Did. Had.

Yesterday was a day of celebration, arrival, and birth.
The celebration of Matt's birthday.
The arrival of Victoria to New York.
And the birth of a new look for my arm.

After Matt finally woke up from his nude slumber.... we made our way to Tribeca to see a film in the Romanian Film Festival.
It was called Hooked (Pescuit sportiv).
The description on the website was this:
An ordinary couple is about to have a life changing experience. After causing a car accident in which a young prostitute is left dead, the woman asks the man to keep everything a secret. However, the prostitute is very much alive and she’s ready to confront them, no matter what. Hooked’s naturalistic, handheld visual style complements the psychological complexity of the screenplay.

Hmmm.... well....
No where in there does it say that the whole film is shot in POV (point of view).
But not just one POV..... several POVs.
It was kinda dizzying and confusing but held my interest even after some dude doing the intro to the film talked for damn near 15 minutes explaining why and how the film could have been better and sorta giving away the ending.

Made my way back to Brooklyn to "mentally prepare" myself for the next step on the to do list.
Tattoo.
At 5pm I took this photo. A sorta "before" photo.
At 8pm......
At 830pm.....
9pm......
Victoria arrived at the shop and we were off to Brooklyn.
Little buddy showed up with the Rooster for tea time.
And then the birthday storm rolled in.
Off the wall, insane, happy, loud, angry, destructive, birthday master and his entourage of angry girls.
No idea what actually happened before those girls got here (or who they even were for that matter) but they were pissed, yelling, and for some reason in my room. haha
After a 15 minute blow out, they all left.
Matt was somehow still in extremely high spirits and continued to do pull ups in between breaths of really terrible French phrases. He would do one, then let himself drop down into this angry, Wolverine attack mode type of position. Over and over and over.
Until finally his weight and stomping broke the floor.
Well not like the whole floor.... like the trim and the tiles directly connected to it.

Either way....
good night for matt.
good night for me.
good night for victoria (???)
good night for the floor (not really though)

And today....
let the healing begin.