...is what I usually exclaim when I'm taken a bit by surprise by one of my tattoos. Bells wanted to hear about other people's tattoos, so here is the story of mine.
When I was in school, I managed to earn a reputation as a sweet, innocent, naive person. I dressed conservatively, got pretty good grades, and was involved in a lot of activities. I also look about four years younger than I really am. So, yeah. I had a reputation for being a goody-goody, which is a little funny, because I swore and stayed out late and wasn't actually a goody-goody. I just wasn't into the whole drinking and drugs scene and that pretty much sealed my fate.
Momolla and I ended up at the Atlantic City boardwalk on a semi-annual trip and wandered past a tattoo parlor. We were entranced by the signs, one of which read, "A cheap tattoo ain't good and a good tattoo ain't cheap!" And another one that pointed out, "Yes, it's going to hurt!" Well, at least they were being honest. We talked about tattoos a bit and how we'd each always wanted one, then kept walking away.
The next summer, we walked past the same shop, and decided that, yeah, we were gonna get some tattoos! I don't think we had really done much research of planning, Mom and I just looked at each other and decided to do it. Mom ended up with a chain of flowers around her ankle, and I chose a music note and a rose on my left hip. The picture on the left is the least-crummy one I could manager to take. This is the one I sometimes forget about, as it's almost always covered by my pants or an ugly work uniform. It's given me a new test for buying pants; if more than just the top of the rose is visible, they're cut too low. I love the location of this one, so very few people know about it. It makes me feel a little rebellious and grown up, too. And, yeah, a little sexy, when just the top part is peeking out of a pair of good jeans. And I like feeling like I've managed to shake the whole sweet and innocent thing just a little. Oh, yeah... It hurt. But it was worth it. The pain is so weird, because as soon as the pen is lifted off your skin, the hurting stops.
About two months after our first round of tattoos, Mom and I went back for more. These really are addictive. For my second tattoo, I chose something more visible, but still very feminine and un-offensive. After all, I'm stuck with it, and most corporate places frown on visible tattoos. This one is actually on the base of my hand, right above the bones in my wrist. It hurt so much more than the first, because the whole tattoo is inked over a lot of bones, and there's not much flesh there to cushion it. This is the one people see, and they often ask me if it's real. They then feel obligated to touch it to confirm my answer that, yes, I did get a tattoo. It's a good thing it isn't a fake, it would rub off pretty quickly!
And those are my tattoos. Nothing too racy, nothing scary. I like to think they're feminine and pretty. Jim doesn't really want me to get any more, so I'm holding off for now. There are a few more I'd like to get in the future, though, before everything starts sagging and stretching.
In other news, we finally caught the guy who was stealing at work. Boy, was he punished, too--he's on paid suspension. So, he admitted to stealing a whole lot of stuff, and he gets paid for the hours he was scheduled for without coming into work. Somehow, "stealing is wrong" doesn't seem to be the moral of this story. "Go ahead and steal, we'll send you on vacation" feels a little closer. Ah, well. There's nothing I can do, and at least he can't steal from us if he's not there. Maybe they'll fire him eventually, when he steals more stuff from us.
In knitting news, I've come up with a wonderful rationalization for the lopsided scarf. I'm going to tell people it's wider in the middle to wrap around the neck better, and narrower on the ends to tuck into a jacket more easily. Sounds pretty plausible, no? Also, I've started the heel flap on the bribe sock. It's so soft and pretty, I'm looking forward to it being done.
Time to go pretend to be productive some more. I love lazy weekends off, it almost makes up for all the customers who ask if I live at my store.