Oseberg ship’s head

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Dear Internet,

The dubious quote above apparently comes from the Ethan Hawk movie classic, Great Expectations, so we’re just going to roll with it.

Tuesday I spent time wandering in 1999 and it’s been a painful walk down memory lane as I revisited, in explicit and intense detail, TheHusband and I’s first breakup, my intent to free myself of the tyranny I felt living in San Francisco, falling for Elvis, and my never ending obsession with one of my exes, Jeff (whom as I knew so many damn people or were related to those named Jeff, was referred to as “lucid” through most of my writing).

[Interlude —  Of course as I started writing this, I had to google stalk him. Well, let’s not be surprised he has a Twitter account and I made frowny faces as I read back his timeline because – this is not someone I would have ever dated in a million years.  But it should be noted his first wife had emailed me oh five or six years ago because apparently he spent most of his first marriage comparing her to me and wife #2 looks suspiciously like me circa when we were dating.]

Months up to June have been added for that year, but I stopped because I didn’t think I could handle reading any more in one sitting. There is only so much self-effacing and baring of the soul I can stomach before shutting emotionally down, even if it is about me. I will, however leave you with two foto posts of my exploits that year: One of 26 year old me via a B/W cam in April, 1999 and another one, written a month later, showing off my nipple and tongue piercings.

Which is a good segue towards this weekend, as I have a long standing appointment this Saturday to start work on tattoo #14. The inspiration is a Nordic dragon that will start at my shoulder joint and wrap its way around my arm. I’ve thrown the inspiration up on the Pinterest board I’ve started curating for ideas for the half-sleeve which will take over my right arm. It works that two existing pieces on my right arm right now are celtic in design, so adding a fiery dragon’s body will look fabulous.

My time off of work this week has resulted in more time spent in pants that I wanted to spend, but those are the sacrifices one makes. Lindsay came over to spend the day on Monday, which was good for our souls and Tuesday was spent running errands and seeing my therapist. As TheHusband and I had no intention of leaving the house this weekend, or at the very least, leaving the house and heading anywhere there might be flock of murderous shoppers, I decided to pick up some much needed items before locking ourselves in for the week. I shocked not just by the number of stores already doing pre-pre Black Friday sales but the number of shoppers who were jockeying for spots in parking.

The next couple of days are going to be very heavy food based entries as we prep for Thanksgiving dinner. Our menu is as follows:

Guinness marinated roast beef
Mashed potatoes
Cornbread and sausage stuffing
Roasted root veg
Greens cooked in bacon
Trifle
Chocolate pecan pie

Ya’ll are invited. Dinner is at 4PM.

x0x0,
Lisa

This day in Lisa-Universe:

Day 12: A few weeks of fail

The runic symbol of thorn, on my left wrist, done by Gareth Hawkins at Wealthy Street Tattoo.
If plans had gone the way they were supposed to, I’d be writing a little snarky aside right now on Day 12 in the UFYH movement and how my life was coming together nicely. The previous 11 days would have been already posted on the Internet, keeping myself in check. I would be less stressed, more relaxed, and better organized.

Instead, you get one giant post filled with snarls and teeth gnashing.

Day one was as it was to be: Clothes laid out the night before, coffee made for the morning, lunch/breakfasts made and packed. Most of everything laid out in this reminder post over at UFYH is what I do (more or less) on a regular basis prior to my discovering UFYH but this time I did ALL THE THINGS. The morning the first went without a hitch as I woke up on time, did my five minute yoga and seven minute writing bits and the rest of the day, since I was not stressed, flowed as smooth as a baby’s bottom. I even started laying out the post I was going to write for that day. But something – IT IS ALWAYS SOMETHING – ate in my world and well, the post was never written and the days that followed were a complete and utter fail because of a hiccup, I tore the entire project down in my head.
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Patron Saint of Piercings

My dear friend, Carrie-Anne over at Little Big posted today about SEO for Gangsters, which prompted me to take a look at my own keyword searches and see the haps.

Here is what I found:

patronsaintofpiercing

To be fair, the “MLIS series porn” kind of makes sense because I recently wrote about the influx of erotica fiction in which librarians were heavily featured. But the “patron saint of piercings” is the funny one – considering I haven’t purposefully discussed body modification in ages.

Or it could possibly be a nomination of sorts? Well then, I’m flattered.