ahoy matey!

I am an aunt once again! My sister J. and her partner D. had a bouncing baby girl. All are well thankfully. Congratulations! I want pictures!

And now for something completely different:

I remembered the name of the club in Boston with the dungeon. It was called Quest. I only went there once in 93 or 94, and I was with Donna at the time. I’ve been on a psychobilly kick for a few days now since I made the mariner’s star. Here’s a shot of it:

I have been listening to mostly punk rock lately as an outlet for my frustration of my lack of companionship. I should try not to place too much importance on codependence. It’s just difficult after being alone for so long. I’m sick of it. The psychobilly music reminded me of s&m, I wrote something about my fear of it in a previous post. Then I realized tonight on the way to electrolysis that I am somewhat masochistic in that I have paid for close to four years of ritual pain sessions. I guess what separates me from a true masochist is that I don’t like pain. Feeling no pain is certainly better. I think my pain threshold has been steadily decreasing. She cleared everything in 88 minutes today. The last time was 117 minutes. Things got extra excruciating around my lips, I even had the pleasure of hearing some of them sizzle. Those usually make me shudder uncontrollably. I can’t believe I am almost finished. I should be completely finished by October. Nobody should have to go through that much pain. The health insurance should cover novacane or some other pain management treatment, anything better than emla. It’s inhumane. I think my skin has built up a tolerance to emla. Just about every one is in varying degrees painful. My razor’s days are numbered. I plan on throwing it off my balcony to the tracks below and let the tram run it over. I feel like the life has been sucked out of me tonight, so I’m gonna hit the sack