18 June 2006

And so it goes

I can never remember which colour font I use. So my bad when they're different.

For a while now, since Daddy died, I guess, I've been wanting to get a tattoo to honour him. But I don't want anything all obvious like a heart that says "Daddy" or anything. For a while, I was working on a design with a dragonfly and a hibiscus (2 of my favourite things), and I was working on writing Daddy's name into the dragonfly wings. Then I found a hibiscus font, and inspiration hit. I created a band, using the font, that spells out Daddy's name. I'll get it done on my ankle, and it'll be about 3/4" - 1" tall. This is what it'll look like:

'Course, if I can find a dragonfly font, I'll mix it up some. I'm going to contact a few local tattoo artists and see if they can quote me an approximate price, and start saving. I'm going to go out on a limb and estimate $150-$225 for it. Maybe a bit more if I go to a super good artist, which I definitely want to do. A friend of mine was telling me about an artist a few hours away who re-did hers, and made the colour just POP, and I'm really impressed with the lady's work. Since this is the tribute to Daddy, I want it to be done perfectly, so I'm willing to spend the extra money to be sure it won't fade or bleed. If I could go back to Hotlanta to get the artist who did my first tat, I totally would, because I've had it for 8 years, and it hasn't even BEGUN to fade!

Speaking of Daddy, I think that when he died, he passed onto me his sense of responsibility, which I have never really had. I mean, to an extent I do obviously, since I'm not living with my parents, and not living in a refrigerator box on the street. But for a long time, if I had a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, I would blow off any- and everything to do it. Two cases in point: Quit my job to go to Australia for 3 months. Quit my job to work for a rockband for a year. I lived so much, and had so many extraordinary experiences when I was younger, that I'm wondering if I've already run through my allotment. The point of all of this rambling is this: My favourite hockey team will be playing Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Final in Raleigh, NC on Monday. This is also the team my BF was drafted to. This is a dream for me, to just even know it's happening. But through the near-perfect alignment of all the planets, I have a free flight down, free tickets, a free hotel room, and the promise of partying with whichver team wins the Cup. This is literally the opportunity of a lifetime. It will likely never come again. However, being that I missed a month and a half of work due to Daddy's death, and the problems with my back, and just came back to work on Thursday - there is no way in hell I can blow off work on Monday and Tuesday, and feel good about myself. No matter how good of a time I have, no matter if the Oilers win the Cup, no matter if Rob puts on a jersey and plays (he hasn't yet), I can not justify doing it.

Thanks, Daddy. Thanks for passing onto me the need to be a responsible adult. Thanks for making me put work, at which I will likely do nothing of consequence, before one of the greatest events to exist. I'm only partly mad, because I know wherever he is, Daddy is proud of me for being responsible. And I'm mad at karma and fate, because I have really been a good person, and I have been done wrong at nearly every turn. I would really like, even if just once in a while, for things like this to actually work out. For now, I'll be thankful that I've had values instilled in me that I hadn't realised were so strong. But there will still be a couple moments of bitterness and resentment.


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