Jasmine: Sunday

I wake up alone and miserable. It was day light savings time. I’d somehow lost an hour in my sleep. I remember wondering briefly where this hour may have gone and how it was possible to lose track of time. That’ll happen. I tried to go back to sleep, it was only nine/felt like eight. I was getting picked up late. I deserved to sleep. Orpheus, the god of sleep and neo didn’t think so. It was my birthday. Bastard should have cut me a little slack. No such luck.

I crawled out of bed unhappy, bleary eyed, and cold. It’s always cold in the mornings. I fixed myself some tea high to sugar before sitting in front of my computer. I do that a lot. The computer staring a bit. I should learn to mix it up a bit. Do some wall staring or books staring or even maybe close my eyes. But this morning I stared at the computer. For film I have to watch a movie I’ve seen a lot, so I chose the Bourne Supremacy.

Yep. Action. Yep.

I got ready. Rushed about. Tried to go to the honors building to print something but it was closed. Sunday happens to the best of things. By the time I was walking back my ride was here. The woman who birthed me who I sometimes call mom, her husband. One of the offspring they had together, another offspring that that woman had with another man, and a strange boy I’d never met before all waited for me in the car while I ran up to my room grabbed my shit and ran back.

It was my birthday and for the first time in years, perhaps the only time something like this has ever happened. I was spending it with my momish person.

We went to the flea market. Sort of spread out. Charlie, the husband, was pissed off at the world. My mom tends tod o that to people. All they have to do is be near her and they feel their good mood start to ooze from them. I’m immune. I got the good genes. I think my love of other peoples suffering, or at least my entertainment comes from her. More proof to the nature tops nurture theory. So he went off on his own. My brother Jacob and his strange friend went off on their own. My mom, My sister Amber, and I sort of wound our way through together.

My sister was looking for a belly button ring that apparently had dangly cherries. She’s twelve. Her belly button is pierced. Yep. She did find it by the way, but only after she’d begged her dad for the money for this other belly ring. It was heart shaped and had the word sexy on it. She’s twelve?

My brother found chopos, pronounced shopos, read slippers. I don’t know really. He has a fetish, and apparently a competition. I’m confused by it. But he bought some green chopos.

Mom bought socks…yep

I found knives and swords and ornate antique boxes. I also hadn’t brought any cash with me. I do that a lot. No cash no buy in the flea market. At least until I came across something I’d never really seen in person before. A bayonet piece for an m16 though Doug say’s it would fit on any of the m series, I have no idea I’m not really that big of a gun or knife buff. I see something I like I go oooh pretty I want it. I’ve only recently gotten some knowledge of the genre. Anyways it was beautiful. And I wanted it. I turned my pleading eyes towards my mother, I the fruit of her loins. She rolled her own eyes and handed me a twenty which I had to pay back at the end of the night. It was my birthday I deserved a knife. But if I wasn’t going to be given one I could definitely buy my own. Uhuh. Got to love the knives.

The flea market wasn’t really a planned outing for my birthday. It was mostly just a place to kill time before my appointment. Yes I was getting a sex change. Fail. No. I was getting my first tattoo.

My mother’s husband’s brother does tattoos. Yes I know how that sounds. Yes I was freaking nervous about going to someone who wasn’t actually a professional, and was well… family. family gives better prices, but generally isn’t the best option when you want something on you forever and ever. So I agreed to go but I wanted to see the work before I got the tat.

His name was Daniel Lucero. In case any of you want to look him up. He doesn’t have a parlor, he doesn’t have a job as far as I know. I think he lives off of his parents money still. Which is stupid. He’s in his thirty’s. he needs a job. And he’s actually a good artist. If you haven’t seen my tat check facebook. It makes me smile.

I got to his house and pulled out my laptop. The attempted printing had failed so I brought this. I told him what I wanted and sat on the couch with my family and his for half an hour. He has two sons and two daughters, one of which is just a baby and her name is jasmine. Jasmine and I pretty much bonded immediately. I have the feeling our names were involved somehow. But she was adorable. And all babies, cats, and men like my hair. It’s a thing. So we had a good time. Then she got hungry and my mom fed her. Apparently I’m not yet capable of that kind of baby… thing.

I took off my sweatshirt and he set to work. Yes I watched him unpackage the clean needle with my own eyes. My blood is safe from contagion. I’m not going to give any of you aids.

I expected it to hurt. It’s a tattoo. A needle driving in and out of my body leaving trails of ink behind in a hopefully beautiful pattern. And it’s not that it didn’t, it’s that it didn’t hurt as much as I expected it to. I’m not saying that yours wont should you get one. But people have a lot of meat on their shoulders and it didn’t hurt much. My brother was disappointed. He expected some kind of wincing action or at least a face. But no. I just sort of grinned at him and complained from hunger so they brought me tea and chips. What it did feel like was a sort of burning sensation, and it still sort of feels like a sunburn. A light sunburn.

It didn’t take him long. An hour tops. And he was done and everyone was staring at my back so I had them take a phone picture which a few of you have already seen. He smeared me with baby ointment of a kind and put some plastic wrap over my shoulder. I had my first raven.

In all I have four tattoos planned. The one I now have is a raven in flight on my right shoulder. The second one will be a raven at rest on my left shoulder. I also want a black jaguar on one of my ankles, and the poem Invictus on my back ending at the base of my spine. Out of the night that covers me… I am the captain of my soul. It’s amazing, it’s my favorite, it will happen, probably not for a few more years though.

The rest of the day is nonessential to my story. They fed me. I visited their home again. My tiny brother was there. I like him best. The most amazing, also high, kitty was there. Nitro, he’ll melt your heart and nuzzle your face. I want him or a kitty exactly like him. because he is perfect. Also probably stunted by pot… oh well.

Then in mass they took me back to my dorm. Maybe this time the interaction with my family will stick. Maybe not. Only time will tell. I have my first raven. Its name is Munin!