I had a consult with a tattoo artist to finally, FINALLY get some cover-up work done on the truly terrible, highly regrettable J-A-S-O-N ink on my back left hip. Remember that? If not, yeah. I got my boyfriend's name tattoo'ed offset tramp-stamp style when I was 19 years old. Classaaaayyyyy.
While I still like the guy very much, I really hate the tattoo. It was poorly done, embarrassing almost immediately (I mean, WHO DOES THAT? Besides impulsive and slightly tipsy 19-year-old girls away at college whose roommate is getting a daisy on her ankle oh wait okay never mind), and now it's 20 years old and completely warped and faded -- and annoyingly visible enough over my pants' waistline and two-piece bathing suits.
I thought about just getting it removed, but always decided against that. It was a stupid thing to get done, but just like getting married less than a year later at 20 years old was ALSO not typically considered the greatest of ideas...we did defy a whole heapload of odds to remain married and happy this many years later. The tattoo has always felt kind of tied to that, and "erasing" it just never appealed to me.
You'll have to wait until late next month to see the new work, since it'll be completely custom and the artist is crazy booked up. I'm excited though! It'll be what tattoos should be -- something deeply meaningful that I've thought about for a good long time. A tattoo I'd get even without the need to cover something else up.
While I was there, though, I did get something small done. Something I feel like I've also wanted to get done FOR AGES, even though in reality, it's been since February. But oh dear God, how long ago does February seem these days? I've aged 80 million years since then.
(Design by Chelsea Brink of Minneapolis, execution by Red Thorn Tattoo in Baltimore. The design is free to use, she just asks that you make a donation to a women's rights organization of your choice. I chose Planned Parenthood. The tattoo took barely five minutes to complete so it's perfect for wussies.)
I never thought I'd be a super-visible tattoo placement sort of person, and certainly never planned on taking the plunge at 39 damn years old (with words from Mitch McConnell's mouth, for chrissakes!), but this is an odd time, when lots of things I "never thought" would happen...well, happened, or are frighteningly possible. This, at least, was something that made me feel a bit better, and a lot stronger. Don't ever stop talking, fighting, trying. Don't ever get complacent or take things for granted, or expect other people to do the work on your behalf.
History has its eyes on all of us, as do our children.
Nolite te bastardes carborundorum, bitches.