Facebook ever so nicely reminded me that eight years ago today I got my first tattoo.
My first issue was – EIGHT YEARS AGO OMG I’M SO OLD.
My second was the picture …
OH the nerves. The (dirty) flared jeans. The super fake blonde highlights. The stupid blue top I used to wear all the time. The fake nails. The tanning bed tan. The chubby cheeks. Ohhhh all the things.
But anyways, after seeing that post this morning, it prompted me to talk about my tattoos quick. I love tattoos – on me and on other people. I think they’re a form of expression and even the worst tattoos have a story. And if you know me at all, I’m ALLLLLLL about a good story. Like how absolutely crazy nervous I was getting this first tattoo when I was 20.
Not awkward at all …
Anyways, I always knew *where* on my body I wanted to get a tattoo (my left hip), but I never knew what I wanted. Well, I found this pretty musical type thing on Facebook one day and knew immediately I wanted that tattooed. Of course now, everyone and their mother has this tattoo, but I WAS FIRST. (That’s what I tell myself) I’ve always loved music – whether it was singing (I started a band in grade school on the playground called Cun Cet City. Yes, I spelled it with all Cs) or playing my flute/piccolo or just listening to music. It’s always been my thing. So I printed out the picture and brought it into Paul up there to have him needle it on my body. The picture actually printed with a weird red lining to it and Paul thought that was cool, so he added red to my tattoo as well (which is fine with me – red is my favorite color). Even though I don’t sing or dance or play my flute anymore, I still love this tattoo. I don’t have great photos – I didn’t want to take new ones today. This was taken 8 years ago – so don’t mind the tummy, or the crazy belly button ring. 😉
Then about two years ago, I got my second tattoo. I waited forever to get this tattoo – I knew exactly where I wanted it (on my ribs) and what I wanted it of (a Shakespeare quote) but I kept waiting until I “hit my goal weight”. Finally I gave up on that and got the tattoo done thinking the extra fat would make it hurt less.
I WAS VERY WRONG.
(Taken two years ago when I got it.)
Rib tattoos are the WORST. Even my super masculine tattoo artist (I don’t have a pic of this one) said that the ribs hurt the most on him, too. My friend Saige was with and was trying to ask me questions and finally I was like, “Saige … I can’t talk. I can’t formulate sentences.” She said it looked like I was in labor. BUT it only took about 15-minutes and I was outta there. Of course, I had a slight panic attack because I thought he spelled fierce wrong (he didn’t, I was just delusional from the pain) so we walked to the bar next door and had a rather large alcoholic beverage.
And now I’m contemplating getting another one, because WHY NOT. Maybe in Hawaii … (Michelle and I may have something up our sleeves.)
Do you have any tattoos?
Do you like tattoos or are you not really a tattoo person? To each their own!