Slice and Dice

So I just had three weird needle like slicer things stuck into me (one of them in a very sensitive area). I wish that I could say it was cool but I don't remember it at all. They strapped me down on a somewhat creepy cross-like bed and make small talk, not mentioning that they're about to be exposing me and touching me in areas that no woman ever has. I'm glad that they were wearing masks and therefore I can never recognize them. I would be way too embarrassed. It is way to cold in the o.r. Luckily I was on muscle relaxants and that countered the effects of the "chill." Thank God for small mercies. Percocet is another blessing. I didn't really think that it was necessary until this afternoon. After driving around getting my prescription filled and walking around the house, when the previous pill wore off it was not fun. Now I'm happy. Ice cream helps as well. I also have tickets for California! Socal here I come. The beach, the sun, In-N-Out, Carl's Jr., good mexican food, In-N-Out, people that know how to drive on the freeway, In-N-Out, In-N-Out . . . do you get the idea?

Moving

So, as most of my continuous readers know, I'm in the process of moving right now. This has proved to be a rather exhausting process. Despite my best efforts, I can't seem to get anything out of my old apartment. By the time that I get out of work I can't even fathom the idea of stopping by my apt. before going home. I just want to go home and relax then sleep! Of course when I get home there are 4 children between the ages of 3 and 10 that apparently only ever want to play with me, so I almost always have to appease them before they go to sleep. I'm good with kids but that has it' s draw-backs. They get all pissy when I don't play with them. Damn children! I've been awake since 3 am on duty, leave me alone!!! But they're so cute, I can't help but love them. Who knew I'd end up a kid person? I never thought that I would be that good with kids.

Bitches

Good news, I got more of my right arm done! One more sitting and it'll be complete.

So i got in touch with an old friend from high school via facebook the other day. I was perusing his profile and one of the first things that I noticed was that he was part of not one but two groups called "Fuck the Troops." I thought that it was a joke or something, but they were completely serious. Essentially these people believe that since all personnel in the military volunteered for service and we are fighting "stupid, senseless wars" those of us in the armed services are directly supporting the ruination of America. I paraphrase of course. I sent him a message asking WTF? I also mentioned that I've done many things in the Navy that have safeguarded the security of the country (obviously I can't give any explanation). His response was practically an essay on how I'm dilluded and an idiot and he thinks that my 6 months away from home on deployment were a joke. No surprise, I want to punch him in the face.

I despise, loathe. and detest my job. Get me out of this shit-hole, please.

I hate my job.

Damn!

Okay, so coffee shop girl has a boyfriend. This is very disappointing. Luckily for me I didn't find this out by asking her out. I was in the shop drawing sketches for my tattoo tonight (yay for pain) when her boyfriend walked in to tell her something. Oh well, I'll live. She is crazy hot though, and her name is Kitty apparently. For some reason that's cool to me. Maybe she has friends.

Addiction

My sister Molly brings up a good point. Body art is addicting. I've spent quite a bit of money over the past three years just on ink. Her concern is not monetary in nature, but physical. Physical in that I keep getting more done every few months. She thinks that eventually I will cover myself beyond recall. My current plan is to have two full 1/2 sleeves, finish my right side and essentially cover my upper back. But what if I have a wonderful and inspired idea 6 months after all of that is done? How do I stop myself? I think the solution lies in my own taste. I do not like the idea of leg tattoos, I don't like full sleeves (covering down to the wrists is unsightly), and my physical build does not support chest or stomach art. I will never be fat, but I will never maintain a six pack either (except in my fridge). For some twisted reason (maybe I just like pain) I enjoy getting tattooed. Finishing the inside of my arm is going to be excruciating but I am actually looking forward to it.
I must admit a certain social reasoning as well. I like the image that tattoos give. It's not about being macho or more of a bad-ass, or trying to get in with the biker crowd. I like to tell stories, and my tattoos help me tell them. They're about my family and my Navy service and my heritage. I will always love and treasure my sisters so I will never regret my first tattoo. I will always be proud of my heritage and that I was in the Navy.
Besides that, they do just look freakin' awesome!!!