If I Were Braver


I have been yammering on and on to my family and friends for years now – YEARS – about getting a tattoo. I want one. I really, really do. And I’m sure they’re really, really sick of hearing about how much I really, really want one. Cook or get out of the kitchen already, Myndi.

Here’s the deal, though. I’m a total chicken. Not so much when it comes to the inevitable pain (okay, well maybe I’m a little scared of the pain). Mostly, though, I’m scared of commitment. DeBeers wants you to think a diamond is forever. They’re screwing with you. Diamonds can be lost – Whoops! Down the toilet! Oh no! Dog ate it. Dang! Left it on the kitchen sink and it jumped down the garbage disposal. (Must have been a sad diamond.) But a tattoo? There’s no going back. Well, I mean there is, but it’s a long and painful process that I’ve heard basically feels like taking a cheese grater and blow-torch to your skin all at once.

So you get it, right? A tattoo is forever.

I’m not as big a commitment-phobe as I used to be. With a fourteen year-old marriage that’s still going strong, and four kids to-boot, I think I’ve come a long way from where I used to be. Younger Myndi was a mess. The idea of committing to anybody for the rest of forever freaked me the hell out. At one point the Hubster (before he was the Hubster) thought it would be funny to drop down on one knee and offer me a Ring-Pop as a joke. I never saw the Ring-Pop. I hyperventilated and passed out before he got that far.

Thankfully he took my idiosyncrasies in stride and asked me to marry him anyway.


I really would like to gather up the courage to get myself inked (is that a phrase? If I use that phrase when I go into a tattoo parlor will they laugh at me? And is ‘tattoo parlor’ the right terminology? Or does parlor only apply to those seedy-looking massage parlors that you just know offer happy endings for the right price? Ohmygosh. I’m getting all worked up and nervous, and I’m nowhere near a House of Ink (better than tattoo parlor right? Right?). My palms are all sweaty and I’m pretty sure I’m developing a case of sudden onset gastroenteritis).

*Breathe, Myndi. It’s not happening to you this second.*

According to this flow chart, me acquiring a tattoo wouldn’t end up being a total nightmare Oh-God-Why-Did-I-Do-That? debacle.


And according to this one, it really wouldn’t hurt that bad (at least not where I want to get one).


But are flow-charts found in the murky waters of Pinterest trustworthy? Do they have my best interest at heart? Or are they just cold graphics put together by folks who love to giggle at suburbanite housewives like me who daydream about sticking their toe over the line of their carefully manicured comfort-zone?

Geeze, Myndi, shut up already. You sound like an idiot.

What are your thoughts on tats? Success stories? Horror stories? Advice? I want to know what your thoughts are, even if you’re a grumpy bastard who thinks tattoos are an abomination to the Lord. *grin*



Autumn 2012

A couple years ago, when things were financially tight for our family (understatement? Um, yeah), I made the decision to sell my wedding ring. Not an easy decision to make, but easier than you might expect when you have a few kids and one on the way and all sorts of other circumstances that seem to lurk like giant monsters around dark corners ready to gobble you up like the world’s tastiest appetizer.

Selling my ring brought to light a couple of things:

*Diamonds, for a consumer looking to re-sell, are pretty much worthless. We pay a tremendous of cash (or borrow a tremendous amount of credit) for these gorgeous shiny rocks (that may or may not have been dug from the earth in humane environments) with the expectation that we can always get our money back out of them should we want to. *enter canned laughter here*

*Precious metals are more valuable than we’d thought.

We were lucky. We shopped around a little, and found a local jeweler who gave us a fair price for my ring. Nowhere near what we paid for it, but still, all things considered (including our somewhat desperate situation), we did pretty well. Was it hard to sell it, emotionally? You bet. Worth it? Absolutely? Do I miss the pretty thing my husband gave me on our wedding day? Immensely. But I’ve never regretted doing it, not for one second.

The Hubster and I have spent a lot of time talking and thinking about replacing my wedding ring. We were dang kids when we bought the first one, and pretty much dove in for the shiniest, sparkliest thing the jeweler could throw our way, price-tag be damned. This time, for our Wedding Ring Do-Over, we wanted to do things a little differently.

(1) I knew immediately that I didn’t want a natural diamond, regardless of whether or not it was humanely mined by an environmentally sound mining firm. Honestly, I’m not sure one exists other than maybe on paper. Lab created diamonds are ridiculously close to the real thing for a fraction of the cost, and frankly, after seeing what the re-sale value of diamonds are (not that I’m anticipating having to sell my next ring), I’m not interested in blowing a wad of cash on a rock that only has perceived value when it’s beneath the glass in a jewelry store.

(2) We both knew we wanted it to be special, and simple – preferably something T came up with himself.

(3) We would pay cash for the ring. Even though my previous ring had long since been paid off, it had still been a debt we were saddled with for a long time. Debt’s a bitch, people. I can’t stress that enough, and when I look at Wedding Ring #2, the last thing I want to think is Did we remember to send our payment in on time???

shrilugh ringSo here’s the long and short of it. Using Diamond Nexus Labs custom ring design, the Hubster designed this gorgeous ring for me. The band is a twig and a Shrilugh leaf (ohmysqueeeeee), with a single diamond. It’s GORGEOUS! Feel free to fill the comments with accolades over how fantastic a job he did designing it. But what’s really exciting, is Diamond Nexus has put the ring into their design contest. If we get enough votes, we’ll get my ring for FREE!!

I would totally be freaking out. FREAKING OUT, people.

Anyway, if you feel compelled, please head on over there, and vote for #23. It takes 30 seconds, max. If his design wins, I’ll be throwing a big-@$$ party here at Life Between The Pages, because OH MY GOSH, that would definitely be a thing to celebrate!!

Thanks a gazillion,


Thirteen Reasons Why

Thirteen years ago today the Hubster and I got ourselves hitched. 4,745 days later (give or take a few days providing for Leap Years) he’s still my favorite and my best, because:

(1) He knows that pestering me relentlessly is the only way to break me out of a bad mood.

(2) He lets me hog the bed, which I do with gusto.

(3) He stubbornly believes in my artistic ability.

(4) He’s the best dad on the planet.

(5) When asked what comes to mind when he hears the name “George W. Bush” the first thing he says is, “Will Ferrell”.

(6) His laugh is contagious.

(7) He’d rather spin vinyl and brew coffee the slow way than pull out an iPod and plug in the Keurig.

(8) He looks at the box and says, “Who’d want to think in that?”

(9) His convictions are long-pondered and firmly defended.

(10) He doesn’t expect his convictions to be my convictions.

(11) He loves me first and best.

(12) He doesn’t flip out when he catches me doing things like teaching the boys how to jump out of a moving van.

(13) He lives out ‘Love God, Love People’ every single day.

Happy Anniversary, T-Man!