whatalaymedownthisis's Open Salon Blog

Tattoo Stories Part 1 of 10

Sat, 11 Jul 2009 02:07:18 -0400

Because I do not feel like cleaning and I've been having a hard time thinking of topics, I've decided to tell the stories behind my tattoos. Cliched I know.

Tattoo #1

Tattoo: Full colour sugar skull

Style: Americana/Old School

Location: Right inner forearm

Meaning : Memorial for my grandfather

Story: My grandfather died when I was nine years old. Two years after my parents and I moved to the US, one year after we moved to California. It was safe to say I was fairly miserable at that time. My grandfather and I had always been especially close, I was his favourite. I am my fathers only child and my father was the good son, the one who stayed close to home, the one who went to college, the one who didn't run away. My grandfather had a massive heart attack in 1997, when we living in Indiana. He was revived three times. They called it a widow maker, 75% of his heart was either damaged or destroyed. He lived.

The next summer, my mother and I went back to the Maritimes for a visit. For three weeks, it was like nothing had happened. I remember he asked me, "Are you happy in California?" and I said "Yes, Grampy". The day my mother and I left, my grandparents took us to the airport and saw us off. According to my grandmother, my grandfather turned to her after they had gotten us on the plane, said "Well, that's that, she's happy." Two days later he was in the hospital, in two weeks he was dead.

Since my grandfathers death I have remembered him in a number of ways. I remember turning his recliner into a fort and the way he smelled like smoke ( though he swore he didn't smoke, my grandmother found cartons of ciggarettes hidden in their house for five years after his death) The way he made brown sugar fudge. Occasionally, not often anymore, I remember his voice.

California in the summer

Wed, 8 Jul 2009 00:07:51 -0400

I do not fit in here. I am a redhead, I am pale almost to point of looking dead, I used to be fat and I am covered in tattoos. Another one of the deadly sins here in Southern California, I don't drive. Ever.

My roommate fits in. She is blond (usually), skinny, and has been at the pool of our apartment complex every sunny day since May, slathered in tanning oil. The boyfriend and I have a bet on as to when she'll develop skin cancer and how long it will take to notice it. But back to my not fitting in, people actually seem offended by how fair my skin is...like it's some personal attack on them. Maybe it is. Being so pale makes the colour in my tattoos pop, maybe that's what does it.

The not driving thing is another issue. It's a hard concept for a lot of people to grasp. My reasoning is this: I am easily distracted, do you really want me going 80 miles an hour in what is essentially a one ton battering ram. Do you really want me being you on the freeway on that? I also have a hard time timing things so I tend to drive like an old woman (Though this may have to do with the fact that when my ex tried to teach me to drive on the freeway, he had me pull onto it and said "If you fuck up, we die") Everyone asks me, "How do you live without driving?". It's simple really, I have always dated someone who drives and if you don't do something, how can you know what you're missing?

A snapshot

Thu, 2 Jul 2009 00:07:28 -0400

I can't write anymore. I get these ideas in my head and I think, "Ok, this is it. This is where you'll be able to say it all again." The words just aren't there

To my father

Sat, 20 Jun 2009 05:06:10 -0400

My father is a bit like god to me. I want to know that he's out there and I want him to approve of my life but I don't really ever call unless I am in trouble or need something.