Poems, photos, rants and raves that are all inevitably me in one form or another.
I feel that it’s tattoo time once again.
Now, what to get…
I was saying tonight how it’s difficult to explain my tattoos to people in a simple phrase—all of them possess in-depth explanations that often are too personal to share generally. Of course, there is the risk that one will think you to have a stupid tattoo, but explaining my own personal struggles and difficulties is not appropriate conversation for an acquaintance or a stranger.
Then this breached into the discussion of whether not it should be acceptable for someone to touch or ask about your tattoos. On the one hand, if it is visible, one could argue that the person intended for it to be seen and must deal with the consequences. On the other, no one “asks” for anything based on how they dress or how they wear their makeup (ex, the girl-in-short-skirt rape position). I tend to believe people should not be able to assume they can touch someone’s skin or ask them about the meaning, but I will be as nice as possible if and when someone asks me about my tattoos. It’s just that assuming that someone should explain their personal form of expression to you seems a little, I don’t know, weird.
I was talking to my GM at work today and he wants to receive a high score on this year’s audit to reach “gold” level or higher for the store (corporate ranks stores on their scores…”platinum,” “gold,” “silver,” etc), especially because on our practice audit we were JUST below gold. He said that uniform will have to be much more strictly enforced, which includes taking out most of my earrings.
On principle, I understand—I couldn’t have any facial piercings or visible plugs at Stone Flats OR the San Diego Panera(s), in addition to having my wrist tattoo covered. That’s why I LOVED Boulder, that it was such a relaxed atmosphere. And the thing is, I doubt any customers care—on the contrary, I’ve received compliments about my tattoo and piercings—but it’s a corporate rule and a corporate audit.
And I actually love working at this store despite all the corporate and occasional managerial bullshit; even if I wanted to go somewhere more lax I’d have to get hired somewhere else…which apparently is impossible, as I’ve found in my quest for a second job.
I guess what bothers me most is that I’ll lose my individuality. As someone, a former boss said, I think, “We don’t pay you to be an individual”—which is true—but working 40+ hours for Panera a week, I hardly have time nor care to put in the effort to put all my earrings in and take them out after/before work, which means it makes it that much more difficult to be me in my free time.
So the history between my boyfriend and I and his ex-girlfriend is a little complicated, lalalala, won’t get into that—but in summary, though we’ve never met (that is, she and I), I think it’s suffice to say that we do not qualify as each other’s favorite person, remotely.
After a few glasses of wine the other night, Boyfriend (affectionately referred to hereon as either “Boyfriend” or “D”) and I were talking about things that alcohol encourages you are, really, a good idea to talk about. He then informs me that when his ex learned of us being together, she was upset, and commenced in trashing my hair, stating that it signified someone who didn’t know what they wanted to do with their life, attention-craving, unfocused, etc. For those of you who have never seen my pictures, I have strawberry blonde-ish hair and about a quarter of it is purple (with a liiiitle pink streak). I would post a picture but I currently am sweaty and gross from working out so I will spare you. I was initially quite upset to learn of her words, but after giving it some consideration:
Yawn. Come up with something more original and less outdated to trash me about, please. While it is certainly true that there are professional guidelines that still hold true regarding one’s state of personal hygiene and dress, and when the time comes, I will address those concerns, I simply wish to convey myself in a unique way. Do I do this for attention? No. My tattoos, my many piercings, plugs and purple hair are all things that I find interesting or cool, and wish to express myself in that way. I don’t care if someone finds them tasteful or not. Perhaps I took most offense to the reported words because I don’t like anyone hating on me when I have done nothing to intentionally hurt them, but also because I am still in the process of figuring out my life right now, and maybe I feared that she was right. But, when it comes down to it, I feel that my options are quite expansive, and I look forward to the challenge of determining what it is I will do in a way that requires mental exertion and is financially responsible. D likes me in spite of or because of these things, and that’s great—though they do not define me in any way, shape or form, but merely add to the larger picture.
One of my least favorite things is when people attack me without even knowing me. Someone who knows nothing of my struggles, my work ethic, my intelligence, my ideas, and finds it worth their time to attack my hair of all things, is simply not worth the mental exertion. It may still sting, but ultimately, I still think I’m awesome, despite and because of my purple hair.