the new sock monkey pattern has called for a ‘whip stitch’. what is a bloody whip stitch?

it has been close to fifteen years since i earned my All Around Cord with the Girl Guides of Canada and even longer since i used to teach my Dad’s Cub Scouts their knots to intimidate the shit out of them, so they’d learn them faster; what being taught by a GIRL and all.

you’d think it would ALL come back

nope, we surfed the net with the dedication of a first year Girl Guide trying to earn twenty badges at once. i HAD so many badges man…WHAT THE FUCK IS A WHIP STITCH. i made an executive decision and decided it was basically the same stitch we were already using, it worked well last year so fuck it, if the stitch works use it.

[i have no idea what stitch we are really using]

my frameless piece of shit glasses most recently seen here, broke again so im stuck wearing these. they leave a big red mark on my nose AND they hurt my ears.

this mission, this journey, it could take me anywhere. it never leaves me standing still. sometimes it takes motivation that i swear i don’t have - but i find it.
he says he thinks i will get better, that he will see me get better because i work so hard at it.
it doesn’t always feel that way. (but.) i finally made a commitment to it.
i keep going each friday, less missed appointments than ever before and dedication plastered across my forehead.
i still almost never cry there. my eyes brim but rarely flood over. i hardly cry anymore at all. (i.think.i.should.cry.more,i.need.to.cry.more). like i used to.
not like when i have PMS and i’ll cry if you look at me. it doesn’t even have to be ‘funny’.
but like i used to.
the tears were never understood and always judged
for attention they’d say
so i just stopped crying (about.that.stuff)

my arm looked like this last night after the first 2 hours.

yesterday was way more interesting than i could of imagined.

the door to the apartment flew open at about 10am. in rushed an excited adam. he�d cut his finger and would get to come to my tattoo sitting with me. im like what are you excited about you HURT yourself tough guy.
the first thing he did yesterday when he got to work was slice his finger open. he went down to first aid, they bandaged it, he went back up to work but it split back open. he had it bandaged up again and they sent him home.
i sent him to the clinic.
lucky guy got 3 freezing needles a tetanus shot and 5 stitches.

talk about an incredible man, no wonder i love him so much he slices open his finger and is excited because he gets to sit and watch me be a tough guy.

this drawing although rad, obviously does not do the tattoo justice. the colors in the butterfly will be completely different than shown here. they are going to be much darker to set off the cat even more and the eyes will of course be blue. the skull will still be a shade of pink. also there are no �rays�.

obviously this is incredibly hard to scan. i hope to get a photo for you soon. the butterfly comes up to the top of my shoulder and onto the back of my arm the rest of the cat is also on the arm back. the butterfly (you can sort of see the wings coming off the scull), some back ground, some shading and some more color is going into the cat. there is likely about an hour and a half left on it. (the lines on the tattoo are all perfectly straight the scanner distorts them)

this tattoo has a story that i would love to share with you all but it will have to wait for another post! i hope this does for now!

my original plan was to post this picture as a send off to the golf season. this picture is from the 2004 season. not that we didn�t get ANY shots this year but come on - the look on my face is priceless. i would venture a guess the only reason i missed that putt was because i was not yet in possession of my Odyssey.

but then last night while showering i was exfoliating the sometimes rough crocodile skin i get on my upper arms and i realized that this is the last hours i will be spending with my right upper arm as a bare right upper arm.
tomorrow at 2:30 i go in for the first sitting of my newest tattoo.
this isn�t just any tattoo.

this isn�t tigger when i was 18 and showing mild defiance. i say mild because it was tigger and although my parents had shown appropriate displeasure and disbelief that i was actually going to get a tattoo and never agreed with it, they never really gave me a hard time about it either.

this isn�t the three daisies circling my belly button
it was also done in Terrace, it took 15 minutes and it for serious didn�t hurt AT ALL.

this isn�t even close the most meaningful tattoo i have. the sun on my back. based on a drawing by sarah mclachlan. the face i had put in the middle is smirking because i have been told my facial expressions, at times can be near impossible to figure out. and i hate people who think they know me have me all figured out, and don�t.

if chad uses the entire space he mapped of my arm it will be pretty big. it is a two sitter for sure and two completely separate not small ‘things’. im filled with nervous excitement because i�ve never gotten anything this big and i�ve always wanted an arm tattoo.
a few days before my consultation in september i sent chad an extensive email with pictures of what it�s all about. thankfully he was interested and when we met for the consultation i took him lots of photos. IF by slim slim chance it is not exactly what i want, we�ll deal with that then.
im afraid if i try to explain what it�s going to look like on here i will not be able to do it justice, you�ll all just have to wait till i can either scan my arm or till the weekend when i may have access to a digital.
if i have to ask a stranger on the street to take a photo for you guys i will ok. i�ll do it. i�ll whore out my arm for you.

i will now call this shot: the last known photo of my bare upper right arm.

when i was making my final decision on what arm i was going to go with golf did come into account. the right works better for me in that when i�m teeing off everyone will be staring at it and i�ll be thinking about how everyone is staring at my kick ass tattoo (one part has a pink skull and cross bones as the body of a butterfly with eyes in the wings of the butterfly) and not about my shot.

i can not stop eating english muffins with peanut butter on them.

i just fucking got peanut butter on my pants and some times i worry i will get it on my PS2 remote - oops i mean CONTROLLER.

i call my PS2 ‘controller’ a remote EVERY TIME. that is SO WRONG according to everyone.

i think it is interesting to note that i have always and i mean always loved english muffins and that i have also always and i mean always loved peanut butter. BUT not together.

one of my favourite things is toast with peanut butter. AS LONG as the toast is toasted properly IF it is over toasted it tastes like CRAP and IF it is under toasted the peanut butter fills up my mouth and i can’t breath properly and the milk just slips OVER the peanut butter and it takes like 15 minutes to clear my mouth between bites.

i have issues trying new things especially with food. it is one of the lamer things about me. i’m someone who would be happy if there was a pill i could take everyday once or twice. i could handle one in the morning and one in the evening, that would keep me full and then i’d never even have to think about food.

adam eats his english muffins with peanut butter and i am always like ewwww could you be any more GROSS. and when he’d offer me a bite i’d bite his arm.

then one day i took a bite of his stupid english muffin with peanut butter on it and there was an explosion of love in my mouth and now i can’t stop eating them.

the end.

you all remember chompy right?
here is a great shot of him chomping down on dr. vegas. (dr. vegas survived he is a dr. and therefore was able to sew himself the fuck back up. i was too in awe of the death roll performance in and of it’s self to have done a thing to help my helpless monkey. heartless bitch that i am)

so yesterday morning i am getting out of bed and this roundish ‘thing’ was laying on my sheets. i picked it up. it was an eyeball. i screamed. i checked that it wasn’t mine. i have blue eyes chompy’s are black ok sweet it’s not mine.

and then i couldn’t find chompy he was lost. with only one eye somewhere in the mess of the sheets. CHOMPY! CHOMPY i screamed.
i found him laying on his side an eyeless hole staring back up at me. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? gus and chompy must have gotten into some altercation i’d say gus had dr. vegas on her side.
OTHER than put you in a death roll what has chompy EVER done to you??

this is what my dear chompy looks like now. and his eye is now in a little container next to the bed so gus doesn’t play with it and kick it all over the apartment destroying any chance of chompy ever seeing out of it again.
chompy is going to need surgery. fuck i hope he makes it.