Physical pain and I have never gotten along well; If I could still sit on my mom's lap during shots I would gladly. With that being said, I have always admired people with tattoos. A few years ago during a family dinner while discussing my sister's various tattoos, my Dad referred to tattoos and piercings as "self mutilation," as I'm sure many other people would agree. I think at the time I agreed with him.
One early day in January this year my sister asked me if I was finally going to get one of my own. I called up a local tattoo parlor in Seattle to make a consultation appointment, not knowing if I was going to go through with it. After 30 minutes of sketching and discussing I was in the chair getting inked up. A small black-etched fleur de lis now resides on my left wrist, a part of me forever. Looking back, it's what I would call a calculated spur of the moment decision. Would I do it again? Maybe. It really did hurt. I had told myself that I would never do it... and now I'm in the club.
This semester I'm taking a Writing for Online Media class that requires me to keep a blog- another thing that I told myself I would never do, for various reasons. So far, it's not so bad. I don't know if I will blog for the required four months or until I'm on my death bed, shoot I might just get "The Little Bitch" tattooed eloquently somewhere on me someday. I guess 2010 will be my year of firsts: tattoos, blogs, and who knows what else.
Toys of the 90's
4 years ago