…they’ll ruin us all. Which people? People who rent. I was in the apartment complex pool doing my early morning laps when Betty & Beryl – no, not their real names – they just look like a Betty & a Beryl – started whining about people who rent. Now, I haven’t rented in years. I prefer not to. Why? I hate paying rent. It’s dead money. But, I never had an opinion on people who paid rent. People are people until they piss me off and then I will deal with them accordingly.

But, according to Betty and Beryl, renters are the scum of the earth. How so? Well, apparently they all have tattoos and no one with a tatt can be trusted. I have seven tatts…clearly I am b-b-bad to the bone. According to them tattooed renters also drink alcohol out of glass bottles around the pool, swim before the regulation 7am and after 9pm and they smoke and yell and fornicate…okay, they didn’t say fornicate but tattooed renters are bound to be prolific fornicators. This morning one of these ladies asked me “is it you that plays the violin over in your section?” Yes, we’re all sectionalized in their minds. I just smiled and asked why they wanted to know? Let ‘em wonder who the violin playing probably tattooed, fornicating renter is. There is a trombone player across the street who likes to play the theme to Pink Panther over and over and bloody over but I have no idea who the mad violinist is. Anyway it appears the violinist is considered okay in their eyes. I suspect because it’s cultural and unlikely to be one of us tattooed fornicators.

Amarinda Jones
Penn Halligan
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Be daring...read an Amarinda book

…so I got my black rose tattoo today. I sat in my purple bra, cleavage busting forth and got my shoulder inked. I love the tattoo. Jason did a fabulous job with what half arsed info I gave him. I said I want this and that…maybe some swirly things and a kick arse rose and he made an excellent drawing of exactly what I wanted. I love it when people get you straight away – that you don’t have to pull out the sock puppets or do an interpretative dance for them to understand what you want. That’s so refreshing. Few people are so in tune with our own individual needs that it astounds me every time I meet someone simpatico. I was happy for him to take a picture of the tatt. He did an excellent job. Thank you Jason.

The gentlemen at tattoo parlour brought up something that had never occurred to me. As writers we always get pissed when an arsehole e-book pirate – no apologies – they are – takes one of our books – overriding legal copyright and illegally sells our product to make a profit for themselves. Utter wankers. What about tattoo designs? Think about the effort that goes into drawing these tattoos. I’m not talking about the old ‘mother’ and ‘anchor’ tattoos. There are people walking around with some amazing and beautiful tattoos on them. What if they take a photo of them and it ends up on the internet? What if a tattoo site offering cheap downloads pinches the design of a tattoo artist and on sells it for their own profit? It’s bloody wrong. Can a tattoo be copyrighted and policed? How hard would that be? What the hell is it with uninteresting, lazy, non-inventive, untalented people who believe they have the right to steal? Why exactly are these predators on the planet?

Tattoos – I love ‘em but think before you ink. You will have it forever.

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Be daring...read an Amarinda book

I swear fate or kismet or one of those little buggers has been slapping me in the head all week, making me look at my life and think. And worse than the whole thinking thing, something so alien to me has happened. I've been consumed with regret about something. I don’t believe in regrets normally because I believe you do what you are meant to do and there was never ever any other outcome you could have taken so worry? It’s all about synchronicity isn’t? Things happen for a reason so why moan if stuff doesn’t turn out the way you wanted it to? But this...oh man...I keep thinking I should have done something...why didn’t I read between the lines? What is the point of pride? Does it beat need and hunger? Basically I have come to the enlightened conclusion that destiny sucks and can’t be trusted.

Nah, there's no real, solid answer to any of this. If there was I would have drawn a line under what I am feeling and moved on without all this thinking crap going on. I don’t know. Maybe we're never meant to know the answer to some questions. Maybe we're meant to feel regret every so often to make us realize that there are some things that are more important to us then we ever realized could be. Jeez…life can be exhausting can’t it?

But…a less exhausting thing…I get my second tattoo today. I’m looking forward to it. Why? Having a tattoo is like a declaration of life and who you are and what you want. It ain’t got nothing to do with destiny.

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Be daring...read an Amarinda book

I went to the tattoo parlour and dropped my strides (jeans) and showed off my upper thigh for inspection of my two week old tatt. It's a health regulation thing they follow and I'm happy to do that and my fat white thigh is hardly going to scare them considering they have seen it before and they are no strangers to inking various body parts – some more scary than mine.

I'm also going to get another tatt. Yes, I always suspected I would get two. Now I know it's an easy, not painful - to me - process I'm going for a black rose with long twirly bits on my left shoulder. I’m sure ‘twirly bits’ is not the technical term but I handed Jason, the tattoo artist, a vague picture of what I wanted and then explained what I wanted to add to it and have changed. He’s a smart man. He understood straight away. I like tattoo artists. There is no bullshit with them.

Now, I’m not advocating anyone racing out to get a tatt. It's a big decision by virtue of the fact you will have it for life. You will see it everyday. You have to like it. You really have to think about it. At 45, I am the mistress of my own half-arsed destiny. I work on the principle it's my body and I can do whatever I like with it. I answer to no one - and in theory that's how it should be for everyone. However not everyone is as fortunate as I - but that goes back to the choices you make in life and what you do for yourself as opposed to what others require or expect of you.

I was talking to a colleague who said to me she was looking forward to her next tatt as it made her feel happy. Strangely enough, I do understand this. To me it's not so much happiness it's more of being in control of who you are and what you want without worrying what another soul will think about it. I like to think of it as “marking your territory” meaning everything you see is mine and makes me the person that I am and if you do not like that purely for who I am and what you see then move on for I do not need you.

I mentioned to my 75 year old father I was getting another tatt. He said "Get death before dishonour” apparently this was big when he was in Vietnam in the 1960’s. Hmmm...I don’t think so.

‘Want a tatt? Think about it. Research and ask lots of annoying questions - it is after all - for life.

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Be daring...read an Amarinda book

…I got the tattoo done. I have to say I was anticipating pain but I didn’t find the inking painful at all. No, I’m not into pain. I believe I just have a high tolerance level. This morning it’s a bit swollen and feels like a bad bruise.

A big thanks to the crew – especially Jason - at Chermside Tattoo. They were very professional, funny and interesting. They soon learned I was pretty, damned unshockable. The tatt ended up purple, green, pink and black and I love it.

Okay then…tattoo is off the check list of things to do….just now got to find me a vampire to sleep with…

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Be daring...read an Amarinda book

...men…strange species…one man particular up north who has the charm of a constipated Taipan (snake). He is apparently considered ‘direct’. I plan to be very frigging direct next time we speak. I will ‘direct’ his arse off. Warning Will Robinson.

…thighs…sore...exercise? What’s the point of it again? Muscles versus no pain. Hmmm…no pain is looking pretty good.

…won arm wrestling contest…challenge me? I think not.

…tattoo today…constant questions on am I “worried about the pain?” No, I have thought long and hard about this and to be honest I’m not a wuss who cracks up easily. I figure my thighs are so sore that a needle will be nothing. But seriously, a tatt is for life…unless you believe those who will tell you it can be removed by a potato peeler…fucking ouch…

…received a clipping from the newspaper – a Dear Editor letter basically stating anyone that has a tattoo will go to hell due to desecration and a bunch do other things to do with ink and flesh and righteousness…yawn…no biggie…I was bound there anyway.

…. thanks for the all the email requests but no, I will not be showing my tattooed thigh on the internet. I don’t want to scare people or put them off their food.

…ordered a copy of the Queensland Firefighters 2010 Calendar today….half naked men who are smiling and silent. What a beautiful, beautiful thing.

…speaking of beauty…its Friday in Oz…how I adore Fridays. Everything is possible on a Friday. Have a good one.

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Be daring...read an Amarinda book

Ida, my car, was making choked strangling please-piss-off-and-leave-me-alone-in-the-garage-as-I-am-not-well-today-and-I am-not-hauling-your-fat-arse-anywhere- sounds when I started her up. Well, too bad. I was late for work and I didn’t have time to deal with a hissy fit – but in saying that I did reverse out and leave the car running for a few moments while she dramatically choked and carried on like a pork chop (crazy person). On the 15 minute drive to work, lights on the dashboard were flashing constantly and I had the feeling that at any moment I would be Flintstoning the car. But I kept her moving and made it inside the parking lot just as the car died. I went inside and dumped my stuff and started to call the auto club to arrive and fix whatever boo-boo Ida had. I suspected it was the battery. Why? Am I a mechanical genius? No, it was the light the flashed the most.

As I was on hold, I mentioned casually to a male colleague that the car had conked out. He instantly started to tell me all the dire problems that could be happening to my car. It was this and that and they all would cost a fortune and I would probably have to have the car towed or a least leave it in the car park over night and that proper maintenance would have avoided this. My lips responded “Thank you – but I’m sure it’s just the battery” while my eyes said "bugger off you harbinger of doom.” I love men – they’re fascinating but sometimes they can be so negative and it’s not something you want to hear when you are mechanically challenged is it? And this is why I pay professionals to fix things and not deal with amateur theatricals.

Anyway the car club person came out and said "it’s the battery.” The harbinger of doom came out to hear the pronouncement and he just shook his head and walked away mumbling something about the ‘alternator’ and ‘this is only the start of your problems.’ Naturally, as with all spontaneous problems, I had no money on me so once more the credit card got a few more racing stripes on it…you have to love plastic.

The afternoon…

I went grocery shopping – yes, quel excitement but it was interesting because the guy on the checkout was covered in tatts. This is unusual as you rarely see a corporate money making giant with tattooed staff on display. They seem to hide them in the background. Anyway, me, being me, had to ask about the tatts as all things tattoo interest me at the moment. He had some beauties and my groceries were forgotten as he told me about each one…no, I did not get to see the ones on his thighs (probably against corporate policy to drop your strides) but the ones on his forearms and wrists were pretty specky (spectacular). They were all horror with screaming mouths, eyes in pain and blood dripping everywhere - kind of weird as he was such an amiable, soft spoken guy. I asked why the horror theme and he said ‘it’s just where I am in this moment of my life.’ Interesting. And yes, he confirmed that tatts do sting when being inked but even worst the next couple of days but the pain ‘was worth it to mark where I am in my life.’ Quite fascinating. I am just thinking now how I can use my grocery receipt as tax deduction due to my tattoo research for my books….

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Go Ahead : Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?

Would I get a tattoo? No. Why not? It wouldn’t suit me – some people, in my opinion, look dumb with tatts. Me – a short, chunky, pasty looking woman with a tatt? Hmmm, no. I would look better with Spock ears than with a tatt. No, not thinking of committing myself to those either, at this stage. Beside I think forcing ink into your skin is not natural. I mean I always get pissed when I get ink on my hands at work. It would piss me off no end to be forever inked. I have also discovered I am quite a sexist in the fact that I think men look great with tatts whereas I don’t think a lot of women do. Mmmm, men with tatts….but I digress…why have I come to these lofty conclusions? Well when I was away down in Melbourne I watched this show called – LA Ink – never watch TV at home - it was all about tattoo artists. I found it utterly fascinating and I went from thinking tattoos were some weird arsed form of rebellion to tatts having great meaning in someone’s life. See? Travel does broaden ones horizons and room service is golden.

Well duh, you say – everyone knows that about room service and as for tatts - yes traditionally ancient cultures have always used tattooing as a form of spiritual and familial identification. They defined a person or people as one. But I guess I always viewed tatts as a need to rebel and to stand out – to be different – and there’s nothing wrong with that but why ruin your skin because let’s face it a tattoo is for life. Yes, you can have them lasered off but your skin never looks that same. So, back to the show – I became quite interested in the reasons people were having tatts done. It was all about ‘the place’ they were in life. They wanted to mark that, celebrate it or just remember what it took to get them where they were. That had never really occurred to me – yes, I am as sensitive as a sledgehammer. Anyway I listened to these stories and realized each tattoo had a purpose and that these people needed them to move on in life. It was most interesting – not enough for me to get a tatt – it is ‘literally’ wearing your heart on your sleeve and I don’t do that.

And the tattoo artists – my god – how talented are they? They turn a sketch on a paper into the most amazing three dimensional pieces of artwork. Just incredible and any half arsed stereotypical ideas I had about tatts were blown out the window. Women with tatts – still not sure about that but then it’s got nothing to do with me and it’s about the individual and what the image on their skin means to them – I applaud that. It’s quiet courageous putting your thoughts out there for everyone to see.

Check the show out here - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c08auIRzI74

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Go Ahead : Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?

And if you love him
Oh, be proud of him
Cause after all he's just a man
Stand by your man
Give him two arms to cling to
And something warm to come to
when nights are cold and lonely

Stand by Your Man

I drove to work singing Tammy Wynette songs - primarily - Stand By Your Man - at the top of my lungs. I am an appalling singer but that does not stop me. All week I have been singing along to Pink’s 'get-out-of-my-face-attitude-songs' because it has been a week like that. But today is Friday and it requires more dramatic loud to hell-with-everything-primarily-work songs. I think you'll agree Tammy had some dramatic songs. Dusty Springfield was good at that too. They're farewell, I'll-get-by-without-you-and-the-dog-just-leave-me-the-gin songs. Okay maybe not appropriate for some people but I like my Fridays dramatic because it's the start of the weekend and everything is possible.

I walked into work this morning and people were selling fund raising chocolates. Now I have never been able to walk past a chocolate in my life. It’s a genetic disorder which I have no intention of getting counseling for. I believe the eating of fund raising chockies to be a noble thing to do because the money is going to a good cause and therefore there is no fat transference to the eater of said charity chockie.

“When women are depressed, they eat or go shopping. Men invade another country. It's a whole different way of thinking.”--Elayne Boosler quotes

So, as per the usual work day, best friend Ethel emailed me from her work place across town. Basically she said “Lucy”- only she calls me that and its started as a code when we were in trouble and it stuck. “Lucy, all men suck and are guided purely by their penises and how can you possibly write about romance when all men are stupid?” Okay then...sounds like her husband…er…Fred…is going to have a tense evening. I personally do not believe all men suck - yes, some do, others blow, while the rest are okay. They're just a different species to women and sometimes it's hard to remember that isn’t it? As for writing romance - well, the very essence of romance is that the male is not sucky. I tend to avoid the hero coming across like that. Oh sure, he'll make mistakes and come across as an all knowing pain in the bum but he's loveable in that charming, incorrigible way. I believe that's what people want to read - real but flawed characters who eventually get their acts together and admit they love each other. As for these sucky men at Ethel’s workplace with their penises that seem to be annoying her...what can I say? Don’t look. Don’t touch and try to avoid said suckiness. If men suck = annoy - what do they do that annoys you the most? You can tell me – no men read this blog.

Quirky is sexy, like scars or chipped teeth. I also like tattoos - they're rebellious.”
Jennifer Aniston

I have this fascination with tattoos at the moment. I saw this guy today with the most amazing tatt. He let me have a closer look at it. He was very proud of it and it was a beauty. I won’t say where it was or what it looked like as I plan to write it into a book. Anyway, I was never a big fan of tattoos until recently when I wrote Last Man Standing. And, to be honest I really only think they look good on men. There is something that seems so masculine about them. I used to have this neighbor who was a Maori. He had a tattoo that covered his face as per his tradition. His wife told me it frightened a lot of people. I found it quite fascinating. Anyway I expect I'll snap out of that whole tatt phase soon or maybe not…I quite like men with an earring too…

Sexy as socks on a rooster” -- unknown

Want to get people’s attention? Wear bright yellow socks. I had them on today with my Doc Marten Mary Janes and people seem to be riveted by the black and yellow striped socks. I like striped socks. I have quite a collection. But I have found people often stare at them as you cross you legs and your pants leg rises up. To be honest I don’t stare at people’s socks. What's the fascination? Can someone tell me please...or alternatively what do you find yourself staring at and you can’t help yourself?

There's a new medical crisis. Doctors are reporting that many men are having allergic reactions to latex condoms. They say they cause severe swelling. So what's the problem?” -- Phyllis Diller

I always go for a walk in my lunch hour just to get out of the office environment. I can’t stand walking from my desk to the lunchroom and then back to my desk. My arse in big enough without adding the extra sitting into the equation. Anyway I was walking along and I came across an unopened pack of condoms – obviously fallen out of a pocket. Boy, someone is probably missing those. It always amuses me the brand name on condoms. Mt Olympus, Apollo, Humongous - ok, I may have made that last one up. But they are always big, beefy, powerful names. These were 'Trojans'. Yes, to be a Trojan is in theory to be strong and enduring -a nice image for any man. However I always think of Trojans allowing the Greeks into Troy in the wooden horse and what a mistake that was. Hmmm…not sure I could take a man with Trojan condoms seriously but when in Rome…or Troy....

"If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun."-- Katharine Hepburn

Oh dear…I caused an 'incident' today. I was trying to look at someone’s blog at work and a big red warning sign came up telling me I was naughty and the incident was recorded and something about death and destruction would descend upon me. Excellent…I have always said you cannot have too much death and destruction on a Friday arvo. Anyway, soon someone came out and pointed out the error of my ways. I nodded and tried to look appropriately sorry even thought I was contemplating what to eat for dinner at the same time they were warning me. So, apparently it is now on record that I am bad to the bone. Naturally I am terribly worried - not about the record thing - but I can't decide what to have for dinner...

Please take a squiz at Anny’s blog - she is always most enlightening. Then have a look at Kelly’s to get your perkiness quota filled.

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Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?