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04 January 2003 @ 10:34 am
The rumors of my death have been greatly...  
exagerrated.

I was in Maine.

My family was surprisingly sane. Chichi wa (sad romaji) is down to two drinks a day (woot), and my mom is, well, still smoking. My brother came up from southern Maine and we played team Trivial Pursuit (boys against girls), where the girls kicked serious butt.

My brother asked about the tattoos. The standard questions. Did it hurt? How long did it take? Etc. My mother sat there wincing as I explained the whole tattoo experience and talked about the big tattoo I want (and yes, I am a fan girl. Why thank you). It turns out that my brother is still recovering from his motorcycle accident. He has a skin graft on his ankle, which is definitely a different color than the rest of his skin, and there is a lot of scarring. He wants to get a tattoo done on his ankle of what it looked like when it was all mangled right after the accident.

The scary thing is that will look as good as the scarring and skin graft would normally, so it is definitely worth considering.

I saw my grandmother briefly, and she was the scrawny chicken lady that she always is (4' 11" and around 80 lbs at this point?). We hung up a picture for her and arranged a couple of new knick knacks and were given some strange reversable cape object (blue on the inside and some strange blue and white and red plaid on the outside).

Life is good.

I got home last night, having taken the bus home instead of getting a ride from my mom, because it was supposed to snow 10 to 20 inches up in their area of Maine. And so, I am home, relatively well rested, mostly unpacked, and doing laundry (and research for a query letter).

Life is definitely good.
 
 
Feeling like: productiveproductive
Listening to: nothing, autumnesquirrel is still asleep