april
I got another tattoo at the start of the month. Even though it's my most obvious piece of work, going from wrist to elbow, it feels the most like it was meant to be there than any others have before. I don't think it's just that it's a rocket. But maybe it is.
I'm on a bit of a down at the moment. I feel very insecure. I worry about my speech patterns and my weight. I worry I'm not very interesting, or funny, or clever. I worry I look frumpy and misshapen.
I don't worry about my Rocket. She's learning to walk. She clicks her new teeth together and can point out her tummy and nose and face. She can pull a plug out of a sink, dry her face on a towel, and switch off lights. She takes herself off to read in a corner. I taught her how to shrug innocently and grin. She puts her arms around my neck and squeezes and kisses me. She also hugs toys and strange children.
Things aren't so bad. It was a bad weekend though, even though I did nice things and saw Iron Man 3 and it passed the Bechdel Test.
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