So that bad B-word that some people over 35 dread is creeping up on me… Okay, maybe it’s at the dead run stage. March 5th, 23 years ago a doctor slapped me….
No, I’m not over 35, but I might as well be. I’m not into PDA anymore (Public displays of affection, not the handheld device) and I see my boyfriend once a week. (more lately since I’ve been wasting all my gas to see him while he’s laid off for three weeks) When I see him, we sit on his couch and watch TV, or I read a book while he plays Guild Wars. I play Guild Wars too, but if I’m at his house I can’t, and when everyone plays as a group, they have been playing in places where I can’t join them. It’s the playground all over again.
I’m very bored with life, and nowhere near where I wanted to be at this age. I’m pretty ashamed of myself. I’ve been laid off from my job, live at home, have accumulated around $10,000 in debt, and have no qualifications to my name besides disorderly and artistic. I should be a tattoo artist. I have a funny story about tattoo artists, hang tight with me for my birthday rant. LOL
I always pictured myself finishing up college and moving to a real, substantial job with a real, substantial income and an apartment to call my own. I don’t want to depend on ANYONE.
Okay, I’m done depressing you and myself.
So Friday, I wake up and get a phone call from a friend wanting a ride. She wanted me to take her to Detroit to see a an ex of hers at the tattoo 
convention at the Renaissance Center. Okay no big deal, there is money involved.
<— Yeah, that big circle in the middle is effin confusing!!! and It’s seventy two floors.
The elevator can go from bottom to top in less than thirty seconds, I swear!
So we drive down there, and wander around the hotel for a few, then she sweet talks the guard at the door of the convention to let her in real quick to talk to her friend and get me some gas money. He actually lets her in and says she has ten minutes. For the sake of conversation we’ll call her Betty.
Betty wanders back out, and things are up in the air for a while. We wander some more, and there are pictures of me in a Saab involved… Meeshisense got a hold of them….
http://meeshisense.wordpress.com/2009/03/01/motor-city-tatt-convention-and-then-some/
I say fuck it and buy us passes to the convention, and we go in. We watch her friend tattoo a dirty old man for a while (in an endearing kind of way, not creepy kind of way). We wander and wander and Stelios spots us so we smile and giggle for him, like he likes his women. *rolls eyes*
A photographer for a magazine stops us and wants to take pics of Betty. We’re supposed to meet him at a specific time, so we kill a little more time then wander up there and wander in a circle looking for the right conference room. The Monet room.
After waiting almost an hour, and drawing swirlies that match the hotel carpet halfway up my arm, we’re admitted in and he gets everyone out to take topless pics of her chest pieces and such. I’m glad I was there cuz he was creepy.
I’ll spare you the random details in the middle, besides the fact that we never knew what floor we were on, and get to the awesome random parts.
Betty and I pet a blue mohawk, and the guy thinks I want to be “friends”. He drags me off and procedes to try to make out with me. I’m laughing at him the entire fucking time and he doesn’t understand why. I’m a very big girl right now, and he’s fawning over me like I’m some skinny little model thing. Gross.
Needless to say, I fend him off after he tries to caress my stomach roll and my love handles, and I disappear. The rest of the fucking night and early into the morning, I’m watching for his blue mohawk like it’s a sharks fin. Every time he got close by, I’d cling to the closest man in the room. Betty and a Suicide Girl model told me they’d scare him off with their bony elbows and protruding hip bones.
To shorten the story a little, we’ll fast forward some more, and I’ll just give you random highlights.
We piled into the elevator and Betty stripped while the a really hot tattoo artist took pics with “The Party Cam 9000″. He had bunny ears on, and pink hightops with cupcakes on the tongues.
Floor seventy came at us aweful fast, and then I proceded to hit sixteen buttons while the doors opened, cuz Betty was still mostly naked.
Betty pants-ed said artist in front of the elevators and he wasn’t wearing underwear. I was amused.
Drinks were overpriced, so bunny ears man brought a whole case of warm beer into the hotel bar with him, and people were tripping over it all night.
I was the only sober person in the entire hotel.
There was a pharmacy thing going on simultaniously, and one of the reps came over from that and got tattooed and hung out with me.
A photographer changed his name six times in conversation with me, and proclaimed himself a nurse. The pharmacist was then named Doctor Richardson (though he wasn’t a doctor of any sort) and they decided I was a dentist/porn star. I bent over and moaned very loudly at random points in conversation.
Bunny ears, model, Betty, Dr. Richardson, and myself all ended up in the ladies room. They all smoked cigarettes and a worker came in the bathroom but didn’t bat an eyelash… It was after three am and she was off duty.
The off duty woman had a purse with the biggest fucking zipper pull I’d ever seen in my life. I wanted to take them and make earrings out of them. I’m pretty sure there are pictures of them somewhere.
There is probably more I can’t think of at the moment, but this is a ridiculous post, and this dentist/porn star is sick of typing.
Peace out!
