Craptastic Weekend

Yeah, yeah, yeah, what about the Boston photos? Well, I kinda took the weekend off, and am only getting around to uploading them now. Soon, kids.

So, this weekend. Yeah. Well. It starts with my friends, Dave and Jessi, who have been planning on moving to Chicago this summer. “This summer” very suddenly became “Friday” due to an unexpected interview opportunity. So, along with the masses, I got up at 4:30 am on Friday so that I could spend some quality time with Dave, waiting in line* so he could buy a new iPhone. He and Jessi left for Chicago, with my goddog, Oscar, and Oscar’s “sister,” Maddie, shortly after we returned home.

On Friday afternoon, I visited Greg over at Tribal Rites so he could try to fix the color on my tattoo. An hour later, covered with a layer of the lilac it should have been in the first place, it was looking a lot less blue. It still wasn’t the color I had originally intended, of course, but a good improvement. Jay and Alison saw it Friday night at a screening of Hellboy II, and gave their nod of approval.

Saturday morning, and the color was right back to where it started. I’m not real familiar with tattoo ink, but I didn’t think that was possible. Alison and Jay saw it again on Saturday, and were as surprised as I was by the shift. I guess it really wants to be blue. Which is too bad, because I HATE IT. HATE. I spent a YEAR obsessing about this art before committing it to my flesh, and teal blue was NEVER part of the plan. I am too upset to even think about what to do at this point. Saturday didn’t start off on the best note, and then:

The rest of the day was filled with laughter and tears as the remaining crew got together to help load up Erin and Tim’s belongings into their moving truck. I was given the oh-so-important task of holding the Door Open button on the elevator, while a flurry of people efficiently moved boxes and furniture from the third-floor apartment into the giant Penske truck waiting below. We all shuffled out in the afternoon, and Tim and Erin hit the road to Oklahoma a short time later. The only thing keeping me together is the promise of a visit from them at Halloween, our most favoritest of costumed holidays. I spent the afternoon trolling around online for costume accessories for a variety of ideas. I wonder which one will pan out!

Sunday was spent hanging out with Timber, driving around and visiting a (small!) car show and hitting up REI (we both bought nothing, but interestingly, ran into Alison and Jay). I bought a cute little vintage hat at Flossie McGrew’s. I tried and failed to troubleshoot Timber’s newest computer, an old iMac G4 which he found, fittingly, abandoned near a Dumpster. The monitor wasn’t coming on, and I don’t think the hard drive was spinning up (the fan was working fine, though!). He replaced the air filter in my car in the time it took me to make three trips into the basement looking for assorted cables and connectors as I attempted to hook the iMac up to either my MacBook or an LCD monitor to see if I could access the drive. No luck. I am troubled at my failure to diagnose and fix the problem. At least I have a bright, clean new air filter. 😀

Four more days at the office, and then I get to fly out to see MANDY, which will help take the edge off. Even if all we do is hang out on the sofa and catch up on DVDs (with the occasional foray to Sebastian Joe’s for a scoop of something interesting, and Edina Grill for pierogis. And the St. Clair Broiler for the great signage and a good malt!), just being able to spend some time with Mandy will be a much-needed weekend.

Tomorrow: Boston. I promise.

*I have been reminded that the rest of the world waits IN line for things. Only New Yorkers wait ON line. I confused a friend, who thought I was talking about buying the iPhone online. I shall henceforth try to amend my communication.

sore and achey and cheap

SORE AND ACHEY: I was able to see a massage therapist on Tuesday, and she was great, but there is still residual neck pain. Add to that the muscle tensing involved in getting a new tattoo Tuesday night, as well as the lingering sting from being poked with needles 80-gazillion times, and you will understand why I’m so looking forward to, say, three days from now. By then, my neck should be healed, my muscles relaxed, and all that will remain will be the freshly itchy, healing skin. Woo. Party time. Big shout out to Nova for bravely baring her ankles to the tattoo artist’s gun. So brave, in fact, in spite of a last-minute swap of artists. Her appointment was originally with Dean, who was called away on an emergency, and Dan filled in (no pun intended) with no notice. Such an unexpected snag would have thrown me for a loop, but she took it in stride. Also, many thanks to Greg for chatting with me the whole time about art school and ’rods. Mostly ’rods. And a few spare thank-yous to Mike (no page link) for repeatedly referring to me as “Miss” instead of “Ma’am.” You are a gentlemen, sir.

CHEAP: A large car show that I mentioned in an earlier post is scheduled for this weekend. I was looking forward to it, until I found out that admission tickets cost $15 $17 dollars. SEVENTEEN doll-hairs. If that admission ticket is good for all three days (and it could very well take three days to admire the rumored 2,500 cars), then it’s not a bad deal. But for those of us who only have one day to spare, it’s a bit steep. Even if I can nose out a coupon, it will likely only knock off a couple of dollars. That show may be a no-go, yo.

feeling unprepared

Tuesday is the big day. The day of my next tattoo. The one that I’ve been planning in my head for a bit over a year, and planning on “paper” for the last week or so. I had asked two different pros for help with the artwork; but both flaked on me, leaving me to create it on my own. I am now breaking two of my own tattoo rules: nothing on my back where I have to contort to see it, and nothing I’ve drawn myself.

I expect that the final design, as applied, will be imperfect. Tattoos are done by hand, after all. As is the hot-rod pinstriping that this tattoo is based on, so the imperfection is something I can live with. But… I want the art to be as perfect as possible going in, so that the tattoo artist has a good foundation from which to deviate. And I’m obsessing. It will be permanent, after all. I am so glad that I’m putting it on my back, so that I can’t easily see it and be haunted by changes I would make were I to look at it every day. Because every day, I have been moving the lines around. Every. Single. Day. While I’m writing this, in fact. Tuesday evening, the madness has to stop.

I might be on Vicodin during the tattoo after all, because I horked my neck Sunday morning. I’m starting to think that this is some old teenage headbanging injury that I keep aggravating. I few times a year, I am nearly immobilized by making some minor move that winds up royally jacking me up. Sunday, I stretched. Yep, that’s right. I stretched. Your average, everyday, just-got-out-of-bed stretch. PING! Can’t move my head. I spent most of the day on the couch with my microwave heating pad, alternating between Advil and Vicodin. Monday was an improvement, but I still feel pretty beat up. I don’t know if I’ll be able to run over to my massage therapy office on Tuesday, but I hope to get this worked out a bit before I have to sit in the tattoo artist’s chair for an hour. I’ll be tense enough during that, thankyouverymuch, without the additional muscle spasms.

The evil morning stretch preceded a wonderful breakfast prepared by Joe for those of us who spent the night after Nova‘s birthday/Paris party. French toast, of course, and granola and yogurt and berries. Oh my! I would have posted the photos sooner, but really, I was that laid out. Besides, the photos coming from Phoenix are much more interesting! MARS, people. Fekkin’ Mars.