I have been bitten by the fox with his sharp sharp teeth, he has left his mark on my shoulder.

Well dear readers, (if there are any of you left) I have once again been neglectful of my little blog. Work began again this week, and I have been busy setting up, being at a conference, meeting and greeting new families, and doing paper work. Thrilling. I know.

I have also been rather absent from Twitter (insert small sob here) and from blog reading (insert pitiful sob here.)

It has, however been an interesting week none the less.  It was the week I got tattooed.  Yes, that’s right tattooed. I have been wanting a tattoo for a long, long time.  Once, some years ago I even made an appointment to have one done, but the tattooist in question looked at what I wanted and said ‘no, can’t do that, the line work is too fine.’ Well, you can imagine the confidence that inspired in me.  I cancelled the appointment.

Since then I have continued the search for the perfect image, and the perfect tattoo artist.  My search ended last week when I came across a web site. I rang, they said  just drop in anytime to discuss what I wanted, so I did, but the artist in question was busy.  It was a little confronting walking in to a shop front and seeing 2 people being tattooed right in front of me.  I wasn’t sure where to look.   I made a time to come back and discuss my ideas with my chosen artist – for artists these people truly are.

I returned two days later and discussed what I wanted with Ryan, my chosen tattooist.  He went away, drew it up and showed me… I beamed! It was perfect. So, as I waited for him to set up I signed the paperwork. A man about my age and his partner were there too, he was choosing his design, and another younger man was being tattooed as well. He had 2 hours to still go and  he had been there at least an hour already… so, I thought to my self, how much can it hurt really.  I was to be tattooed in the shop front, with people walking past me on Smith Street Collingwood looking in. People came in and out, chatting to various artists, showing what they wanted, where they wanted it… one bloke even dropping trousers… meanwhile, I’m standing there with one singlet top strap and one bra strap tucked under my arm, shoulder bared having the transfer applied.  No one batted an eye lid at any of this. It was refreshing actually, people of all ages, shapes and sizes, baring skin, baring body, without judgement, without fear.   I checked placement in a double mirror, and then it started.

The buzzing noise was close to my ear.  There was light pressure, a small scratching sting… this is Ok I thought… easy.  Fool.  The second part was right on my shoulder blade. I had heard people say that being tattooed close to bone can hurt.  They are right.  But it was a controlled pain, of my own choosing.  After about 45 minutes I was done.  My tattoos were covered in plastic wrap and I was ready to go home.  A marked woman.  I love my tattoo, and am already planning to add to this one, or get another one.

For me, being tattooed was very personal.  What you choose to have put on your body, and where you have it, it is very personal.  A friend said I will regret having it done.  But I don’t, and I wont.  Someone also said I may regret it when I’m 90.  But I wont. If I’m 90 I’ll be happy to still be kicking and I’ll be able to say that I made choices about my body for me. And at the end of the day, it’s me who has to like it!

Note – the title of this post is what I wrote as my status on facebook when I arrived home from having the tattoo done.  It is also a hint at the name of the place I was tattooed.

Tags: blog, never say never, tattoo, twitter