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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.
no subject
Mum should be calling you right about now.
YOU HAVEN'T SEEN HIS BACK TATTOOS? THEY GO DOWN HIS BUMS.
no subject
Gabe = total slasher. And it was Michael Guy Chislett, who doesn't even know what "fanfictions" are. He said so in an FAQ once. I have read something with Mike Carden in it, though. (Supposedly he's the ugliest member of the band? I disagree, I think everyone in TAI is really really ridiculously good-looking.)
TELL THE BUTCHER TO KEEP HIS BUMS COVERED WE DO NOT NEED TO BE LOOKING AT THEMS. D:
(I have seen Sisky's bum tattoo!)
no subject
Oops, she called anyway. Stephanie is looking more and more like Carden the more I see her. Mostly because she, like him, is always laughing with her mouth hanging wide open.
Sisky is a silly silly person. (And if I ever meet him I will probably run and jump on him from a long distance, just for kicks.)
no subject
"Je vais a la plage avec mon crayon..." Somehow Mark Hoppus continues to be amazing, even if his band isn't.
Does Carden do that? I hadn't noticed. (Also, I thought that Stephanie was a Billiam lookalike? Because that would make me Sisky and you The Butcher and Eddie Chislett. Yes, yes this IS the stuff I think about on a daily basis, and I BLAME YOU.)
(And Pete Wentz.)
DO NOT JUMP ON SISKY. He looks terribly breakable. I don't think anyone in that band eats, except that one time with the chicken caboodles.
no subject
Mark Hoppus' band annoys me. Also his hair.
But he's younger than me! Thus, I bother! Oh, I bet the Butcher's the proverbial fat kid. Metabolism liek wo.
no subject
But- but he's Mark Hoppus! (Although, yeah, the hair? Terrible. Just terrible.) I'm really tickled by the fact that he's hanging around so many weemo gay boys- it's like my past and my present merging into one perfect whole.
Naw, I think Michael is the official Fat Kid. And then he goes to hang out with Patrick and complain about his skinny, skinny bandmates, and Patrick's like, "What the hell are you saying, dude? Chicken caboodles?"