Arm is sore as hell, and extremely stiff, as you might expect. Tattoo still looks beautiful. I’m having the usual startlement when I see myself in the mirror–“Dude! Ink!” It’s sort of like when you get a new haircut–it’s not that it’s bad, it’s just startling, because your self-image hasn’t caught up yet.
Tattoo care is a stone bitch the first few days…I’m applying this goop called “Aquaphor” that was recommended by the tattoo parlor. It’s like gluey Vasoline. Apparently it improves the healing rate dramatically–the tattoo won’t scab over so much as flake, and it’s supposed to heal up in five days–but the stuff is nasty thick, and since there’s still ink leaking off, and mixing with this nasty gluey stuff, I’m having to sleep with a towel to avoid staining my sheets. And cleaning it off so I can soap up the tattoo twice a day is a mild agony. Still, if it heals in half the time, it’s worth it.
I’m reduced to wearing black tank tops for the next few days. Fortunately, this is the major part of my wardrobe already. Still–“Why did I do this right before a convention?” I moaned last night at Anime Night.
“If it wasn’t a convention, it would have been something else,” said my buddy Mike sagely. And he was right. And on that note, it looks like I’m getting a show through the Town of Cary art center sometime this coming year, which is another kind of awesome. (Watch, it’ll fall right before the delivery of the first book. I will bet you a chicken.)
Phew! Off for lunch with Deb…
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