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What did you guys do today? Me, I didn't do anything very special. Went to class, wrote a test, and oh yeah GOT A FUCKING TATTOO.
I made the appointment about three weeks ago, and even though I got there late today- because I got on the wrong bus again, damn Gerald you're really not all there- it all went really well. The tattoo artist is a lovely old man (he likes Michael Moore!) who kept calling me "dear," which usually bothers me but didn't today because I was really, really nervous. And kind of shaky.
I shouldn't have been! It barely hurt- at worst it felt like a very, very strong itch. Definitely not as bad as getting blood drawn. And- and- Jesus Christ I have a tattoo. Kerrin, you need to show Mum. She will Go Spare.
One of my first memories- not my very first, that's of my second birthday when I got two troll dolls on my birthday cake and I wanted to keep the girl one but Keggie got to keep that one, how unfair is THAT, it was MY birthday!- is of being a little kid in a park in the middle of the city. It was a rainy day and someone had left an umbrella on a picnic table. I'd seen umbrellas on television and in the movies before, but no one in my family ever had one. We still don't, really. So I was fascinated by this weird little device, and I wanted to see how it opened up, and I shoved my hand inside.
It turned out it was really sharp and rusty and I cut my fingers, but I still got it to open up.
Umbrellas still fascinate me. Maybe that's a weird thing to be interested in rather than... I dunno, the glory of a summer's day or a wild herd of ponies running free across the plain, but whatever. I like umbrellas. I like the sanctuary they offer; I like that they give you this warm dry bubble in the middle of a storm. I like the way people struggle to keep hold of them when the wind blows. I like the way people stand under them together, sharing small and lovely spaces. I like that when it's raining you see umbrellas dot the sidewalks, and I like the way the coloured ones revive wet grey cities. I like that if you have an umbrella and the right west wind you could fly, or at least float.
I also like this song. A lot.
For me an umbrella means you'll always have a safe place, even if it's small and even if it's temporary and even if the world outside is a mess. And now I have my own.
I just- argh, I feel really good about myself right now. I've wanted a tattoo for years, and I waited until I knew what I wanted before getting it done instead of just picking out something random from the book.* I designed this myself (true, not that much to design, but still) and made the appointment myself and went there myself and didn't chicken out at all. And now I have my own lovely (slightly irregular) tattoo.
\:D/
* Everything they have in those books is really, really ugly anyway. Who gets a fucking skeleton on a motorcycle? Surely that's a punishment, just like the tuba.
I made the appointment about three weeks ago, and even though I got there late today- because I got on the wrong bus again, damn Gerald you're really not all there- it all went really well. The tattoo artist is a lovely old man (he likes Michael Moore!) who kept calling me "dear," which usually bothers me but didn't today because I was really, really nervous. And kind of shaky.
I shouldn't have been! It barely hurt- at worst it felt like a very, very strong itch. Definitely not as bad as getting blood drawn. And- and- Jesus Christ I have a tattoo. Kerrin, you need to show Mum. She will Go Spare.
One of my first memories- not my very first, that's of my second birthday when I got two troll dolls on my birthday cake and I wanted to keep the girl one but Keggie got to keep that one, how unfair is THAT, it was MY birthday!- is of being a little kid in a park in the middle of the city. It was a rainy day and someone had left an umbrella on a picnic table. I'd seen umbrellas on television and in the movies before, but no one in my family ever had one. We still don't, really. So I was fascinated by this weird little device, and I wanted to see how it opened up, and I shoved my hand inside.
It turned out it was really sharp and rusty and I cut my fingers, but I still got it to open up.
Umbrellas still fascinate me. Maybe that's a weird thing to be interested in rather than... I dunno, the glory of a summer's day or a wild herd of ponies running free across the plain, but whatever. I like umbrellas. I like the sanctuary they offer; I like that they give you this warm dry bubble in the middle of a storm. I like the way people struggle to keep hold of them when the wind blows. I like the way people stand under them together, sharing small and lovely spaces. I like that when it's raining you see umbrellas dot the sidewalks, and I like the way the coloured ones revive wet grey cities. I like that if you have an umbrella and the right west wind you could fly, or at least float.
I also like this song. A lot.
For me an umbrella means you'll always have a safe place, even if it's small and even if it's temporary and even if the world outside is a mess. And now I have my own.
I just- argh, I feel really good about myself right now. I've wanted a tattoo for years, and I waited until I knew what I wanted before getting it done instead of just picking out something random from the book.* I designed this myself (true, not that much to design, but still) and made the appointment myself and went there myself and didn't chicken out at all. And now I have my own lovely (slightly irregular) tattoo.
\:D/
* Everything they have in those books is really, really ugly anyway. Who gets a fucking skeleton on a motorcycle? Surely that's a punishment, just like the tuba.