Aaaaaaaaaaaaand my tat got blogged about by the artist himself. Not the tattoo artist, the art artist. And Mr. A dropped me a cordial e-mail on the subject, too. Sunshine and puppies over here, Internet.

Sera herself is a great scabby mess right now. And the scabs have started to come off so she looks a bit like she's disintegrating after having been turned to stone by Lord Voldemort. But the response has nonetheless been overwhelmingly positive all over town and continues to be so. I am having random "new tattoo?" conversations just as frequently as the random "which Potter are you on?" conversations that I've been having for the past month. Boy I talk to a lot of strangers about my life. (Just in case you thought that only happened in blog-form.) I wrote an extremely lengthy decompress on the subject of tattooing last night in my journal and, because I am a coy bitch, I shall not reiterate it here. Except to say that I'm fairly confident that this is the single best thing I've done for myself since 2003.

I had a late recording session last night for City Surf, so I booked today to work from home. Why commute when you can sleep right up until 8:30? Perfect day for it too; warm and sunny with a pleasant breeze. I ran a network line down to the living room, made tea, opened the windows, took meetings via telecommunicative devices, and generally enjoyed myself. And watched 7 episodes of E.R. while I worked, from back before the show sucked. I'm cool that way. You know, like when Ewan McGregor was on it that one time, or when Omar Epps jumped in front of the subway. I was in my second year of film school when season three of E.R. was on the air, and the show was the perfect metaphor for just how freaked out I was, all the time.

Hey guess what! Extreme Steve vol. 3 starts tomorry. I'm very excited.