Monday, September 25, 2006
Some things change...
We got another set of stop lights in town. Until recently there were two stoplights, now there are three. All three of them are in the Centro. And for the most part people obey them.
Some things don't...
Luis and I have been looking for our own place to live for a while now. We like Cynthia and Sergio, but having our own place to live in would improve things considerably. Unfortunately it’s difficult to rent a place here. Houses are either family owned or already rented out. Seems people don’t move around here much.
The other day I saw a “Se Renta” sign across the street from our shop. From the outside, the house looked small and nondescript. It was being worked on at the time, so we wandered in and asked the workers who owned the house. Luis knew who the owner was, and we wandered around the place to check it out.
There was a long entrance hall which opened up into a front room. There was a bank of windows that looked out into an open courtyard, which would bring in a lot of light – a rarity in the houses here. Off the courtyard there were two bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom, and another room with a bank of windows. At the back of the house there was the customary water tank, and extra space for storage. The entire house was freshly painted white and was in very good shape. Plus there was a small front room which opened onto the street, to be used as a storefront if we wanted. We could rent just the house or the house and the one room storefront. We had been talking about getting a showroom for our woodworking, so this was perfect.
In fact, the house was perfect. Small, but not too small, lots of light, half a block from our shop, right on a main street (so our showroom would be easily accessible), and clean.
I tried not to get too excited. The “se renta” sign had only been up for a few days, so I figured not too many people would have asked about it. And we had been excited about houses before only to have those hopes dashed. So I tried to remain neutral.
Luis called the number on the sign and we arranged to meet the owner at her house that evening at 5.30pm. The rest of the day we talked about the house and how the front shop would be perfect for our showroom. At 5.30 we went to the owners house. Luis rang the bell and an old man came to the door. Luis said we were here to look at the house, and he went back inside to find the owner.
When she came out, she and Luis spoke for a few minutes. Luis said that he was the brother of Cynthia and they had rented an apartment from her before. He enquired about the house. She said that she had already rented it. She said that someone had given her a deposit, which was allowing her to have work done on the house. But she kept the “se renta” sign up, just in case things didn’t work out with them. Luis thanked her for her time and we left.
Shit. Another house rented out from underneath us.
“She didn’t want to rent to us,” Luis said.
“What? I thought she said it was already rented out.”
“That was just an excuse. She just didn’t want to rent to us.”
“Why the hell not?”
“I don’t know.”
This baffled me. In the States someone may not want to rent to you, but they have the freedom to decide that privately. You fill out an application, go away, hope to hear from them that you have the apartment. Here it’s sort of first come first served. Sort of. Unless the renter doesn’t like you for some reason. Then they tell you some bullshit excuse just to get you to go away.
As the day wore on, Luis remembered that his brother Antonio had also rented from this woman. Antonio isn’t the most responsible person. He apparently had skipped out on some rent to this woman in the past. And he wasn’t completely sure how things had ended with the apartment he and Cynthia had rented fro her before – he had been living in the States and Cynthia was responsible for that apartment. She may have been late on rent too.
And Luis had had the genius idea to tell her who his family was.
Damn his family!
And damn this woman for not renting to us! I was really frustrated by her refusal to rent to us. I’m a responsible person! And the place was perfect for us! Damn, damn, damn!
I’ve been fairly level headed about this thing in the past. This was our fifth house we had looked at, and none of them had worked out. But this is the one that pushed me over the edge. I had kept my feelings inside for the previous losses. This time I ranted and raved. “OH COME ON!!!!!! What the hell? What do we have to do to rent a fucking house? AAAAARRRRRGH!"
All of this was in my head, btw.
Now I sway between cursing the woman as we drive by her house and trying to send out happy, loving, pro-renting vibes to her. But people here don't change their minds. It's a sign of weakness if you do. So I don't suspect my happy vibes will do anything.
Dang.
The other day I saw a “Se Renta” sign across the street from our shop. From the outside, the house looked small and nondescript. It was being worked on at the time, so we wandered in and asked the workers who owned the house. Luis knew who the owner was, and we wandered around the place to check it out.
There was a long entrance hall which opened up into a front room. There was a bank of windows that looked out into an open courtyard, which would bring in a lot of light – a rarity in the houses here. Off the courtyard there were two bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom, and another room with a bank of windows. At the back of the house there was the customary water tank, and extra space for storage. The entire house was freshly painted white and was in very good shape. Plus there was a small front room which opened onto the street, to be used as a storefront if we wanted. We could rent just the house or the house and the one room storefront. We had been talking about getting a showroom for our woodworking, so this was perfect.
In fact, the house was perfect. Small, but not too small, lots of light, half a block from our shop, right on a main street (so our showroom would be easily accessible), and clean.
I tried not to get too excited. The “se renta” sign had only been up for a few days, so I figured not too many people would have asked about it. And we had been excited about houses before only to have those hopes dashed. So I tried to remain neutral.
Luis called the number on the sign and we arranged to meet the owner at her house that evening at 5.30pm. The rest of the day we talked about the house and how the front shop would be perfect for our showroom. At 5.30 we went to the owners house. Luis rang the bell and an old man came to the door. Luis said we were here to look at the house, and he went back inside to find the owner.
When she came out, she and Luis spoke for a few minutes. Luis said that he was the brother of Cynthia and they had rented an apartment from her before. He enquired about the house. She said that she had already rented it. She said that someone had given her a deposit, which was allowing her to have work done on the house. But she kept the “se renta” sign up, just in case things didn’t work out with them. Luis thanked her for her time and we left.
Shit. Another house rented out from underneath us.
“She didn’t want to rent to us,” Luis said.
“What? I thought she said it was already rented out.”
“That was just an excuse. She just didn’t want to rent to us.”
“Why the hell not?”
“I don’t know.”
This baffled me. In the States someone may not want to rent to you, but they have the freedom to decide that privately. You fill out an application, go away, hope to hear from them that you have the apartment. Here it’s sort of first come first served. Sort of. Unless the renter doesn’t like you for some reason. Then they tell you some bullshit excuse just to get you to go away.
As the day wore on, Luis remembered that his brother Antonio had also rented from this woman. Antonio isn’t the most responsible person. He apparently had skipped out on some rent to this woman in the past. And he wasn’t completely sure how things had ended with the apartment he and Cynthia had rented fro her before – he had been living in the States and Cynthia was responsible for that apartment. She may have been late on rent too.
And Luis had had the genius idea to tell her who his family was.
Damn his family!
And damn this woman for not renting to us! I was really frustrated by her refusal to rent to us. I’m a responsible person! And the place was perfect for us! Damn, damn, damn!
I’ve been fairly level headed about this thing in the past. This was our fifth house we had looked at, and none of them had worked out. But this is the one that pushed me over the edge. I had kept my feelings inside for the previous losses. This time I ranted and raved. “OH COME ON!!!!!! What the hell? What do we have to do to rent a fucking house? AAAAARRRRRGH!"
All of this was in my head, btw.
Now I sway between cursing the woman as we drive by her house and trying to send out happy, loving, pro-renting vibes to her. But people here don't change their minds. It's a sign of weakness if you do. So I don't suspect my happy vibes will do anything.
Dang.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Kitty Update
So, in case you were wondering, my cats have a new home. My bestest male friend in Atlanta contacted me at the 11th hour and offered to house them. Love you Wade! So they are back in the South for now.
Monday, September 04, 2006
Blood and Ink
The weekend of September 2nd we went to the 12th Annual Guadalajara International Tattoo Convention. I have actually never been to a convention before, so I was looking forward to it. Since it was international, I figured there might actually be some English speaking people there, and I was not wrong.
Luis, Mario and I made the 2 hour drive up to the big city and tracked down the Salon Fiesta Bugambilias where the convention was being held. As we drove into a nearby parking lot, we were all visually bowled over by a tall, leggy, well-endowed blonde wearing very little, walking out of the lot. She was obviously going to the convention as she had a number of tattoos and the guys with her were also tattooed (I think they were. Honestly, it was difficult to see anything around this woman because she was so visually arresting). I started to say something about her appearance, but shut my mouth as I realized that she and her companions could very well understand English. Just because they were in Guadalajara didn't mean they spoke Spanish. (And, just because she was tall and very blonde didn't mean she was necessarily from the States - bleached hair is pretty common down here, and plenty of Mexicans are very light-skinned.)
Mario, who was driving, reeled his tongue back in and found a parking spot. We walked across the street and into my first convention....
It was the first day of the two-day convention and we were apparently pretty early, so there weren't that many people about. We started looking through the artists' books. Each tattoo artist (ones who have been tattooing for a while, that is) has a book of photos of their previous work. You flip through them, see if they have the style you want, and pretty much decide on who to use based on that. Well, that and price, unless money is no object to you.
Money is an issue for us, so we started to ask around about this particular tattoo Luis wanted. As we walked around the hall, we came across a tattoo crew from the States. It was the well-endowded female and her companions. We browsed their books and continued on. The woman wasn't the tattoo artist (although she does permanent cosmetic tattoo work), her two male companions were. And their work was exceptional. But we wanted to see what other people had to offer.
Besides, there is something odd for me about other Americans down here. On the one hand, I crave their presence. I live in a town where there are 2 other Americans - one retired man and one guy who we suspect is avoiding circumstances in the States. So Americans are a rare thing for me. On the other hand, when I do see them, I sort of want to avoid them. Why? I guess I don't want to do the stereotypical American thing and run to other Americans instead of interacting with the local people. Silly, I know. I think I also don't want to overwhelm the fellow Americans with my neediness to talk my native language. I think I tend to compensate for the time I can't speak English when I talk to other Americans. I just have so much to say about my life here and it is difficult for me to express it in Spanish. So when I come across Americans I have this overwhelming need to talk. I have to watch myself so I don't open the floodgates and drown the person I'm talking to.
But back to the convention. We got three quotes for Luis' tattoo, ranging from $2000 pesos to $4000 pesos. We discussed our options and decided to go with the lowest bidder.
Ok, I know: "You get what you pay for". And we should have known better since we both have a number of tattoos. Blahblahblah. But this particular artist had a really good book, nice work. We figured he was low on his price because he was from Mexico. (The artists from the States were generally higher priced.) What we failed to do was to ask if the book we were looking through belonged to the guy who was sitting behind the table. When we first got there, it was him and another guy who was selling tattooing equipment, so the logical assumption was that yes, this was his book. But you should always ask!!!
Turns out this guy was the tattoo intern or assistant. He had lots of problems just prepping the tattoo for Luis. When we went back for him to apply the pattern to Luis' back, suddenly there was another guy there. And our guy was asking this new guy lots of questions. Too many questions. Eventually we called it quits. We hadn't paid any money, so we were only out our time.
We walked around the hall again and came back to the Americans. They quoted Luis $4000 pesos. We scheduled with them for the next day.
-------
The next day we showed up late. Luis was having second thoughts about going all the way back to Guadalajara for this tattoo. He figured he could find someone local to do it for less money. Now, both of these things are out of character for Luis - he doesn't usually have second thoughts once he has made up his mind, and he rarely worries about money. At least he doesn't do those things outloud, although he might do them in the privacy of his own mind. But I convinced him that it was the right thing to do. We got a late start, but got to the hall before our tattoo guy gave up on us.
As Rich, our tattoo guy, started to outline Luis' tattoo, I could tell Luis was in a lot of pain. Mostly because he told me so. Now, outlining is usually the most painful part of a tattoo. I have no idea why. And the lower back is one of the more sensitive spots to get a tattoo. So I wasn't surprised at the pain Luis was feeling (this is a big full-back tattoo and Rich was working from the bottom up). But I was surprised at how much he was whining... I mean commenting on it. I chalked it up to men's lower tolerance for pain. But apparently Rich has a heavy hand, so Luis was in some level of pain the whole time. All 6 and a half hours. 8^) Poor guy. But as I told him, pain is temporary, a tattoo is forever.
When we first got to the hall, the girls from the day before weren't there. But they showed up after an hour or two. The tall blonde is Rich's wife Lorrie, and she was very cool. By her outward appearance, you could easily assume things about her personality. But you would be wrong. She has her own website: tattooedpinup.com which promotes her obvious good looks and her modelling career. The bio page there doesn't really do her justice, but then again, it is a marketing tool. For a more complimentary article on her, go here.
The other girl there was visiting Lorrie and Rich from New Zealand. She was also in the cosmetics industry, and her partner was a tattoo artist. Unfortunately, I didn't get her name.
While Luis was wallowing in pain, the three of us got to talking. They were interested in what life was like for me in Mexico. And I was very interested in talking to some American girls! It was a shock to hear from them their impressions of Mexico. I was reminded that they were visiting for a short amount of time - I live here. My experiences are so much different from theirs.
For a little while I felt like I had girlfriends here. It was wonderful.
The funny thing was watching the people walk by the table while we were there. Lorrie doesn't just show up to support her husband. She sells photos of herself, specifically this one. And if you like, you can have a photo of yourself with her.... for a price. If you are walking by and want to take her picture, that's free. She'll even smile for you. But for a polaroid of the two of you, it's $60 pesos. Rich commented that she had to charge or else everyone would be asking her for a photo all day.
But having Lorrie at your booth will get you some attention. And she knows it. She dresses for it. So people - ok, mostly guys - will walk by and do a double take. They will stop and stare. Some will pretend (or maybe they really were interested in the tattoo work) to look through the books. But they will steal looks at Lorrie as they flip the pages. It was fascinating to watch.
Before we got to talking, I had a lot of typical thoughts about Lorrie - she's probably too aware of her good looks and probably doesn't talk to "normal" humans like me, maybe she is a bimbo, she probably loves the attention and would break off a conversation if one of her admirers was around. Well, I was happily very wrong. While the three of us were talking, she pretty much ignored the people walking by and staring at her. If someone directly asked for her picture, she would oblige, but otherwise her attention was on the conversation. And she was so down to earth, it was refreshing.
When Rich finished Luis' tattoo, we exchanged emails and phone numbers. They even asked to have a photo taken with us. I was so excited to meet them and really do wish to cross paths with them some time in the future.
So if you are in the Salt Lake City, Utah area and need a tattoo or some permanent cosmetics, swing by The Big Deluxe Tattoo and ask for Rich or Lorrie.
Luis, Lorrie, Rich and Me
Luis tattoo immediately after Rich finished
Luis, Mario and I made the 2 hour drive up to the big city and tracked down the Salon Fiesta Bugambilias where the convention was being held. As we drove into a nearby parking lot, we were all visually bowled over by a tall, leggy, well-endowed blonde wearing very little, walking out of the lot. She was obviously going to the convention as she had a number of tattoos and the guys with her were also tattooed (I think they were. Honestly, it was difficult to see anything around this woman because she was so visually arresting). I started to say something about her appearance, but shut my mouth as I realized that she and her companions could very well understand English. Just because they were in Guadalajara didn't mean they spoke Spanish. (And, just because she was tall and very blonde didn't mean she was necessarily from the States - bleached hair is pretty common down here, and plenty of Mexicans are very light-skinned.)
Mario, who was driving, reeled his tongue back in and found a parking spot. We walked across the street and into my first convention....
It was the first day of the two-day convention and we were apparently pretty early, so there weren't that many people about. We started looking through the artists' books. Each tattoo artist (ones who have been tattooing for a while, that is) has a book of photos of their previous work. You flip through them, see if they have the style you want, and pretty much decide on who to use based on that. Well, that and price, unless money is no object to you.
Money is an issue for us, so we started to ask around about this particular tattoo Luis wanted. As we walked around the hall, we came across a tattoo crew from the States. It was the well-endowded female and her companions. We browsed their books and continued on. The woman wasn't the tattoo artist (although she does permanent cosmetic tattoo work), her two male companions were. And their work was exceptional. But we wanted to see what other people had to offer.
Besides, there is something odd for me about other Americans down here. On the one hand, I crave their presence. I live in a town where there are 2 other Americans - one retired man and one guy who we suspect is avoiding circumstances in the States. So Americans are a rare thing for me. On the other hand, when I do see them, I sort of want to avoid them. Why? I guess I don't want to do the stereotypical American thing and run to other Americans instead of interacting with the local people. Silly, I know. I think I also don't want to overwhelm the fellow Americans with my neediness to talk my native language. I think I tend to compensate for the time I can't speak English when I talk to other Americans. I just have so much to say about my life here and it is difficult for me to express it in Spanish. So when I come across Americans I have this overwhelming need to talk. I have to watch myself so I don't open the floodgates and drown the person I'm talking to.
But back to the convention. We got three quotes for Luis' tattoo, ranging from $2000 pesos to $4000 pesos. We discussed our options and decided to go with the lowest bidder.
Ok, I know: "You get what you pay for". And we should have known better since we both have a number of tattoos. Blahblahblah. But this particular artist had a really good book, nice work. We figured he was low on his price because he was from Mexico. (The artists from the States were generally higher priced.) What we failed to do was to ask if the book we were looking through belonged to the guy who was sitting behind the table. When we first got there, it was him and another guy who was selling tattooing equipment, so the logical assumption was that yes, this was his book. But you should always ask!!!
Turns out this guy was the tattoo intern or assistant. He had lots of problems just prepping the tattoo for Luis. When we went back for him to apply the pattern to Luis' back, suddenly there was another guy there. And our guy was asking this new guy lots of questions. Too many questions. Eventually we called it quits. We hadn't paid any money, so we were only out our time.
We walked around the hall again and came back to the Americans. They quoted Luis $4000 pesos. We scheduled with them for the next day.
-------
The next day we showed up late. Luis was having second thoughts about going all the way back to Guadalajara for this tattoo. He figured he could find someone local to do it for less money. Now, both of these things are out of character for Luis - he doesn't usually have second thoughts once he has made up his mind, and he rarely worries about money. At least he doesn't do those things outloud, although he might do them in the privacy of his own mind. But I convinced him that it was the right thing to do. We got a late start, but got to the hall before our tattoo guy gave up on us.
As Rich, our tattoo guy, started to outline Luis' tattoo, I could tell Luis was in a lot of pain. Mostly because he told me so. Now, outlining is usually the most painful part of a tattoo. I have no idea why. And the lower back is one of the more sensitive spots to get a tattoo. So I wasn't surprised at the pain Luis was feeling (this is a big full-back tattoo and Rich was working from the bottom up). But I was surprised at how much he was whining... I mean commenting on it. I chalked it up to men's lower tolerance for pain. But apparently Rich has a heavy hand, so Luis was in some level of pain the whole time. All 6 and a half hours. 8^) Poor guy. But as I told him, pain is temporary, a tattoo is forever.
When we first got to the hall, the girls from the day before weren't there. But they showed up after an hour or two. The tall blonde is Rich's wife Lorrie, and she was very cool. By her outward appearance, you could easily assume things about her personality. But you would be wrong. She has her own website: tattooedpinup.com which promotes her obvious good looks and her modelling career. The bio page there doesn't really do her justice, but then again, it is a marketing tool. For a more complimentary article on her, go here.
The other girl there was visiting Lorrie and Rich from New Zealand. She was also in the cosmetics industry, and her partner was a tattoo artist. Unfortunately, I didn't get her name.
While Luis was wallowing in pain, the three of us got to talking. They were interested in what life was like for me in Mexico. And I was very interested in talking to some American girls! It was a shock to hear from them their impressions of Mexico. I was reminded that they were visiting for a short amount of time - I live here. My experiences are so much different from theirs.
For a little while I felt like I had girlfriends here. It was wonderful.
The funny thing was watching the people walk by the table while we were there. Lorrie doesn't just show up to support her husband. She sells photos of herself, specifically this one. And if you like, you can have a photo of yourself with her.... for a price. If you are walking by and want to take her picture, that's free. She'll even smile for you. But for a polaroid of the two of you, it's $60 pesos. Rich commented that she had to charge or else everyone would be asking her for a photo all day.
But having Lorrie at your booth will get you some attention. And she knows it. She dresses for it. So people - ok, mostly guys - will walk by and do a double take. They will stop and stare. Some will pretend (or maybe they really were interested in the tattoo work) to look through the books. But they will steal looks at Lorrie as they flip the pages. It was fascinating to watch.
Before we got to talking, I had a lot of typical thoughts about Lorrie - she's probably too aware of her good looks and probably doesn't talk to "normal" humans like me, maybe she is a bimbo, she probably loves the attention and would break off a conversation if one of her admirers was around. Well, I was happily very wrong. While the three of us were talking, she pretty much ignored the people walking by and staring at her. If someone directly asked for her picture, she would oblige, but otherwise her attention was on the conversation. And she was so down to earth, it was refreshing.
When Rich finished Luis' tattoo, we exchanged emails and phone numbers. They even asked to have a photo taken with us. I was so excited to meet them and really do wish to cross paths with them some time in the future.
So if you are in the Salt Lake City, Utah area and need a tattoo or some permanent cosmetics, swing by The Big Deluxe Tattoo and ask for Rich or Lorrie.
Luis, Lorrie, Rich and Me
Luis tattoo immediately after Rich finished
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