Ink

Stupid allergies. Ugnh. Generally, I’m not debilitated by allergies, but once or twice a year my sinuses decide to rebel against whatever flower funk is fleetingly floating about. I’m expecting a day or two of this sniffing hell. It could be worse, poor SSDiabolique has been taking prescription meds all summer for her extensive allergies. I wonder what fell flower or wicked weed or morose mold has decided that there is no time to wait to procreate and pollinate.

Here is some fun-ness: Yesterday, thurtub got a glimpse of the tattoos on my back. I guess the sleeveless shirt I was wearing shifted the wrong way when I was playing with Lyse-All(LC). So, why does this matter? Inevitably he’ll tell mom. I was inked back in 1997/1998… I can’t remember exactly. At the time, I was apprehensive about telling mom, “Hey, I got a tattoo. Check it out!” So I kept putting it off. Eventually, the tattoo faded to the back of my mind and the fact that certain people didn’t know of its existence became normal to the point of universal consistency. That’s the way it’s always been and that’s the way it’ll always be. Oh well. Mom is a saint and though she may not approve she won’t disown me or anything. I wonder if this will become one of those circles of self-disillusionment, like when parents pretend that they don’t know their children are having sex and the children know that the parents know but they pretend otherwise and nobody wants to confront the situation so everyone feigns ignorance.

Consolation for the old wound now forgotten.
...and so it was written, shenry at 8/12/2002 09:11:00 AM.
...and so it was appended with .