Really really sad. I got a sliver, in my right middle finger. Right on the end. Straight into the flesh. I got it out last night, most of it, and so it doesn't hurt like it did yesterday. But it's made it very hard to type and very hard to take pictures, but not so hard to flip people the bird. Too bad I haven't left the house in a few days. I might venture out today in the 35+ (that's 95 for you Americans).
I called Genesis about my tattoo. Kerry has lost almost all his scabs, it's quite gross, but he's healing very well after getting off to a rocky, red, inflamed start. I haven't lost one scab, my tattoo looks like I've been embossed with black embossing powder. It's not dry, I mosturized enough. So I called to confirm my thoughts, I can't go swimming until the scabs fall off. Which means I'll be the one at the reunion this weekend sitting in the shade taking a zillion pictures and melting, because fat melts in the heat. Oh, well, maybe it will melt off of me, maybe I'll dress to warmly and it will be like a Native sweat lodge. Hopefully, the scabs are gone by the time we take the kids to the waterslides. That would be a truely sad trip if I couldn't go.
We, me and Kerry, are making plans to go to this. He loves Subaru rally stuff, I am just forced to watch it. So he asks if I want to go because it will be a good time to practice my photography skills. That guy knows what to say, he's so romantic.
My birthday is coming, about 10 days away, so we were making plans. My parents are going out of town and won't be here for my birthday. And Saturday, Aug. 8, is fight night, so I thought I'd do cupcakes for fight night, but then last night just before I fell asleep I realized that the fight co-ordinator, Dad, will be out of town. Waaaahhh...no birthday fight night at Dad's. So maybe for my birthday we will get a honkin' huge flat screen tv and do our potluck fight night at our house this month. And maybe monkies will fly out my butt.