It's Friday night, well technically it's Saturday morning and i'm sitting by my overly crowded dining table spending the evening cruising online. I am half heartedly watching a rerun of Monster-in-law on HBO just to pass time.
I tried to pass out earlier but my back is super itchy! Yes, one of the dreaded fallbacks of having a healing tatt. Last night i kept waking up wanting to grab the nearest sharp object and scrape my flesh. But as you know, that is a complete SIN to even come close to scratching the surface when it comes to caring for new ink.
I have visions of Baloo in Jungle Book, in the scene when his back was itchy and how he relieved his itch by rubbing his back against a palm tree. If it were acceptable or even hygienic, i'd borrow Smook's scratching post and use it as a loofah! OH how divine!
So my only time of quick relief is when i rub the moisturizer in after my shower which tends to last much longer than usual, slap my back continuously or rub my finger tips lightly over my covered back.
OH I CAN'T WAIT FOR IT TO HEAL!!!
...
Anne Savage is playing at Ruums tonight and guess where i'm at? H.O.M.E. One part of me says i should be out, seeing that it is Friday night and the start of the F1 weekend but for some reason, the i-can't-be-arsed mode has kicked in.
Plus Yoji is playing at an event tomorrow. i'm tempted to go but i'm only interested to see his set. But knowing that it'll end before 3am... it doesn't exactly scream FUCK YEAH! And i'm sure his set will only be an hour and a half. With a limited capacity and tickets being sold at the door it doesn't look too promising. Knowing my luck i'll arrive and it'll be so packed or better still, tickets will be sold out and i'll wish i was sitting back in the car or vegging out on my couch. It's a no win situation.
I remember there was a time when i couldn't wait for the weekend. I'm not sure whether it's just me being anti-social and/or that i don't really have very much in common with people i used to hang out with. That's not to say i don't miss them... I do.
Maybe i just haven't found my groove... yet. Maybe i've misplaced it or it's run away.
I guess they could argue that it is my choice not to call and/or ask what their plans are. Then somehow include myself in their plans like a lost bitch trying to fit in and tagging along. But then again, unless i have my string of adult beverages to accompany me, there is a high chance of finding myself seated in the middle of a conversation that i cannot comprehend because of a language barrier and feeling very much like an outsider because i don't speak their dialect.
It's strange.
I can't emphasise how frustrating it is not being able to understand another language. Sometimes i wish i was bilingual. It would make things so much easier not only for my social life but career too. With my twisted American/Aussie/British twang of an accent, i wonder how i would sound speaking Mandarin... *thinks* ... Pretty damn funny i think.... ahhahah.
So maybe, i'm doing myself a favor.
Not only am i saving my wallet and liver from more damage but looking at the positive side of it, i can parade around in the comfort of my home with fucked up hair and flounce around in my girl boxers and skimpy singlet.
I tried to pass out earlier but my back is super itchy! Yes, one of the dreaded fallbacks of having a healing tatt. Last night i kept waking up wanting to grab the nearest sharp object and scrape my flesh. But as you know, that is a complete SIN to even come close to scratching the surface when it comes to caring for new ink.
I have visions of Baloo in Jungle Book, in the scene when his back was itchy and how he relieved his itch by rubbing his back against a palm tree. If it were acceptable or even hygienic, i'd borrow Smook's scratching post and use it as a loofah! OH how divine!
So my only time of quick relief is when i rub the moisturizer in after my shower which tends to last much longer than usual, slap my back continuously or rub my finger tips lightly over my covered back.
OH I CAN'T WAIT FOR IT TO HEAL!!!
...
Anne Savage is playing at Ruums tonight and guess where i'm at? H.O.M.E. One part of me says i should be out, seeing that it is Friday night and the start of the F1 weekend but for some reason, the i-can't-be-arsed mode has kicked in.
Plus Yoji is playing at an event tomorrow. i'm tempted to go but i'm only interested to see his set. But knowing that it'll end before 3am... it doesn't exactly scream FUCK YEAH! And i'm sure his set will only be an hour and a half. With a limited capacity and tickets being sold at the door it doesn't look too promising. Knowing my luck i'll arrive and it'll be so packed or better still, tickets will be sold out and i'll wish i was sitting back in the car or vegging out on my couch. It's a no win situation.
I remember there was a time when i couldn't wait for the weekend. I'm not sure whether it's just me being anti-social and/or that i don't really have very much in common with people i used to hang out with. That's not to say i don't miss them... I do.
Maybe i just haven't found my groove... yet. Maybe i've misplaced it or it's run away.
I guess they could argue that it is my choice not to call and/or ask what their plans are. Then somehow include myself in their plans like a lost bitch trying to fit in and tagging along. But then again, unless i have my string of adult beverages to accompany me, there is a high chance of finding myself seated in the middle of a conversation that i cannot comprehend because of a language barrier and feeling very much like an outsider because i don't speak their dialect.
It's strange.
I can't emphasise how frustrating it is not being able to understand another language. Sometimes i wish i was bilingual. It would make things so much easier not only for my social life but career too. With my twisted American/Aussie/British twang of an accent, i wonder how i would sound speaking Mandarin... *thinks* ... Pretty damn funny i think.... ahhahah.
So maybe, i'm doing myself a favor.
Not only am i saving my wallet and liver from more damage but looking at the positive side of it, i can parade around in the comfort of my home with fucked up hair and flounce around in my girl boxers and skimpy singlet.
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