My blood hurts

So, I am a liar. But instead of any well-constructed post about the numerous things going on in the last week, I'm just going to talk about today, really quick. I had a 4 1/2 hour tattoo session, and it hurt like hell. Almost ever color made blood permeate through the ink, which looked kind of cool, but didn't feel nice, even thought I took it "like a man." I'm stoked on how it came out, but bummed we had to cut the session short. It's 95% complete but we decided to finish up on Sunday, since I had to get back to Albany in time for last minute band practice with our new, and now 3rd drummer in 8 months, making him the 4th new member.

Throb throb goes the skin.

Tattoos are definitely addicting though. It's a pain you pay for, which is pretty wild if you think about it. Like torture with an hourly rate, only you want it done because it looks cool. And really, what is the point of getting your skin drawn on if it doesn't look good? I guess I really am a superficial consumer whore like the rest! Blast!

At Tuesday's practice (See? I lied again) this burnout dude came in with the debt collector for the practice space, which was all well and good, except that he tripped over my box fan. This fan is at least 10 years old, but the motor is so simple you'd think it would never break.

It broke.

I now have the pleasure of listening to my fan cough and stutter every few minutes. It's like an old man fan, man.

Iamnervousaboutleavingandwillmisseveryoneandeverythingiknowand
loveandihopeilikemyjobandnewhomeandnewfriendsandnewlife.

Countdown to D-day: 11 days.





"Nobody every had a dream 'round here but I don't really mind that it's starting to get to me." - The Killers