Beads.

I love this photo. I love even more the inverted cross formation this kid wanted his beads. Shit turned out tight as fuck and super clean. Healed photos will be posted.

Feast.

Mr. Race Dizzle and I concocted a feast to celebrate the Undead Son Of Lord's resurrection. Unfortunately, there are no photos to share. Race made something called "Sticky Chicken" with chicken legs and thighs basically boiled in a pot with some leinenkugel, bacon fat, Cajun seasoning and such. We ate this over white rice. He also prepared some mashed potato delight with chunks of bacon, onions, and a dickton of sour cream. That shit was incredible. We also had steamed broccoli with butter and pepperjack cheese melted all over it, with a kickass spinach, feta, and strawberry salad with some type of vinigrette. Between the pounds of food I consumed and the 6 pack and then some I drank, I am still right now, too full.

Fail.

F. M. L. Screwing shit up like a fucking newb. Why can I not just be awesome like a magical piercing robot-Jedi hybrid? Whatever. Another reason to try harder I guess. :/

Hindsight

I am currently obligated to camp out in a very depressing region of Florida, with one week to go on my sentence. I've been counting down the days since I've arrived and things started going awry. First, on the third day of my stay, my good friend/host/middle man for the job here decided to quit his job in a diva-esque mouth diarrhea session that burned any bridges he had with this shop. In doing so, he also put me in quite the awkward situation, in that I felt obligated to spend time with him, which turned out to be anything but fun seeing as though he no longer was welcome amongst the group of friends at the shop. In addition, about a week after that, coincidentally enough, he decided to go scope out job opportunities in Nashville, in effect leaving me homeless, and when he came back with plans to move, that was apathetically not retracted. I can't bitch too much, seeing as though I have been helped greatly and the boys at Cherry Bomb have treated me to way more than my fair share of great times; however, the self-centeredness of my host is really quite appalling to me, and the thought at the back of mind remains. What if these guys were a bunch of assholes and I was completely left hanging? Oh well, I guess. All the more reason to hurry home more than I had already wished to.

Speaking of home, I feel quite nervous to be honest. I feel kind as though I'm starting a new life in an old place. I had only been back at my shop for three weeks since moving back from New Hampshire, which as anyone who's known me for any amount of time will tell you, changed a lot of things for me. Regardless of any happenings there, the moral of the story is that my life changed drastically. I feel a bit lost in myself as of late, in that I poured myself into the most important facets of my life in New Hampshire; my job and my relationship, forgetting about almost everything else that I used to get stoked on. My wife made me happy the majority of my time there, and all I cared about was her and how I could make her happier. Unbeknown to me was the emptiness that began to consume me. I set aside body art projects, music, opportunities to make friends, and other hobbies and interests (mostly due to my own financial shortcomings) for the sake of working hard at piercing to feel fulfilled enough to take the place of everything else I used to like and to foot the bill for two people to live and be happy. I don't blame her, I blame myself for being too proud to ask for help, especially since she had a ton on her plate to worry about with school and being an artist in her own right and pouring herself into her life. We should have never been married; I could have coexisted much more happily with space I think...I would have been less likely I think to feed into the outside attention that I was receiving had I not felt so backed into a corner. As the saying goes, hindsight is 20/20. Regardless of the outcome, I genuinely believe we are each better people for our experiences with eachother and I will never forget Michelle Peterson and the things I learned from her. Thank you/I'm sorry/you're welcome, etc.

All that's left to do now if to figure out how to he happy in Upstate New York. I love where I live and there are way more than enough awesome friends there for me to pass the time with. I finally get to do what I want where I wanted to do it in the first place, which I feel is going to help my internal issues immensely. I am most excited for one project in particular. I will be learning custom metal fabrication from my father, who happens to be a jack of all trades; a quality I have always wished had been passed along into my genes. Realistically, it is my own laziness and quickness to throw in the towel that's my biggest obstacle. Piercing was the one thing that, other than Michelle's diligence in art, taught me to put my nose to the grind stone and accomplish things. He will be helping me to create (the most badass you've ever fucking seen!) jewelry cases and displays for my shop. Think industrial-chic. I'll post progress photos as they start being built. Also, shooting is an aspect of my childhood I have no idea why I ever gave up. I can't brag rightly about many things, but I'm a pretty crack shot with a shot gun, though my reaction time could be improved surely. Also, fishing, and in general, being outdoors, enjoying what my region has to offer, will be huge.