On My First Tattoo

On My First Tattoo

It hurt part of the time.  Like an actual needle puncturing deep.


It didn’t hurt part of the time.  Like just humming and vibrating near the skin.


I can’t stand the smell of A&D ointment.


Maybe listening to music on an iPod would help, as hearing the humming of the needle thingie is psychologically gross.  Just like listening to my own labored breathing while running is psychologically overwhelming to me.  But if I’d done that, then I couldn’t hear Mark, the guy who did my tattoo, tell me to roll over.  Or hear Jen, my cornerman and best cheerleader friend in this, tell me things that took my mind off the hurting.  Jen who designed my tattoo.  Which is beautiful and I love very much.


I don’t really feel like showing anyone or explaining it because it takes forever and also I feel like I need a handout with the source poem material and Cliff’s Notes and probably some laminated flash cards, too.  Plus there’s an intertextual reference, too.  GOD.  Leave it to me to get a geeky tattoo that practically has its own fucking footnotes.


You may see my tattoo, but be warned:  there will be a quiz afterwards.


Do I have to show it to you here in the street?


Getting your tattoo while at a party is actually pretty cool.  Even if you’re lying on a massage table in the kitchen while people float in and out.  They stop and look at you with encouraging faces and are nice.  Your friend Jen holds your hand like you are having a baby vaginally and she talks about stuff so you can think about her words instead of thinking about owww, omigod, owww…


A&D ointment REEKS.  I’m so glad Matilda’s baby butt was so lovely and rash-free – I can’t stand this stuff.


My husband got so drunk while I got my tattoo.  I am never around when my husband gets drunk.  The last time I was around my drunk husband, he wasn’t my husband and we were 16 and at a house party at our friend Ben’s and I was drinking cherry brandy and I don’t know what he was drinking.  He can drink a lot more than most people.  This is because he’s Irish, maybe?  He acts like a naughty five-year-old when he’s drunk, in case you are wondering.  And yes, he was babbling a little and yes, he wanted to smoke cigarettes and go to Dairy Queen.  Normally Adrian’s a badass.  When he’s drunk and I’m getting a tattoo, we have role reversal.

4 Comments

  • Carrie on Jun 09, 2011 Reply

    I’ll have to just show you. *sighs* It takes forever to explain. It’s kind of a headscratcher.

  • DanYell Stedman on Jun 09, 2011 Reply

    Still waiting on that photo……

  • Carrie on Jun 06, 2011 Reply

    I’ll send you a photo.

  • DanYell Stedman on Jun 05, 2011 Reply

    Where in the sam hell is your new tattoo?

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