tattoo

My dear husband is 33 today. (He finally caught up with me!)

When we met face to face for the first time on a super awkward coffee date at Barnes N’ Noble, I would never have guessed that we’d be married — & expecting twins— a mere 4 years later.

It’s been a bumpy road at times, and we’ve certainly mastered the art of “bickering like an old married couple”, but I can’t imagine being with anyone else. Sorry Michael, but unless you have other plans, I’m afraid we have many, many more years of driving each other crazy ahead of us. Till death do us part, right? Mwahahahaha

With warmer weather comes less clothing. Less clothing results in more bared skin. And for me, bared skin means the urge to cover it up… with colorful tattoos.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been super pale. I mean PALE. Ghost-like. I’d like to blame it on my Welsh heritage, but really, I’m just not a big fan of the sun. I can’t remember a time when I’ve actually had an actual tan. It’s either brutal, lobster-like sunburns, or nothing. Thanks, sun. [read more…]