A couple of years ago, I did something bold, out of my comfort zone, unexpected – and yes- bad ass.
My sister, my cousin and I decided to get branded together. Tattoos all around! And because we’re wild and matchy matchy – we all wanted the same thing. We worked for months to find the image – and agreed on 3 stars. (I’m sure I thought of it. I always think of it. Don’t tell them that.)
The stars would represent the 3 of us (is what I told them). The stars would represent my family (is what I told my husband and kids). You probably live a life of honesty, without lies and deception, good for you.
So we went to this hardcore, dark, gritty tattoo place in a strip mall next to a Subway and got them. Then we went to a nice mexican restaurant and had guacamole. Sorry – where was I…
They both decided to get them on the back of their shoulder. I went with my right foot.
Whenever I tell this story – people get really excited – and then there’s the inevitable letdown. It’s small people. My tattoo is really small, but it’s exactly what I wanted. And, by the way, I’ve seen people with tattoos this small. Tell me you’ve never seen a teardrop by someone’s eye? A gang symbol you say? Hmm.
Once in a while I’ll catch someone with a bigger tattoo (that’s everyone else with a tattoo) giving me the stank eye. It’s like I’m in a yacht race in a canoe. Whatever. It still counts.
I’m thinking about getting another one, and who knows, it may be even smaller than this one.
For your protection I didn’t photography my whole foot. I’m between pedicures and also my foot looks like a paddle.