So, WAY back at the beginning of this blog, I stated that I fully intended to get a tattoo. I showed the drawing, I discussed it in some detail. I explained what it was all about. And then that little intention fell off the face of the earth. Lack of balls? Nah, lack of money. Until 20 Nov 2006. Yes, last Monday. I got it. I went in, with my Mama, and got my tattoo. I wish my sister could have been here, and gotten hers with me, but we will take her in to get it done soon, when she is here in April.
'Did it hurt?' you might ask. I'd have to say the answer is somewhere in between "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!!?" and "At least I didn't punch anybody out." I had two breaks to get up, walk around, get the circulation back in my bottom lip which I bit to keep still.
Mig was very professional. He asked if I had any questions, and I said not about tattoos themselves. They are self-explanatory. But, I was curious about the sterility of the process, and how risky is it for me to get something as a result of this. He told me they use a new needle for each customer, the device/needles are not "disposable" but are sterilized in a machine called an autoclave. The thing gets inspected every few weeks to ensure it is functioning properly. He wore gloves, used alcohol to sterilize my back first, and was the utmost in tidy. Mig is a friend of my friend Shonna, whom I have mentioned before. I have extremely high respect for Shonna, and I know that her group of friends, every single bloody one of them I have met, are all very high quality individuals. Mig is no different. Although the tattoo studio where I got this thing done looked very much like you would suspect - very brightly colored, pumping in loud rap music with a lot of heavily pierced and tattooed individuals working there - walls lined with stylized tattoo-type images of everything from tits to dragons to tribal pointy-spiky designs to flowers and butterflies to Harley Davidsons. None of that was on my agenda though. Mig has no tattoos on his arms, neck, chest, face, or back. He said he does have some on his legs, however I didn't see them to know how many or of what. He's very articulate, and due to us both having had children around the same time, was very curious about my experiences parenting, going through childbirth, and so on. His wife is lovely.
The chatting took about an hour, plus the placement of the design on my back with a sort of "fake tattoo" type paper thingie of my design. I had to have him wipe it off and start over twice to get it just so. Evidently my back is kinda lopsided, because although it is where it should be, it looks a bit not quite straight. But it's me, not the tattoo.
The actual tattooing took about an hour and a little bit. He outlined it first, then drew some areas thicker according to the design. It did feel like a cat dragged a claw around my back for about an hour. It was not pleasant. Several times I couldn't continue talking or answering questions. My mom filled in the gaps though. :-) When it was done, it felt immeasurably better than having it done did. Afterward, it felt like a bad sunburn. I kept the bandage on all night, which SUCKED worse than the tattoo felt after I took it off. I don't recommend leaving it on.
Now, it is almost done with its scabbing/sluffing business. It's almost flat (it was very raised for a few days). So here it is:
It is in the center of my back, but above the bra strap, rather than below. Still easily concealable, yet not so much so that nobody will ever see it besides my husband. I catch a glimpse of it or look at it in the mirror, and cannot believe it is MY back upon which this design is permanently inked. It's very strange-feeling. I love it, but it's weird. I don't know if that makes sense.