My Mother told me when I was just barely old enough to understand what a tattoo was that if I ever got one while living under her roof she would scrub it off with an SOS pad. Sort of like a home version of dermabrasion. If you knew my Mother you would know this was not an idle threat. My Father had a tattoo that was horribly done. He got while overseas with the Navy. It was supposed to have Mom's name under it but there were not even enough letters. It was a very good example of why you should not get tattooed while drunk in a foreign country in the company of enlisted men. I am happy to say I have never done this.
At first I would never have dreamed of getting a tattoo. That changed when I got my belly button pierced at 17. Mom was in San Antonio with Aunt B and Grandma so I decided it was safe to go about teenage rebellion. I went to Modern Primitives with J's cousin Christy and J's brother's then girlfriend. Christy and I are very close so of course I wanted her to come while I inflicted pain on myself. Plus Christy has three tattoos and at one time four piercings. I figured why not have a veteran in my corner. Well "girlfriend" got pierced first. No problems at all. Took all of sixty seconds and looked great. I went next and was not so lucky. My skin is extra tough so he had a really hard time getting the needle through. (I lovingly refer to my dermal covering Rhino hide.) He had to punch it to get it to work and the third time it finally went. I jumped so hard I thought I was going to flip backwards over the chair. The words that came out of my mouth were far from ladylike. Now would be the time to mention I have a very low tolerance for pain. I also feel that that which causes me pain ought to share in it. Christy grabbed my arm about a second before my fist connected with the poor guy.
After about an hour it felt fine. No pain or anything. That would the plus to having really thick skin. Personally I did not think it looked all that cool. Then again I had to stare at it upside down. J is never a good source for opinions so I didn't rely on him to give me feedback. The problems began later that day. I seem to have a habit of smoothing my short down over my stomach. Every time I would do this my hand would catch the top of the jewelry and pull it down. A tiny tear began to develop at the top of the piercing. Two days of that and I had had enough. So I quit and took it out. I did tell Mom but quickly added that it was already gone. She was stunned that her pantie waist of a daughter let someone come near her with a needle.
What does this have to do with a tattoo? I'm getting there.
I thought that since piercing is so very out, lets try a different avenue. The week I turned eighteen Christy took me out to get my first tattoo.
Notice how Christy is always around during these little rites of passage? Well she earned it since I saw her through two of her tattoos that she might not have gotten had I not been around to encourage her. I am such a bad little monkey.
I decided on a triquetra on the base of my spine. (which is a symbols in many cultures including Celtic and christian. Three interwoven pieces form a triangle that represents the three aspects of existence, birth-life-death, triune goddess, or God- Holy Spirit-Jesus. A circle for everlasting life / life cycle. Really it means something different to so many people because so many cultures adopted it and who know who got it first.) Surprisingly I did good, no tears or whining except for when I forgot to breathe and almost threw up. Tattoos are not so much horribly painful as they are annoying. It felt more like a million fire ants chewing on me than actual needles stabbing tiny holes filled with ink. Sounds charming huh?
I asked for it to be green and black but Mister Tattoo Guy decided my body was his temple to play with. When I got to see it in the mirror it was black, green, orange, and yellow. Imagine my surprise. I paid $200 dollars for him to exercise creative rights on my body. It is really pretty and I like it. I just wish he had asked me first. Like the piercing my tattoo did not hurt at all about thirty minutes after it was done. I slept on my back that night and never felt any different.
Mom said "At least you got something pretty and not tweety bird." No dermabrasion, Yay!
Personally I think that tattoos should mean something to you or else they are pointless. Unless you are Hugh Hefner's girlfriend or were playmate of the year, avoid the bunny.
Six months later I got some tribal work done on the left and right sides of my lower back to kind of add to it. I am done with tattoos. Sure there are ones I would like but I just do not think I could pull off the heavily modified look. In theory I would like a roman scale for my mother who is a Libra on the back of my right shoulder and a roman numeral IV on the inside of my left wrist for my husband who is the ___ J. ____ IV. Something for my son would also be nice, but I do not see those ever being actually transferred from my brain to my body. I am happy with things the way they are.
I do not regret my choice. Most people never even see it. The few who do are shocked that I have it. I am not sure why this is so shocking to them. J hated it for a long time but has since come around and finds it sexy. I told him it was a good thing since neither it nor I were going anywhere soon.
<-------- There she is.
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