Oh, year end.
General synopsis as follows. Started the new year by nearly cutting off my fingertip at work, grandmother died, moved out of apartment due to threats on life, finally got my baby, went to Seattle again, bowled a lot, broke up with Michael, grilled a lot, people watched, busted face on bike, spent five weeks in apartment, flew to Florida, drove back up, half-married David, but then he left, went to Maine, saw my most favorite musician (Alexander Turnquist), bought a lot of beer, life was a mess, got palms tattooed, first Dia de los Muertos with Mem, Best Fwends play in Pawtucket, life gets kind of better, ate a lot of clementines, had Thanksgiving with Matt/Anthony/Asa, busted knees on escalator at mall, farewell dinner with Matt/Anthony/Asa/Zach/Jackie, sleeping alone a lot, hair got long, snowed a lot, new lenses on camera, Christmas with Ginsberg, said goodbye to Anthony, spent all day today with Mullen. You know, a lot of stuff not mentioned. There's also some dude who is important to me but doesn't like pictures taken of him so I will just have to act like he does not exist for purposes of this "2008 in pictures" post because the only picture I have of him is his fucking ear and a ton of blankets.
And, as if you didn't see my face enough in these, this is what I look like as of today.
And those are some beautiful cans.
Man, looking back, I got a fuck ton of (mostly dumb) tattoos this year. Started with my piece for my grandmother, then supernatural bologna, then the key to another world, then nervous wreckage, killerawesomebestever apple/jawbreaker palms, then Lee Marvin, and today Orson Welles. If I keep at this pace, I'll be fucking covered in 12 months. Should probably ...slow down.