"Dressed Down And All Inked Up"

My husband and I went to a restaurant tonight to eat dinner. When we are out, on more occasions than not, we get stared at. I mean blatantly, and tonight was no exception.

We have gotten stared at by on duty police officers, elderly couples, small children, middle aged adults, and tonight we managed to get the attention of an entire baseball team.

The attention we draw when we go out is not because I'm some breathtaking beauty, not even close. The attention grabber is my husband. He will wear anything, and he will wear it anywhere. It makes not one bit of difference to him where he is going. If he wants to wear something ...he does.

This man once wore his pajama pants to a Longhorn restaurant and caused us to be seated so far in the back corner that it was like an isolation booth. He wears sleeveless t-shirts (self-altered) with quaint sayings like "Boot Hill Saloon, Daytona Beach, Across From The Cemetery."

He usually wears these shirts with Abercrombie cargo shorts, although he does have a pair of mint green polo shorts with pink flamingos on them that he opts to substitute now and then.

To complete such an ensemble, he chooses from an assortment of shoes that you would have to see to believe.

Among his shoe collection are a pair of navy blue Crocs, Ed Hardy tennis shoes, and plaid Sperry topsiders just to name a few.

Another thing that enhances my husbands look when he goes out, is the fact that he wears his hair as is. Meaning if he gets up and his hair is standing straight up like a toddler after a good nights sleep then that's okay with him.

I realize that the clothing and hair descriptions that I have just given you would be quite enough to get the attention of others, but believe it or not there is more to the attraction.

To add to his look, my husband has seven tattoos that are all exposed when he is dressed as I have described above. There is bob wire running around his arm, Japanese writing that says who knows what, a tombstone, a polo horse with rider, and God knows what all ...both arms..both legs...as one of our friends likes to put it..."He's all inked up".

When I married my husband he didn't have a single tattoo. He was a preppy clean cut guy with unmarked skin. Now when I roll over at night I am momentarily frightened that I've gotten into bed with a convict.

Now don't get me wrong, this man who wears these sleeveless shirts, shorts, crazy shoes, with wild hair and all the ink exposed knows how to dress. He can dress in very nice clothing, I know because I have seen it happen once or twice.

One time in particular that comes to mind is when I had to have a fairly major surgery done at Piedmont Hospital. I had just gotten back in my room from recovery, and I was on a morphine drip, so I was a bit unsure of what was going on around me.

That's when it happened. I looked up and saw him at the foot of my bed. I will never forget that moment, because it scared me to death. There he was in a pair of very nice dress pants, a white dress shirt and a tie.

I glanced down at his feet and he was wearing a pair of Bostonian loafers.....all I could think after I caught my breath was my God they've told him I'm going to die and he's decided he needs to look his best to go over to the funeral home and make the arrangements.

The one thing that really puzzles me about him is that when we get the stares and looks, he seems confused about it. I had to give him a brief synopses on what he looked like tonight when we were getting stared at, because I could tell that he was going to need clarification on what the problem might be.

Did he care? Not one bit. There is a part of me that thinks that degree of self-esteem must be a wonderful thing to have. I personally don't even come close to having that kind of self assured attitude.

He sits and has his dinner as if he never notices a thing, while I sit across from him feeling self conscious enough for both of us. I usually have on whatever I've worn to work and since my job is in a high school classroom, needless to say, I look a bit more conservative than he does, yet I'm the one that is bothered by the stares...

I will say that it is eye opening to see how quickly people judge others by their appearance...They are probably thinking that my husband is a criminal, who doesn't have a job, and could care less.

In reality,however, he is a Lieutenant with one of the largest police departments in the state of Georgia, and has been with them for over 25 years.

Changing my husband's idea about what constitutes proper attire for leaving the house is not a feat I'm ever going to accomplish. I have even gone as far as loading Z Z tops "Every girls crazy 'bout a sharped dressed man " song into the CD player in his vehicle...he was unaffected.

I just wish that every now and then he'd wear a dress shirt and tie......I love a man in a dress shirt and tie....I suppose I should be more realistic....okay...sleeves....could I get a shirt with sleeves?

"The Flip Side Of Nice"

I have had a pretty rough week. Nothing Earth shattering has gone on. It's just been a lot of little things that seem to have become overwhelming, and now I find myself wanting to sleep for about 3 days, when in reality I never sleep more than 3 to 4 hours at a time.

Not only have I had the type week where numerous things have happened that caused me to experience every emotion known to man, from frustration to tears, but I have been very vocal about it without thought.

This behavior is somewhat new for me, and can be dangerous, yet seems almost out of my control. I use to be so passive. I kept my mouth shut and did what everyone else expected or needed me to do to avoid any disagreement or conflict, as well as hurt feelings.

I was evidently overly nice, as I discovered one day when my husband and I were walking through Oakland Cemetery in Atlanta. He saw a headstone and said that's what I'm going to put on yours. It said "Went through life merrily doing good."

Well, as flattering as that is, I am afraid it didn't change the need I had for an individual revolt against being too nice.

These days I am so different. Not only can I feel it, but I have actually been told. One night, not long ago my sister in law looked at me and said "You use to be so nice". I will say this made me take pause, and it did bother me...for about a minute....and then I thought ...."Yeah well nice bites."

Nice gets you ran over and disrespected and neglected, if you allow it to go to far. The difference in me isn't that bad in my opinion. It's just that now when I feel like someone does or says something I don't appreciate I make them aware of it.....Immediately.

I suppose I put up with things for so long, that my speaking my mind now, freaks people out a little bit. I'm thinking..."they'll adjust".

I have even recently been called a "bitch". Funny thing is ...I didn't mind so much...as a matter of a fact I have decided that having a little "bitch edge" to my personality is a positive thing. Don't get me wrong, I still think I'm nice, and I take care of lots of people, but I am now demanding the respect and appreciation that I deserve for it. This goes for my personal and professional life.

Anyway, there's nothing attractive about some soft spoken door mat that's getting walked all over. I have, however, seen more than one man attracted to the "bitch factor".

I will say that being more vocal and letting people know what I'm thinking and feeling has been a wonderful thing. It feels so good in fact that I couldn't go back to the old me if I wanted to. I guess that doesn't matter, however, because I don't want to.

Everyone should have a flip side to nice. So maybe I'll hear the "Bitch" word in reference to my personality a few more times. Maybe it will be spoken behind my back even more frequently than I hear it.

If it means I'm living my life the way that I want to, with no unnecessary apologies, and doing the things I want to do, then fantastic! Call me a bitch. Have at it!

I'll just add an addendum to my prayers at night asking God not to let me get to drunk with power.........