To the Power of Four

Sometimes much can be said with little.  For instance:

Possibly the four most terrifying words one can hear - "We need to talk."  Those four words can strike terror into the stoutest heart!

Four powerfully uplifting words - "How can I help?"

Four words that will garner instant adoration from almost anyone - "I made some bacon."

What words or phrases are especially meaningful for you?

Thoughtfetti

With apologies to Robert Frost...something there is that does not love a charger cable.  Good cables make happy devices.  My devices, particularly my phone, are not happy.  Not just mine - darned near every cable in this house is cantankerous.  We can't keep them functioning around here.  Children are hard on charger cords and lose bricks left and right, and this leaves me wondering where mine went when they borrow 'em from me.  Somewhere, someone is making a fortune off of my family as I buy more cables with the hopes that maybe they'll last out the year.  Sigh.  I hope they enjoy their vacation home.
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I have never kissed a clean shaven man.

That thought popped into my head a few days ago, and made me giggle because it is apropos of nothing, but I can't seem to get it out of my head.
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Another thought I can't seem to be shed of - it is impossible to sneeze in your sleep.  Just try to unlearn or forget that.  Betcha can't.
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The band I'm in is getting back into a practice schedule in preparation for the coming season.  We'll be at Phoenix Phyre in March and May Moon Madness in May.  We're waiting to hear from our usual June event.  I hope we have a few more performances this year.  I like to sing.  It feels good.
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Depression is most unkind.  I'm trying to keep ahead of it right now with little success.  Still, because I'm trying not to sink any further into the bogs, I've been working in my sewing room.  I've done inventory of my sarongs and clothing and now have lists of what I would like to order, what I'd like to sew,  and a couple of ideas for new (to me) designs.  I also pulled what I have on hand to sew into clothing so I can maybe get a jump on it instead of waiting until the last minute.  It will help me feel productive.  I could use that.
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For more than a week I've been able to wear shorts both inside and outside Casa de Crazy.  In January.  Shorts.  Crazy.
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In a few weeks I'm going on a cruise with Mom, and I'm looking forward to it.  The kids, cats, and Casa will have to do without me for ten days while I learn some new quilting techniques and drift around the Caribbean with a passle of other quilters.  For a change, I'm looking forward to February.
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How are you doing?

Ink

I have tattoos.

Six of them.

I want more.

Many, many more.

There is something addictive in tattoo ink, I'm almost certain.  Ever since the first buzzing zing of the needles on my skin, I have wanted more, bigger, better.

Each of my tattoos has meaning to me - I don't just get ink for the sake of ink.  Each of the tattoos I'd like to get has meaning to me.  I am patient.  I can wait.  I prefer to ponder my ink art for a while, to be certain it's what I really want indelibly placed just beneath my skin surface to blaze out for all to see for the rest of my life.

I have a routine, when it comes to being inked.  When I find a design that I like, that resonates with me, I will think about it for a year, at least.  It's not a whim, for me.

It is sacred.

On her last cruise, my mother found a symbol that struck me to the core, and lately I have been noodling with ideas for a tattoo design.  It will have to wait, to ferment, to percolate, because tattooing isn't cheap, and I need to be sure.  Meanwhile, I have a few other ideas on the back burner.

Why bring this up?

Because I crave ink.

I spent about an hour this evening perusing designs and daydreaming about where to put them, and from whom to get them.

I'm going to need a lottery win to fund all the ink I want.

Are you tattooed?  What do you have, where, and why?  If not, do you want to be?