My Friday the 13th has been way better than the 14th has been.
My sister, her boyfriend and I went to Illumanati Tattoo in Orange to get our $13 tattoos. While we ended up waiting five hours and didn't leave the shop till 2 a.m. everyone was pretty satisfied.
"Derp Tattoo Face"
I was pretty excited because there were a few Star Wars ones so I had to get something to compliment my glorious Boba Fett.
Boobs are added for scale.
But the 14th? Fuck the 14th. To start off, it would have been my mom's 57th birthday. The first of many special days that she isn't around for anymore. I feel like a scumbag; my sister and I are working on getting me moved back into my parent's home since there's suddenly space. We've been gradually clearing out my mom's closet and I had to go sell one final haul of clothes and I've been worried the whole day my mom is pissed as hell that that is what I am doing today.
My dad has been of no real help moving (half of what we have to move is his office since that's going to be my new living quarters). He's been fixated in outfitting their Jeep Rubicon so it can become an off-roading beast. Well, he decided to head out this morning, SOLO, to go off-roading for the first time and flipped the damn car. Thank goodness he's only minorly bruised up. Apparently the Jeep is "driveable", whatever the hell that's suppose to mean. It's just infuriating since there is something bigger going on that my sister and I need assistance with. Not to mention we have to make Christmas happen still...
In preparation for moving, I sold my metal, 4 post bed; which means no more fun play time in bed with ropes and handcuffs! Damnit! I also took down all the posters and decorations on my wall. My first set was shot against my wall of comic book posters. My living space has become very cold and boring. I just want to get this transition over with.
Moral of the Story: 13 is better than 14. The End.
