During the randomness that IS my life, I decided that I would join the growing ranks of those inhabitents of the tattoo kingdom. It took me two years to build up the Courage (with a captital c no less) that I would need (and to decide on what I actually wanted), but I did it. See? Well, you can't... see, it's really hard to take a decent picture of the small of your back. Seriously... try it.
Anywho, I'll have my friend or my guy take a picture of it when it heals. It's still red around the lettering (well, I did get it yesterday), and I've been told tales of peeling, the eeetching and the scraaatching, and that I should wait two weeks for the full effect. Great advice guys.
It felt like a really really wet and pissed off cat was trying to murder me. As slowly and painfully as possible. All those big tough guys that say it doesn't hurt and that it's not that bad? They're ALL lying. Through their big manly-men teeth. It's death by needle. Ok, not that bad. I didn't cry. That pillow they let me hug? He's gonna have some stories to tell. I'm actually quite proud of myself. Ladies, trust me. This is not fun. Worth it, perhaps. Fun... no.
I got the motto "Multum in Parvo" which is latin for Much in a Little. Literally Much in little. It's all in the translation. I took latin for three years and checked the phrasing twenty-million times- who wants to put some messed up crap on their body? Anywho, it fits me- I am quite tiny (both height and width wise) and hey, I have to believe that there is something in me. I think it's mostly a self-esteem reminder... not that I'm full of it or anything... I'm becoming incoherent. It's late, and I was up at a party last night... and tonight. God... college.... homework.... death by stress.... :-) and Good Night!
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