Annual Haircut and Tattoo Ramblings

So I know you've all been waiting with bated breath to hear the news. Last Saturday I finally got the annual haircut. Dant da da naaaaaaaa! It took an hour of my time all said and done, and I got a very nice stylist. Terry was talkative and chirpy and told me she thought I was twenty-eight or twenty-nine (which immediately tripled her tip.) She is thirty-three, which is close to my age, so it wasn't like she was some little twenty-something who doesn't know what's heading down the road towards her like a jailhouse on wheels. Which made the compliment all the better. She seemed very sincere. (That's my story and I'm sticking to it.)

Terry had several tattoos in some interesting places. I love tattoos. I just always think myself out of getting one. Terry had an intricate weave encircling her left ring finger, shooting stars on her neck, and one in her ear. I noticed the neck one first, and asked how painful it was. She admitted it was considerably painful on that sensitive area, but not as bad as the one in her ear. I wasn't brave enough to ask her to see it, but I couldn't imagine the pain of having that done. As we talked, I told her about the delicate tribal tattoo I saw on the internet around a woman's thigh like a garter. It was extremely sexy. I plan on one of my future heroines to have one like it.

In college I designed a tattoo and considered getting it done, but again, I talked myself out of it. I took a friend of mine, back then to get one for her birthday and paid for part of it as her present. Now that is really the gift that keeps on giving.

So here I am. Thirty-six, and again contemplating getting a tattoo. I'm sure I'll talk myself out of it. I always do. I know several people with them, including my brother, but I'm not so sure that ink is for me. Though it would cement my biker chick persona. Maybe I could get a full sleeve, and go around wearing a strappy tee shirt that reads, "Home grown not silicone" if I wanted to be a true Harley Mama. Just joking. (Natalie will be all up in arms if she thinks that's really how I view tattoos!)

I always go back to thinking I don't want to be an old grandma sitting around the nursing home with a wrinkled tattoo. But with the amount of people who have them, it could be a topic of conversation and pride in the rec room. "Look how well mine's held up!" "If I pull my skin like this, the wolf looks like a carny sideshow act!" "Check out how big my bicep used to be. Measure the barbed wire tattoo that goes around. Here, let me hold out the extra skin that hangs down so you can get an accurate measurement with the tape measure." Alright, that was a little gross, but you can see where my mind goes and why I usually talk myself out of getting one.

Maybe this year is the year. Maybe I'll act spontaneously and forget to think about wrinkles and nursing homes. Maybe I'll look for a cool tat and narrow down where I'll put it on my body. Maybe I'll find a reputable tattoo artist and get it done.

Maybe.