Obviously, there was My Tattoo, which is now on par with The Boy as in, both need to be capitalized because they're both awesome.
My Tattoo is wonderful, and pretty, and awesome in general.
I'm also happy to report that I have now found a regular tattoo artist in Tanne of Body Design Gent. What a striking difference with my very first tattoo experience!
The whole thing was just so relaxed, and I was so very comfortable that I don't hesitate to announce that all my future work (for which I have several ideas ^^) will probably been done by that very artist.
I was allowed to read and was spontaneously given smoking breaks. She explained whatever I wanted to know and was just, in general, very good at comforting nervous and needlessly-worried people, such as my humble self.
I'm very pleased with My Tattoo itself and especially love the shading, but that should get a little lighter as the excess ink *wears off* or *disappears magically* - or rather, not so magically, as my 'icky tattoo healing cotton shirt' is kind of inky now.
Tataaaa!!! Woop woop!
That's a first picture, done by The Boy with his cell phone (camera still refusing duty, have no idea what self did to offend mighty technology overlord) - more will follow after everything is healed and I am no longer forced to wear this hideous bra.
Secondly, The Boy had his tat done today, also by Tanne, and was mighty pleased as well.
It is (let's check this spelling, shall we?) Mictlantecuhtli, god of (one of the several) Aztec underworlds
I can only offer you a blurry picture of that one, since The Boy is much better at cellphone photography than I am.
Oeeeeee! Oeeeeee!!!
I LOVE the shading on it - which should also be getting lighter as the tattoo heals.
(and yes, we had chocolate milkshake. Lots of it.)
And of course, we weren't JUST sitting in a tattoo parlour for three days, we were also appartment-hunting.
As some of you may know, The Boy and I have decided to start living together as of July/August/September.
We have found something we really like and which seems extraordinarily fit for us, as it has:
+ a garden - where Evil Kitty may play and rage about at his heart's content, and we may venture to plant some flowers and enjoy drinks on cool summer evenings.
+ a seperate bedroom, something I've been dreaming of for the last two years
+ a bath tub. I swear, I died. A BATH TUB. Thank you, LORD, I knew you wouldn't forsake me.
+ lots of space
+ very very close to a bus stop which would take us to the station AND the city centre within 5 minutes.
and many more ordinary things which I crave because I am very boring.
Like a good kitchen.
The problem was, is available starting June 1st, and since my lease doesn't end till Sept. 1st, that'd be three extra months of rent.
However, it being so perfect, we offered the landlady to take it starting July. That'd give us plenty of time to move, and maybe she would take a liking to us and take it.
So, she told us to mail the agency handling everything - we called - and explain the situation.
Next day, we call first thing.
Office person tells us she'll call landlady in the afternoon, says hope-giving things (i.e. "To be honest, I just want it off my hands as quick as possible, we get so many calls that lead to nothing about it." &c) and will call back.
At six, having heard nothing, we resigned to not hearing anything till after the weekend, BUT NO!
8 o'clock, owner of agency calls, asks us for references.
Woop!
So we mailed her some numbers (The Boy's parents, my aunt, banks, current landlord, who in his guilt, promised to be nice) and she said we'd heard from her again on Monday or Tuesday.
That's good, right?
Let's all knock on wood and keep our fingers crossed!
Other than that, we've just been hounding agencies, running about all over the place &c.
So I leave you now, dear reader, with a promise of the second installment of E's Extraordinarily Eloquent Extravaganza tomorrow and a more coherent post from myself on Monday.
