tirade. that ass made a crack pipe for his kitten so he could have a drug buddy. then filmed it. i cried for days about that baby kitten. i want pete to die. and that is a very big thing for me to say. i don't normally wish death on another human but this man should just od to keep his filthy drug ways away from his cat. poor kitten.

i think that i am going to stop writing now because i am getting myself all worked up and i'm having trouble typing. i do what i can to help the animals. i have several rescue animals in my home. including my ex-racing greyhound, my parakeet, my 3-legged cat and my mouse. i tried to save another parakeet from a petland that i worked at for like 2 days before i quit, disgusted at the treatment of the animals. but the poor thing was too far gone. at least i tried. don't even get me started on petland. the only reason to shop there should be to save all the animals. you would be completely disgusted by their everyday practices. no deep cleaning, rinsing the stool and urine down the sink. sick animals nebulized in cages caked with dry stool. i could go on but i'm starting to get angry again.

just remember that animals, whether they are cute and fuzzy or slimy or scaley or spiney, are wonderful gifts and that they were here first. and, more than likely, they will be here after our asshole society is long gone.

Baby, you can drive my car

look at what i saw this weekend! so Himself and i were taking the dogs to the beach for some playtime (and because i think it's funny to watch the min pin try to figure out how the hermit crab works) and we saw a father riding on his jetski with is daughter. i noted it but no big deal, right. dad. kid. jetski. ok. so... as we are leaving we notice what the father did after they finished with the jetski. i walked over and asked if he needed any help. he said no. i asked if he wanted some rope to pull it out. he said no, unless it was really thick rope because tieline wouldn't be strong enough. i asked if i could take a picture. he said yeah, i suppose so. so i did. he said that he thought that he had it in drive but he really had it in reverse. no shit, really? is that how your suv ended up simi-submerged in the ocean? fool.

this is just one example of the idiots that we have behind the wheel here in florida. i know what you are thinking... "you think you have bad drivers? you should see the drivers we haver here in (insert random place here)" well, let me just counter that with... where do you think all those bad drivers go in the winter and to die. that would be florida, folks. all the aged and feeble grab their walkers or hoverrounds and tottle thier way south to take up residence in the land of swaying palm trees and conch fritters (yum!) maybe it is the salty sea air, maybe the golden sunlight warming thier cold bones, but for some crazy reason these dinosaurs wraped in human flesh actually think that they are young again. newsflash here, people. you're not. i'm sorry to be the one to pass on this tragic information, but let's call a spade a spade, shall we. you are old and that ain't changing. please for the love of all that pure and holy, please stop getting behind the wheel. you can't see. you can't hear. you can berely see over the dashboard. you drive too slow. you think that just because you fought in WW2 that the rules of the road don't apply to you. you are the scurge of the Florida Hwy System and you must be stopped. i have always said that there should be a manditory practical driving test for everyone over the age of twenty to be taken every 5 or 10 years. that way we can get some of these biohazards off the road. if you fail the test, then your licences is revocked for 6 weeks. then you get to try agian. if you fail again then you loose your licences for a full year. then you can try again. if you fail this last time, well you are SOL until the next 5 or 10 year mark. sure that would mean that there would have to be more people on staff at the dmv, but i bet the testing could be contracted out to one of those driving schools or something. all i'm saying is... i rarely feel safe on the road, and if you have ever ridden in a car with me you would know the gravity of what i say. i have actually become a better driver after watching the carnige that the ancient americans can dish out.

here are some helpful points to remember when out on the road.

1. it's called a blinker. it tells all those around you where you intend to go. it turns on and just as importantly... it turns off.

2. it's called a turning lane. it allows you to remove yourself from the flow of trafic to slow down and make a turn. please don't attempt to make a turn from the center lane of a three lane highway. not only is it dangerous but it is annoying.

3. if you can't see over the dashboard, don't drive. you better find yourself a Hoke, mrs daisy, 'cause you are cruzin' for a bruzin'.

4. the speed limit is posted. could you please drive a speed that is somewhere in the neighborhood of the speed limit. yes, i know that it is the limit and you have the right to drive as slow as you want, but your fellow drivers want to throw blunt objects at you when you hold us up because of your slow ass driving.

5. if you don't have anywhere to go, and let's face it... you're retired and in florida. where do you really have to be? please stay off the road during the exact hours of 6-9 am and 3-6 pm. these are the hours that people that have real jobs have to commute and you with your slow ass driving are getting in the way.

6. i am young and pride myself on the fact that i can muti-task. you are old and have either lost the ablity to multi-task or never cultivated the talent in the first place. don't you give me the stink eye because i am on my cell phone.

7. congratulations. you have worked all your life to finally own a sports car. how bout driving that beast like it's a sports car and not a land yatch.

8.green means go. red means stop. not the other way around.

9. the break is a lifesaver until you are breaking for every. god. damn. thing. the squirrel that is 200yards in front of you will probablly move and if it doesn't, hit it. it is a stupid squirrell and natural selection may be governing his fate. but when you see the mild mannored pedestrian, why do you insist on plowing on through. this also applies to bicycles and motorcycles. if you hit them, the police will arrest you for manslaughter.

10. i know that it is hard, it will be difficult for me when the time comes, but swallow your pride and admit when the gig is up and you need to stop driving. you will get more respect if you do.

tat2

Oh Lydia, oh Lydia, say, have you met Lydia?

Lydia The Tattooed Lady.

She has eyes that folks adore so,and a torso even more so.

Lydia, oh Lydia, that encyclo-pidia.

Oh Lydia The Queen of Tattoo.

On her back is The Battle of Waterloo.

Beside it, The Wreck of the Hesperus too.

And proudly above waves the red, white, and blue.

You can learn a lot from Lydia!

La-la-la...la-la-la.La-la-la...la-la-la.

She can give you a view of the world in tattoo if you step up and tell her where.

For a dime you can see Kankakee or Paree,

or Washington crossing The Delaware.

La-la-la...la-la-la. La-la-la...la-la-la.

Oh Lydia, oh Lydia, say, have you met Lydia?

Lydia The Tattooed Lady.

When her muscles start relaxin', up the hill comes Andrew Jackson.

Lydia, oh Lydia, oh have you met Lydia.

Oh Lydia The Champ of them all.

She once swept an Admiral clear off his feet.

The ships on her hips made his heart skip a beat.

And now the old boy's in command of the fleet,

for he went and married Lydia!

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i have tattoos. sure i do. why else would my name be tat2kitten. although, i don't have any tattoos of kittens at this point. i will never forget getting my first tattoo. i was going to school in grantham, lincs, england and i really wanted some ink. i went to so many tattoo parlors that they all started looking alike. i ended up drawing my own design (a thisle) and took it to the local tattoo artist. my roommate went with me and took pics the whole time. it is rather small and on my back right above my right butt cheek. i was 20. before i took the bus into town to get my first tattoo, i called my mom to get clearance, so to speak. i asked, "mama, what do you think of tattoos?" she responded, "well, it seems like everyone is getting one." well, that was all i needed to convince me. i bolted out of the door like horse from a burning stable. let me just tell you something here, pal. tattoos hurt. period. and anyone that says otherwise is a liar liar pants on fire. it hurts because you are stabbing your arm with a very fast needle with ink. so... it hurts. but it is adictive. really adictive.

my next tattoo came during my senior year of college. it is a good luck clover. very simple, cute. it is right above my left butt cheek. i woke up with the itch to get some more ink and went to where my roommate Bear got her newest (at the time) tattoo. it is a little bit bigger than the first tat but still small... to match the thisle. latter that year, i got a bellybutton ring but it got infected because i was allergic to the cleaning solution. i eventually took the damn thing out and now i have a faint scar on my tummy.

my next body modification came after i moved back to the states. i went to visit bear and her sister. we all went to a concert at billy bobs in fort worth. after the concert we stumbled over to the new tattoo parlor that was having a grand opening that night and i got my tongue peirced. i asked bear if it would hurt and she assured me that it wouldn't and that i would be just fine. and as the warm steel peirced my sensive flesh and the two huge tears rolled down my flushed cheeks, i locked eyes with bear and wimpered, "you lied." she laughed, the bitch. on the way home she did stop at taco bell and get me a cup of ice. damn, my tongue was swollen! the next day, i went home and the only thing that i could eat was a krispy kream donut, torn into small peices and shoved down the back of my throat. that was the best donut ever. eventually the swelling went down, and i accessorized my mouth with various peices of jewerly. but i swore that i would take my tongue ring out if i ever chipped a tooth. i like my teeth and i don't want them looking like shit. needless to say, after about a year and a half, i took out my tongue ring and have regretted it ever since.

after my ex-husband and i split up, i designed a new tattoo of a heart with wings. one side of the heart is designed like an angle, the other half is a devil. it is on my back left sholder. i got the line work done first then went back for the color. i feel like i got jipped because it came out rather plain but it still looks nice. i will more than likely get it spruced up at some time.

not long ago, i got a real grown up job in an office. i answered phones, coalated, handled payroll and generally looked busy while i was actually buy off of ebay. with my first grown up paycheck, i got a design of a broken heart that was patched and stiched up. again, this was one of my own designs. it came out perfect. exactly as i had pictured it. it is on my back right sholder. my new husband and i met at this grown up job and he thought that i was blowing him off by saying that i was going to be getting a tattoo that weekend he asked me out on a date. by the way... he neglected to tell me that his phone number was from a different area code so i neglected to give him my local area code. so when he called my phone and got a strange phone message, he again thought that i was blowing him off. silly man.

so the tattoo count is up to four at this time. but that is just not enough. and incedently, each tattoo is bigger than the last. i get the itch for ink again and design a trible heart of flame with 5 stars surrounding it. i got this one on my arm on good friday, last year. the same artist that did the patchwork heart, did the trible thing. and let me tell you something here. i guess because it is really huge, he wasn't able to do some of the faness that he did with the patchwork heart. i was kinda disappointed. don't get me wronge... all it needs is a touch up here or there. but the artist has gone out of business and skipped town. damn it. Himself said that he will get me a touch up at some point. i think that i will kick it up a notch and give it a bit of a japaness feel. that and i want a tongue peircing again.