God, Please Save These Troubled States

I can't even begin to express my excitement.

So, by some magical stroke of luck, I've been asked to get tattooed by one of the L.A. Ink gals. The gorgeous and EXTREMELY talented Kim Saigh will begin work on a leg sleeve (is it called a pant leg?) that I've wanted for a while.




I'm a huge fan of Kim (HAVE YOU SEEN HER WORK OMG) and I'm an even bigger fan of a tattoo shop being run by women. (The artist that's currently working on my Star Wars sleeve, Cindy @ Ink'd Chronicles in Pomona, is also a female). In an industry that seems to be dominated by men and that the general public wrongly thinks belongs on the bodies of men, it brings me great delight to see women leading the world of tattooing.

L.A. Ink's third season airs in October, but the shop is already gearing up for the next season and casting for tattoos is starting! They're looking for new and interesting ideas for tattoos; besides interesting art, L.A. Ink is looking for interesting stories to go along with it.

For example:
-I live a secret life!
-Giving your parents their first tattoo
-Gay pride tattoos
-Military supporters OR objectors
-Funny characters
-Political tattoos, such as pro-Obama imagery or political statements/protests

I mean, seriously, there are millions of possible reasons that you could want to get a tattoo and the show is looking for the best ones. If you want to appear on the show, go to www.lainkcasting.com and fill out an application. The more compelling and interesting stories will be more likely to be chosen!

So what am I getting? I've been a huge fan of the horror genre, both literature and cinema. I contemplated an H.P. Lovecraft piece or maybe something from The X Files, but I realized there was a single body of work that is most likely responsible for my obsession with all things scary: the work of Stephen Gammel.

Kim will be starting off a much larger piece dedicated to Gammell's work on the Scary Stories To Tell in the Dark triology; this image will be the first tattooed on me:



So you can look forward to video of the tattoo process, hear more of my story, and expect interview tidbits in the near future!

NOW NERD OUT WITH ME! OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG!!112!@!12

I'd like to say this has taken me over a week to complete because I'd spent so much time thinking of witty and insightful things to say. Truth is, I was terrified. I don't think I'm particularly ugly and it's actually been a long time since I've felt this good about my body. But I still haven't conquered my self-image problem that arose from my last year of high school and tormented me throughout college. I'm still overly conscious of my body and, while I've worked to correct that in the last two years, I'm not quite where I want to be.

But that's most of the reason I'm doing this: I want to accept who I am.

So here's my entry for the first category for Wendy's group, Beautiful Warts and All: My Physical Appearance.

My Face


I like my smile a lot. I think it looks sincere and I'd hate to look my smile was just a courtesy. I smile because I like to. My facial hair is incredible. All that stubble is less than 24 hours old. My body produces hair at a super human rate. This is great for the hair above my neck. Elsewhere, it's a nightmare, but I'll get to that later.

My Hair


Not much of it at all. I don't like long hair. (My hair is freakishly thick and curly when I grow it out.) So I cut my hair as often as possible. Sometimes I'll even shave it bald. Great thing is that when my hairline starts to recede in a few years, I'll already know that I rule without hair. Sweet! When I do have hair, it's nearly black and oily as hell. I could do without the oily part, but it's not that bad.

My Ears


No complaints at all, really. I take my plugs out daily, so the hole isn't as large as it should be. Which is a good thing. (I have my lobes currently stretched to 5/8" and I don't ever plan on getting anything larger.) My ears are proportional and don't stick out too much. I like them.

My Eyes


Yes, I have to shave in between my eyebrows. You don't know how badly my eyebrows would love to shake hands, thereby giving me a unibrow that would look like Wilfred Brimley's moustache. Sigh. I have thick eyebrows and I've come to embrace them. They're pretty eyes.

My eyes are actually brown, but unless you're really close and the light is shining directly in them, they appear to be jet black. I've always loved this. Apparently, this makes me look more emotional than most people. I'm ok with this. Plus, I've been told they're my best feature. Ok, I'll go with that!

My Nose


You know, I've never had a problem with my nose, mostly because I don't really pay attention to it. I like it. Great shape. I still have a few small scars when I had really horrific acne in high school. (I actually have scars all over my face, but my facial hair generally covers them.

I used to have my septum pierced for a couple years, but I kept getting cracked in the nose at shows and losing jewelry, so I gave up. Too painful. I've always wanted to pierce the side of my nose, though; either two small studs, one on either side, or a single ring on one side. Thoughts?

My Mouth


No complaints here either. I've had a moustache for over 5 years. I have no plans to get rid of it. I like my lips a lot: not too large, not thin and wiry either. I've had the snakebite piercings for..shit. 6 years? Maybe longer. I used to have three in a row, but I took out the one in the middle. I like just the two of them.

My Hands



I really dig my hands. I think they're shaped just how I like. Problem is, I wish whatever connects them to my brain worked better, because I am generally a fucking klutz. I drop things all the time. But that's a separate issue.

I have NO REGRET tattooed across my knuckles and straight edge Xs on both hands. I've gotten a lot of shit for that specific tattoo, mostly by people telling me I'm retarded for doing them. Thanks for the support! But there's no real possibility that I'll ever drink again and I'm proud of my sobriety. (7 years this November!) So eat it.

My Arms



Seriously, despite appearances, MY ARMS ARE NOT BUFF. Everyone seems to think I'm ripped, but holy lord. I am not. I have weak toothpick arms and little to no upper body strength. I'm ok with this, though. I've never really wanted muscular arms and I'm fine with my skinny twigs for limbs.

My arms are my most tattooed body parts. On my left arm, I've got the second half of Propagandhi lyrics on my wrist, another edge tattoo, my X Files tattoo, the final sentence from "The Stranger" on my forearm, and the Bad Religion "Against The Grain" logo on the opposite. After my Star Wars sleeve is finished, I'll be working on a Calvin and Hobbes half sleeve on my upper left arm.

My right arm is about 85% done right now and will extend from my armpit/shoulder down to my wrist. After my father passed away nearly two years ago, I realized it was time for my Star Wars sleeve. My fondest memories of my dad were sitting on the couch every weekend, running through those first three movies, reciting lines back and forth, cracking jokes, being scared at just the right times, and tearing up at the end. Every single time. I can't imagine a better piece to remind me of my dad. I miss him a lot.

My Midsection



This is the part that scared me the most. In fact, every one of these pictures was taken last week EXCEPT for these last two. I couldn't bring myself to do it just yet, but I realized that if I was going to do this project and do it correctly, I had to photograph my abdomen.

I ran Cross Country and Track in high school and because of such a rigorous schedule, I never weighed more than 145 until after I graduated. I was toned well and I didn't really have a problem walking around without my shirt on.

However, from graduation up until 2006 (4 years!), I did nothing but gain weight. In fact, I didn't even work out until two weeks after my dad died on August 31, 2006. I "blossomed" up to 235 pounds. I was a chubby guy and this worked a huge number on my self esteem. When I finally came out and began to date, I was so insecure about myself. Here were all these horrifically beautiful guys with six packs and muscles and pectorals and all that. And here I was, a pudgy straight edge kid with tattoos. It was bad enough that I was atheist, edge, vegan, and not into popular music. I figured I was doomed because my body was so "ugly."

So, as hard as it was to admit it, my dad's death was a wake up call. I joined a gym and I've spent the last two years shedding off all that weight and, with it, all that guilt, shame, and self hatred.

The lowest I got, which was right before my ex dumped me in January of 2007, was 160. That's right. I lost 75 pounds in about 4 months. I know that might be a tad unhealthy, but it's mostly because my metabolism appears to be dependent on cardiovascular exercise. I noticed immediately that if I ate better food and worked out for atleast 90 minutes a day, not only would I lose about 5 pounds a week, but I'd keep it off.

Right now, I weigh 175. I don't have a gym membership anymore because I still can't keep bumping into my ex at the gym. Suffice to say that I don't harbor many positive emotions or memories of him and I'd like to avoid that kind of negativity in my life. However, I started cycling last summer, so I have a guaranteed hour of exercise just commuting to and from work, so this is helping to keep off the weight.

But I won't lie. I want my six pack back. Perhaps this is a dumb goal and perhaps I should be content with who I am. I think I'm just too stubborn, though. I feel like I'd be giving up on myself if I stopped now, especially since I'm closer than I've been in years. Plus, I still have issues going shirtless, since I feel I have too much fat around my stomach. Bah. Someday! I'm working on it.

Oh, and one more thing: I detest my chest hair. I hate my body hair in general, especially since it's so thick and pervasive, but I don't dare and shave it off. It'll just grow back in a couple of days. Sigh.

My Legs



9 years of intense training for Cross Country and track have given me GIGANTIC quad muscles and huge calf muscles and you know what? I love 'em. (Please excuse the horrific tan on my leg; blame AIDS LifeCycle.) My legs do taper off at the ankles, so sometimes I think it looks funny. I have these massive upper legs and tiny ankles. Hilarious. Oh well. I wouldn't trade them. My only real complaint is that my thighs are so big that finding good underwear and jeans is SO GODDAMN HARD because I'm not really proportional. Again, though, I'm totally ok with this.

My Feet


Ah! My trusty feet. They do the job, and they do it well. 9 years of long distance running and a year of cycling and they've never really failed on me. Huzzah for my feet! I wish they weren't so sweaty though, but that's a general problem. I sweat a lot.

Conclusion

I really do like (most of) me. Three years ago, I don't know if I could have done this and been positive. I'm in a good place in my life. I feel motivated and I feel like my goals are within reach and not as impossible as they appeared back when I started working out in 2006.

I am beautiful. Warts (and body hair and overactive sweat glands) and all.

Taken from a post I made on another board....

There's really no way to describe the experience other than saying it was life-changing. And I know that term can be thrown around a lot and it should hold more weight than it's usually given. But this literally changed my life: How I view HIV and AIDS, how I view my own physical ability, how I view other people, and how I feel about the power of community.

Since it was my first time, everything about getting the ride set up the day before was unecessarily stressful; it didn't help I forgot half of my stuff and they messed up our tent assignments. However, once I began to roll out of Cow Palace on Sunday, June 1, I began to realize the full scope of what I was doing.

The first day was insane. Imagine huddling with thousands of other cyclists from every demographic imaginable: old, young, male, female, gay, straight, bi, Christian, atheist, poor, rich, newbies and veterans. And imagine that, before you've even completed a mile, there are hundreds of people lining the streets, cheering you on, crying, calling you a hero, telling you that you're actually making a difference in the world.

It's overwhelming, to say the least. That first day was such a clusterfuck of emotions: excitement, anticipation, terror, and elation. By the time things evened out (the first 10 miles were so packed, it was impossible to peak beyond 10mph) and the road began to drift quickly under my feet, we'd left South San Francisco and were heading to Half Moon Bay. It was 84 miles from our start location to our camp in Santa Cruz. The route saw us hugging lakes, dangling precariously on the edge of cliffs, and bombing through forests. In short: The route was mind-numbing in its beauty. Training in LA had some perks; once you get out of the city, there are a ton of quasi-open roads and long hills. But this was insane: Bike highways (that were numbered!!!!!), bike lanes, cars that passed you with a respectable distance, and hundreds of people along the route to keep you energized. I took advantage of all the rest stops to enjoy the area.

Of particular note was the hellish climb up Skyline Drive and Highway 35, and then bombing down a 7% grade with 20mph winds. Incredible. Most of the route was on the rolling hills of Highway 1 along the ocean. Gorgeous.