Project 356: Day 70 - Tattoo-A-Go-Go...

Well, I guess I have to begin this post with an apology. We passed out last night around 8:30 due to the fun-filled day with kids. Sorry to miss a day's post, but I will provide two today to get back on track......

About 15 years ago, my mom, my best friend and myself went to get a tattoo. I don't remember the conversations that lead up to actually going to get them, but we went together. my mom got a beautiful flower on her shoulder. My best friend, hearts on her hip. And me? Well, I ended up with what is now called the tramp stamp. Ok, in my defense, it was NOT called that 15 years ago. I have the sun in the middle of my lower back. I like my sun. I got it to show that it is always sunny somewhere. And that the sun will ALWAYS be on my back no matter what I may be going through.

And then a year and a half ago, while I was in my "crazy" stage, I went back to the tattoo salon and had them permanently affix thirteen stars in a scattered pattern down my right side under my arm. There was no real reason why I chose what I did except that I thought it looked really cool and the only significance they have in my life would be that stars don't always have to align perfectly to have a good life. I don't know. I kinda made it up on the way to the tattoo salon.

Regardless of what they mean to me or why I got them, I am happy that I did. I wouldn't change them except to go back and make them more elaborate. I've thought about adding my boys names to the stars and maybe a little color. But regardless, I am happy with them.

So my sister, whose birthday was last week, has wanted me to take her to get one for years now. I usually talked her out of it by making her fearful of the pain. I just wasn't sure if she could handle it. I mean this is the girl that shows off all her tiny scratches and bruises as if they were massive war wounds and tells about how they hurt. So, did I think she could handle the pain of the constant needle? Hell no. But this weekend I decided that it was no longer up to me determine if she could handle it or not. And it was no longer my place to tell her that she couldn't. It was never my place to begin with.

When I got to her place this weekend, I told her that if she was ready then I was ready to take her. I could tell she was nervous driving to the salon, picking at the paint on her nails and not talking too much. We arrived and had to look through their books to see if they had the perfect dolphin to place on her shoulder. I always knew she would get a dolphin. It goes beyond obsession. But it's cute. So we found the right one and they walked us back to Brian's station. Her nerves were still present as she stumbled a little getting situated in the chair and she stumbled again getting her shirt just right. But the nerves were most present in me, as I stumbled asking if she was ok, telling her she's gonna do fine, admitting to Brian that I know I' more nervous than she is, but that she was my baby sister and I couldn't help it. He was gracious and let out a small giggle and assured that he understood.

When it was all over, I couldn't have been more proud of her. (hell I really wasn't sure if I was more relieved that she made it through it or that I made it through it). But it was done and she was happy. And I was happy for her. Brian rocked out the cutest dolphin and baby sis was no longer a tattoo virgin.

70 of 365: The Blue Dolphin....

Good Day All!