The newest addition to myself. I got it this afternoon. It’s on my left side, on my ribs. I did so well, no flinching, no crying, nothing. The touch up of the other one, my star, hurt the worst. It no longer looks “antiqued.”
Tired. We’ll chat again tomorrow.
For the record, I want to be somebody’s missed connection on Craigslist. You know, or maybe you don’t, that people always post random things….(it was a topic of discussion during my tattoo-inking). I browse them sometimes, because I always need more things to do when I’m procrastinating….but then I found one. It doesn’t apply to me, but it made me think that maybe someday I’ll have a shot at being someone’s.
Posted March 6, it said, “Chicago Misses You” and then “The title says it all.”
Cute, right? Some lucky girl and perhaps some wistful, hoping man. I wonder how many people actually get the right person. But you’re right, Craigslist is creepy.
Sleep sweet world. Know that I am going to enjoy corned beef and cabbage for breakfast tomorrow. Delicious. My green fingernail-ed self will love it, I guarantee.
It was really nice to see the family tonight. I love everyone. Uncle Mike and Aunt Jan (always make me laugh….you were right, Uncle Mike, it was a bad hair day). Juanita and Marshall (with two Ls). Brian. Aunts Sally and Joan. Grandma. And Mom of course. Missed Fruit, but I’ll see him tomorrow.
EDIT: It’s 5:28 and I can’t sleep. So I thought I’d address something. Katie and I were talking about this the other day, actually, so it’s something that comes up a lot. Without fail, people seem to always want to know what your tattoo “means.” For my nautical star (arguably the most popular tattoo in the world), I simply say, I like stars. For my ohm, I’ll be saying the exact same thing. (Well not “I like stars,” exactly) Except it has a deeper meaning, obviously. As does the star. The star represents me in my youth. My restless, rebel self. The ohm is me searching, the solidification of my obsession with threes and the representation of their presence in my life. But you didn’t need to know that.
So in short, yes I know I have two of the most popular tattoos in the world. It’s not that I’m incapable of coming up with something else creative (I do hope that I demonstrate a certain level of creativity in my everyday life), it’s that I got what I want and when I’m eighty (and not old, just to clarify), they won’t mean anything different than they mean now. They’re inked time capsules reminding me of my life, in a way.
Also, while I understand that everyone has choices and thinks certain aesthetic elements are attractive, I will always keep my body art on my torso. I want to be able to wear a strapless or backless gown and have all of my tattoos/piercings be invisible. I want to wear a one piece bathing suit (I fear I’m getting to that point anyway) and not have them show. I want to be able to wear a suit, any sort of professional attire, open toed shoes, sandals, etc and not have tattoos hanging out. I’m going to be a tattooed mother someday but you’ll never know it.
At the Oscar’s (which I watched like an hour of), George Clooney’s hot new girlfriend’s dress displayed the popular-in-the-90s band-around-the-arm-tattoo. Not so hot now. A distraction.
At least one day I’ll probably not even be able to find mine due to wrinkles and/or body fat. (Typing that sentence out isn’t as funny as when I say it out loud, but trust me, the prospect makes me laugh.) I’m staying away from small detail, color and anything else that has the potential to do anything but exactly what I want it to.
Again, have a beautiful day and hope I heal soon. I hate not being able to sleep on my left side.