Don't you just hate it?

When you cook something that should, in theory, be lovely, but in reality tastes like nothing much at all? Perhaps if I'd added alot of salt...but the damage is done now.

The last week or so has been rather topsy-turvy. We started the week with great plans and it all went downhill fron there. Jo had a "team-bonding" day on Tuesday, which ended up with her getting a nasty bronchial infection. We've taken this rather seriously as a good friend of mine has just spent 3 days in hospital after she started coughing up blood (she said the first couple of days was great because she could just sit and read - can you tell she has 3 kids?). So this slightly buggered our plans to get some house painting done on Friday. Then I discovered that the Lower Hutt Charity Tattoo convention was being held over the weekend.

Now, I've never been to a tattoo convention and I had strong suspicions that any such event in the Lower Hutt (think Bromley/Croydon, only much smaller scale) woudl be less than enthralling, but there's a young lady tattooist from Auckland who was going to be present. This was somewhat surprising as I thought she was in Edinburgh or London or Amsterdam, and it turns out she was equally surprised to be there. Jo, in an act of borderline self-flagellation, agreed that we could go along for a look on Saturday.

We turned up unfashionably early at 10.30am to find the local town/horticultural hall filled with a grand total of 30 or so stands, filled with many a hairy-arsed biker type. As always Ben turned on the charm and was wooing the locals and non-locals alike. Plus, he got to sample a fair amount of free popcorn and get his first helium balloon. Nice work son. Anyway, after much, much hanging about I finally spoke the aforementioned tattoo lady, who was extremely busy with "walk-ins". And what did I say?

"I've got a couple of hours free tomorrow afternoon, can you fit me in?"...what do I want, I dunno, whatever you feel like..."



Slightly stunned by my brainfart, I turned to see Jo looking at me slightly askance. And fair enough.

So the next day Jo went off to spend the day on a Guide Leaders' training course, Ben went to spend a couple of hours with the dads and I went to get tattooed.

Before this, however, I had a slight panic about the fact that I'd been so recklessly wanton with my choice of "whatever", and so I frantically tried to get hold of tattoo lady to suggest a design. No joy getting anyone to answer the phone at the town hall, I decided I would try the number for the event organiser in the hope that they coudl pass on a message. Tattoo Stu did indeed answer his mobile and it turned out he was live on stage at the convention and he happily, and much to my shame, had tattoo lady dragged to the stage so I could talk to her. Yet more proof that I will NEVER be cool. Never ever.

So now I have the outline of a lovely tattoo that will be finished off in February when tattoo lady will be working for a week in a studio in Wellington.

Oh yeah, and yesterday I had the random vomits. But I'm pretty certain the two are not related.