Jul. 26th, 2008

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As a result, I've been up intermittently all night making sure he's not passed out on his bathroom floor. I'm pretty relieved that I didn't eat at Panda Express yesterday - I stole a couple of his pineapple chunks, but I had Del Taco. Right now I think he's actually been able to fall asleep.

Rob fights nausea, which is the exact opposite of what the body wants when you have food poisoning. The body wants you to get rid of it, quickly and efficiently, which is why it creates the nausea in the first place. Rob sat on his bathroom floor & fought it for about two hours before finally giving in & getting rid of it. Of course, he started yelling for me from the bathroom, and I was dead asleep - I thought he was yelling at me because I was snoring or something (when I fell asleep last night, I was on my back, but kind of bent over my pillows backwards, with my head tipped back & I was sawing some serious timber - Rob woke me up when he finished brushing his teeth & cleaning up for our original bedtime so I could change position... I'm glad he did because if I'd slept much longer like that I'd be stuck looking at the ceiling today), and when I woke up & he was just yelling "Help!" by that time, the first thing that went through my head was, "Aaagh! Scorpion!"

He never tries to help himself, though - trying to get him to drink something w/electrolytes in it you would think I was trying to poison him again. Granted, Gatorade is some foul tasting stuff - the only time I can stomach it myself is if I am noticeably dehydrated, like when I'd get migraines & be sick for two days, but he won't even accept plain Pedialyte. At least we've got some canned chicken broth, which I'm sure he'll be able to get down later today.

Last night as I sat with him at 3am, I noticed just how loud some of our ticking clocks are. I wondered how either of us could sleep normally with the tick-tocks surrounding us. At 3am, the world feels empty - even here in Vegas, everything sort of calms and settles, not a whole lot of activity or movement, and the mental channels clear as well. I remember sitting up all night while I was living w/my aunt & uncle in Tennessee, and at 3am, even the crickets were quiet. If I had the radio on, I could pick up a station broadcasting from either Cuba or it may have been Puerto Rico on the AM band.

Well, he's headed back to the bathroom, so his nap was short-lived. Poor guy. He frustrates me to no end when he gets an upset stomach, but I do feel bad for him. It's not like a hang-over where you deliberately did something to your body to make it take up arms against you. Nights like his are no fun for anyone.

Edited for the Local Weather: It is beautiful outside this morning - cloudy, humid and it smells like sage and the potential of rain. Thank you, Great Mystery, for gray skies full of promise.
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I'm watching this show on tattoos on the History Channel - they're showing New Zealand moko, the Polynesian version of moko, tattoos that are sewn under the skin, this old Japanese tattoo artist who basically hand-paints tattoos with a sharpened chopstick - he's a true artist, doesn't use stencils or drawn outlines & his work looks like those delicate Japanese watercolors... The pain looks exquisite. I ache for it.

Eventually I've got to go back to New Orleans and get a tattoo from there.

There's this artist from Australia that I'd love to get a tattoo design from - but she's not currently taking commissions ;) I have a vision of a bear and a drum. I still need to get my snakes finished, eventually, can't really put any more ink on til I finish what's on my plate. I'm going to end up taking a second job so I can complete my skin. It makes me feel unfinished, like I'm on hold waiting for what's there to come out, like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon, caught on stop-motion film.

Rob's gone to bed, I'm up playing WoW & watching people getting tattooed - and prisoners getting tattoos removed. That looks painful, too, but not in a good way. I only regret one tattoo - that stupid faery on my leg. Another eventual - a cover up. One of Coop's fat lil' devil girls. I'll have to go to Venice Beach for the cover up, since that's where the faery came from. I'm kind of glad I didn't get any dolphins or unicorns, hah.

It's funny - the other day I was thinking to myself that we've been lucky over the years - our a/c has never frozen up. I jinxed us, because this afternoon it did. It got warm in here fast but at least the weather today was more humid & stuffy than blazing hot. It was up to about 90ºF in here & it's taken it all night to come back under 80º (hey, whattya know, lj accepts alt codes, lol). It made Rob more miserable, but we whipped out the fans & he just sat on the couch in his boxers.

Edited for Ow-Fuck-Ow Factor: I just watched someone get ink injected into their EYEBALL! Ow Fuck Ow! It makes my whole head itch just thinking about it. I have a real problem with eyeballs getting messed with... That movie, Fire in the Sky, never watched it because all I had to see was the guy strapped down w/the device holding his eye open & the needle headed straight for it... I stood in front of our t.v. wanting to hide my eyes but masochistically drawn to watch in stark horror as a tattoo artist filled a hypo w/blue ink and placed a large blue spot on some guys eyeball - and then proceed to fill in some other guy's eyeball completely w/blue ink. The guy w/the all-blue eye eventually wants to get UV-ink filled into his fucking pupils! I'm going to have nightmares, I see it coming. Why would someone even think that putting a tattoo on an eyeball was a good idea?! And then talk about what might happen if the victim flinched while the hypo was being inserted? Didn't they realize I was watching and they've traumatized me for life?!


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