“Hey slut bucket! Look what I did,” said Tara. “It hurt worse than the labor pains of all four of my kids COMBINED!”
Tara’s mom is an artist. She had one of her mother’s paintings transposed onto her back in the form of body art.
I think it’s beautiful.
So I said, “I think it’s beautiful, Ho Bag! I LOVE it!”
“I’m worried all my Mormon family members will judge me and think I’m heading down the road to destruction,” she said.
“Tara, sometimes you just get an ITCH and ya gotta scratch it!” I said. “Who CARES if they judge you. You know you’re a good person.”
“Yeah! I’m a good Mormon mommy. I go to church. I follow the rules. I just happen to like tatoos!”
“Well I think it’s AMAZING! I’m jealous. I want to get MY stupid tat covered with something spectacular too!” I said.
We discussed how angry we seem to make people just by EXISTING.
“I WISH I were all boring and not wild!” she said. “People always think I’m trying to shock them with what I do and say. I’m not trying to shock anyone! I’m SICK of people saying that! I’m just living my life here!!”
I couldn’t agree more.
“Ugh! I TOTALLY agree! It would be soooo much EASIER if I weren’t CRAZY! And I’m not even crazy! Everyone ELSE needs to step it UP! Did you know someone left a comment on my blog wondering if I’m BIPOLAR???” I laughed.
She laughed.
“DUDE! You PROBABLY ARE!”
“I know, right?! I’ve probably got ALL KINDS of issues!”
Tara and I find ourselves in an extreme minority of Mormon Mommies that like tatoos and say bad words. We are both artists in our own right and try as we might we cannot stop the flow.
We face the same discrimination. We inspire ANGER from some our Mormon peers. Anger just because we dare show our mildly disobedient mugs and laugh in the face of the inappropriate. Anger because we believe there are worse things a person can do than become a human canvas.
Why do you think people (strangers even) care so much what we do? I don’t get it.
Tara’s husband, who sat and laughed with us as he downed a vat of potato salad, just rolls his eyes at Tara’s antics. He can’t control her. She does what she pleases.
Tara is a hair GENIUS and an artist in her soul.
When I had money she used to put a grand worth of extensions in my hair every time I came to see her. Did you HEAR ME? That's $1000 worth of disposable hair extensions!!!! MMk? Mmmmk.
This time I said, “Girl, just trim it. I’m STRAPPED!”
She did our hair and then we had arts and crafts time. We put lockets together with fabulous trinkets inside.
We finished playing at 2am.
“K, hooker,” she said. “See you later.”
“Aight, tramp. See ya.” I said.
We refer to each other as “tramp” and “slut” because nothing could be further from the truth.
When she calls me Hooker and asks if I made a lot of cash in Vegas I feel all warm and fuzzy and giggly and loved. She gets me.
