I have been noodling with the idea of getting some cool, small, unobtrusive tattoo. My sister threatened to remove it herself if I ever did, so I decided to get my hair cut instead.
My sister means no offense to anyone with a tatt. Go cousin Marie - hotter than hot new mother with a great head on her shoulders! Who knew?! Seen only if shown. Love it. She's got hetero women rethinking their status and EVERYONE JUST LOVES HER. She's edgy and cool. And a secret body graphic suits her. Maybe I'm just not cool enough.
It's all my running friend, Judith's fault. She's a 40-something 8-time (and counting ) marathoner. She's also a Master's Degree holding teacher with long blond hair and Ivory-girl skin. Her small, peace sign tatt just by her left shoulder peaked out and winked at me during a long summer run.
I know that...
- For intents and purposes - a tattoo is permanent. Like having a child. You better be darn sure and not lube up with tequila before the act.
- Regret closely chases the ink needle and often catches up. Once again, you better be darn sure.
- The wrong, size, the wrong image and the wrong location can make you celibate for life and keep you from your dream job.
- Aging tatts can't be pretty. Sort of like my neck right now.
- This example may unleash edginess in your offspring.
I guess a haircut for now is enough. Next I'll wax my brows and then my betty. I'll put the tatt off a bit.
Here it is. The haircut, not my betty.