*giggles* Hehee Guess what? nah, go ahead, guess...
Okay okay, fine, I'll tell ya! I got my new tattoo! YAY!!! WooHoo!!! Dance in the street and all that!
Okay, okay, hold on. Before you ask what it is, I have to first appologise. I don't tend to hold much back on here, however, as I detailed my initial visit to the tattoo parlour I left out some crucial details. In my defense, they were left out to forstall impending "So what are ya gettin'?" questions (which didn't work well, mind you), and because I knew I'd be getting to said crucial details in this entry.
On to the details...
--------
As all would-be tattooees do, I walked into the shop knowing exactly what I wanted to get, and holding a representation of it in my hands. I was quite excited and expected it would look quite nice. Having handed my creation over to the masterful artist sitting across the desk from me, I came to realize he didn't seem to share my enthusiasm for my artwork (not surprising, to be honest).
I believe the term he used was "jail-house". Okay, so we chat for a bit, he bouncing ideas off me, me kindly returning the favour, and we come to the conclusion that he should take my 'first-draft' and see what he can make of it.
Well, he does, and about a week later, I finally see the results of his trials. Quite pleased, I was, to say the least.
So now as each day passes, I'm getting more and more excited. And my excitement is growing such that by the time I make my way to the party last weekend, I don't think I let one hour go by without reminding everyone within ear-shot that "I'm getting my tattoo Monday!!!"
The day finally arrives (much to the relief of anyone that had to listen to me rant on about my impending inkage), the time finally arrives, and I finally arrive at the shop. During some random chit-chat before my actually sitting in the chair, my excitement slowly starts to be replaced by small twinges of nervousness.... These twinges grow exponentially until the needle first touches my skin.
By that point the twinges have nothing to do with nerves anymore. As anyone who's gotten their chest done before can attest, there are plenty of twinges caused by intense pain to make up for any nervousness that may not be there. This was the longest, most painful procedure I've had to endure since actually going through the process of being born (though I don't remember much of that, so I'm okay).
Just about the only thing that's allowing me to sit still is the knowledge that three small lines on my chest over my right nipple do not a tattoo make. Immediately following the drawing of the first line, I realize "Well, guess I just gotta suffer through the rest of it, now. No way out at this point."
So I do. And I can tell you with the utmost of sincerity that I have absolutly no regrets for having done so. I could not possibly be happier at the results of my most recent, albeit painful, experience.
In any event, I've finally posted pictures of my marked skin, though I must appologize for the insanely poor quality of the shots. My web-cam sucks furious, hairy monkey balls, and I hate it to the ends of the Earth. However, until I can get my hands on something more adequate, the piss-poor quality of these pictures will simply have to suffice. I promise I will try to improve the quality at the soonest convenience.
(Oh, and I also included my original plan, just so you can see how absolutely genius this man is.)
Okay okay, fine, I'll tell ya! I got my new tattoo! YAY!!! WooHoo!!! Dance in the street and all that!
Okay, okay, hold on. Before you ask what it is, I have to first appologise. I don't tend to hold much back on here, however, as I detailed my initial visit to the tattoo parlour I left out some crucial details. In my defense, they were left out to forstall impending "So what are ya gettin'?" questions (which didn't work well, mind you), and because I knew I'd be getting to said crucial details in this entry.
On to the details...
--------
As all would-be tattooees do, I walked into the shop knowing exactly what I wanted to get, and holding a representation of it in my hands. I was quite excited and expected it would look quite nice. Having handed my creation over to the masterful artist sitting across the desk from me, I came to realize he didn't seem to share my enthusiasm for my artwork (not surprising, to be honest).
I believe the term he used was "jail-house". Okay, so we chat for a bit, he bouncing ideas off me, me kindly returning the favour, and we come to the conclusion that he should take my 'first-draft' and see what he can make of it.
Well, he does, and about a week later, I finally see the results of his trials. Quite pleased, I was, to say the least.
So now as each day passes, I'm getting more and more excited. And my excitement is growing such that by the time I make my way to the party last weekend, I don't think I let one hour go by without reminding everyone within ear-shot that "I'm getting my tattoo Monday!!!"
The day finally arrives (much to the relief of anyone that had to listen to me rant on about my impending inkage), the time finally arrives, and I finally arrive at the shop. During some random chit-chat before my actually sitting in the chair, my excitement slowly starts to be replaced by small twinges of nervousness.... These twinges grow exponentially until the needle first touches my skin.
By that point the twinges have nothing to do with nerves anymore. As anyone who's gotten their chest done before can attest, there are plenty of twinges caused by intense pain to make up for any nervousness that may not be there. This was the longest, most painful procedure I've had to endure since actually going through the process of being born (though I don't remember much of that, so I'm okay).
Just about the only thing that's allowing me to sit still is the knowledge that three small lines on my chest over my right nipple do not a tattoo make. Immediately following the drawing of the first line, I realize "Well, guess I just gotta suffer through the rest of it, now. No way out at this point."
So I do. And I can tell you with the utmost of sincerity that I have absolutly no regrets for having done so. I could not possibly be happier at the results of my most recent, albeit painful, experience.
In any event, I've finally posted pictures of my marked skin, though I must appologize for the insanely poor quality of the shots. My web-cam sucks furious, hairy monkey balls, and I hate it to the ends of the Earth. However, until I can get my hands on something more adequate, the piss-poor quality of these pictures will simply have to suffice. I promise I will try to improve the quality at the soonest convenience.
(Oh, and I also included my original plan, just so you can see how absolutely genius this man is.)
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Kisses