Trailer park fight became a poopy situation

Once again I found myself strolling through tons of news articles looking for one that was unusual and just right for my blog. I came across an article about two trailer park residents who are suing each other. According to the article, trailer park resident and tattoo artist Ryan Fitzjerald is being sued for $100,000.00 by his ex-girlfriend, Rossie Broven, who had originally attempted to have him charged with assault but was unable to do so because she signed a consent form prior to having the art work done. She claims that he had disregarded her request that he tattoo a scene from the movie Narnia, and instead had tattooed a picture of a pile of feces with flies buzzing around it. When I first read this article , I thought to myself that the ex-girlfriend got exactly what she deserved, but on further reflection, I redirected my negative energy toward the tattoo artist.

Now, I have two tattoos of my own. I have a deep appreciation for tattoos. I enjoy getting them. I think that when they are done correctly, tattoos can be beautiful pieces of artwork. However, because tattoos are forever, one has to have complete faith and trust in the tattoo artist.

According the article, Fitzjerald had found out that his girlfriend had cheated on him with an old friend. Broven states in her complaint that Fitzjerald had tricked her by getting her drunk of a bottle of cheap whine and tequila shots and then gotten her to sign the consent form. My first thought was that she should have known better than to get drunk with an ex-boyfriend. I don’t care how much alcohol I have in me, I certainly wouldn’t let my ex-boyfriend tattoo on me, even if he knew how.

I found it horribly disappointing that this tattoo artist had violated that trust. To me, it doesn’t matter if she cheated on him or not. He should have used his professionalism and not agreed to give her a tattoo when she was drunk or when he was having anger issues with her infidelity. As I said, tattoos are forever, and she has been marked for life, or until she goes through the pain and expense of having her tattoo removed or covered. Hence, the lawsuit for $100,000.00.

Tattoo artists already have to go against predisposed stereotypes and this guy does not help. If I had found out that my tattoo artist took out his revenge on his ex-girlfriends by marking her for life with a damning tattoo, I wouldn’t go to him. It would make me wonder what he would do to me if I angered him. I believe what he did was a shameful act and I hope the court awards the ex-girlfriend.

Save the Fairy!

InSt. Charles, Missouri residents and business owners are banding together to save a fairy’s job. Since it is the Christmas season and I enjoy off beat articles, when I found this article, I was pleased with the human outcry to “Save The Fairy.”

As you probably already know, one of the most known ballets is Peter Tchaikovsky's famous Nutcracker Suite. This wonderful ballet is usually preformed during the holiday season. One of the characters and one of the most sought-after roles is that of the beautiful Sugar Plum Fairy who welcomes young Clara to the Kingdom of Sweets and dances the famous "Dance Of The Sugar Plum Fairy." 

According to the article, Laura Coppinger, who made this role "larger than life," had played the Sugar Plum Fairy for five years before she was fired for violation of her professional code of conduct. Apparently, Coppinger had uttered a curse word when she accidentally flushed the toilet after a drug test that was required for her job. Before she was able to retake the test, she was informed that she had been fired for cursing. As word spread about the termination, a movement grew to “Save the Sugar Plum Fairy.” A Facebook page was started and hundreds of people have clicked on the "Like" button in order to show their support.  A like-minded group has also decided to take this issue to the St. Charles City Hall.

 

The article led the reader to assume that she was dedicated to her job. She never denied saying a curse word out of frustration with herself and she is willing to apologize for cursing. This shows integrity and character.  I can’t believe that the public official who was performing the drug test was hateful turn Copinger in for violating the “Christmas traditions code of conduct” which states that “Christmas characters don’t know naughty words”. Now, I am pretty sure that Copinger wasn’t in character when she was taking the drug test. If she curses in the privacy of her home, is she still in violation?  

 

Unfortunately, it was wise of the officials who oversee the Christmas Traditions hiring to state that “they’re unable to comment about personnel matters.” If they had commented on it. Coppinger would be able to have a case on her hands. If the city officials had stated anything, then this would probably have been a privacy issue and Coppinger would have been able to sue the city for violating her privacy.  

 

As it is, Coppinger is very grateful for all the support that she has received and would like the city to reverse their decision. It is hard to find a job right now and I hope they do rehire her.

Non traditional student non traditional Thanksgiving

Judging from the articles that I have read about “normal” Thanksgiving dinners, my family's Thankgiving dinners are very unusual. I have been very lucky so far, because my kids get along, so they usually don’t fight, not even on non-holidays, and none of us are big drinkers.  In fact, the only time that my family gets rowdy is when my kids drink too much soda and get hyper, which means that nobody is screaming and fighting with each other and airing long-dormant grievances.  

We have small and relatively quiet family gatherings that consist of my mother, my sister, my husband, my two kids and me.  I don’t have a grandmother in town who comes and pinches anyone’s cheeks, and thank goodness for that too. I wouldn’t know what to do if some crazed elderly lady came at my children trying to rip their cheeks off.  Everybody else who is genetically-connected to me lives in New Jersey, Mississippi and Florida, and they don't come out to Missouri to visit, which is a good thing because, between my mom’s house and mine, we have a limited amount of space  and it’s bad manners to put your family up in a hotel. Because of this lack of extended family, my kids are the only kids so far, so there aren’t tons of young ones running around, screaming, fighting and knocking things over, which my mother definitely considers a blessings, since we usually gather at her house.  And since no one in my family likes watching football, we aren't distracted by a bunch of men yelling at the television.  

Even though my family consists of only six people, we make enough food to feed a small army, and we all contribute something to the feast.  Because of my busy schedule, my husband and children usually prepare and provide the hors d'oerves, a few side dishes, and the sodas, and my mother and sister make the entrees and the desserts.  We usually eat at my mother's house, where we eat, discuss current events, what is relevant in our lives and talk about the Thankgivings of the past, like the time our '67 Chevy Nova wagon died at the bottom of a steep hill and we had to walk all the way up the hill and halfway through town in order to get to our house.  There is usually a movie on in the background, which nobody really pays attention to, and after about four hours, my family and I drive the whole two blocks back to our home. 

When my children get older and begin to have their own families, it is going to be interesting  to see how our family dynamics will change. I wonder if I will become that crazed grandmother who gets thrilled at the idea of pinching her grandchildren’s cheeks. Once my children have their own families, will our quiet little family Thanksgiving dinners become "normal" and therefore full of football, screaming kids, rowdiness, drunkenness and aired long-dormant grievances, or will they be the quiet, cooperative and friendly little family gatherings that I have come to know so well? Only time will tell, but one can only hope.