Surprise! Please Don't Plan an Intervention

Yes, this is it - the big unveiling.

Surprise! I'm a heathen.

Before I begin, NO, I do not feel the urge to:

• Hang out in biker bars
• Start cussing around small children
• Replace my wardrobe with leather
• Get drunk on a Tuesday
• Start smoking
• Any other tattoo stereotype I missed

Actually, David started it all. He wanted to get a tattoo as a remembrance of our time in Hawaii, because it really meant a lot to us, especially David. I told him that there was no way I was getting one, but he could go nuts. He wanted something that represents the sea, because it turns out David loves it. On some days, he loves it probably more than me.

Anyway, I had more free time than David, so I started searching the web for Hawaiian tattoo designs. I spent A LOT of time doing this, but nothing was quite right.

So, the search continued. It went on for so long, that I started to see some things I really liked. And, after a while, I combined different aspects of all the tattoos I liked and made a unique one, just for me, in case I changed my mind about the whole needles thing.

Then I started researching the care instructions for tattoos, so I would be ready when David got one. Then I found out that you have to stay out of the water for 2-4 weeks, and out of the sun for at least a month! When you live in Hawaii, that kind of sucks. At this point, it was mid-March, and I realized if I was going to do this, I had to get a tattoo RIGHT THEN to be finished in time for our vacation to Maui in mid-April. So I pondered the situation, and decided I wanted one, after all. Just a little one. Ha.

OWWW.

David was all kinds of supportive, so we packed it up and drove WAYYY up the coast to the part of the island that was practically deserted, because the Internet told me there was some tattooing greatness up there, in the form of a lady named Laura. I was concerned, because sparsely populated areas are usually really local Hawaiian, and they don't like us whitey transplants. I was getting it on my shoulder - what if they wrote 'Suck it, Haole' on there instead!? There was much fretting.

Actually, she turned out to be a white chick from New York! Ha ha. She was very nice, and looked at my drawings and altered them a bit further for maximum coolness. Then she asked me how big I wanted it - I said around 2'' x 2'' and she looked at me like I was nuts. She said that my design required a larger tat so you could see all the design elements. She drew it on my back and let me look at it - in the moment I was like, 'Pretty!' and said ok. David had a weird look on his face, and later I realized it was there because it was MUCH larger than I had planned, and he knows how I get caught up in the moment.

So, then it was Needle Time. As Laura was finishing up the drawing, another girl had come in for her first tattoo as well. Since she wanted an exact copy of something, she got started before me.

Oh sweet lord.

The sounds coming out of her mouth were....unhappy. Loud screaming/panting. I think my adrenaline level shot up just listening to her. Everyone else in the shop were vaguely embarrassed for her, and wouldn't look each other in the eye. I swore to myself that I would not make a sound.

Getting freaked out, listening to the show.

Then (??) started. I managed not to scream, and I could tell she was relieved I was not going to be a pansy. (Just wait!) But, man - the pain. It felt just like a hot scalpel slowly being dragged through your skin. About 30 minutes in, the pain buildup was pretty considerable. When I'm in pain, I tend to hold my breath. I'll let you guess what happens next.

Actually, I was starting to get tunnel vision, and I asked her if we could have a break. She said 'Sure, just let me finish this real quick.'

After that, I woke up.

Impending Unconsciousness.

At first, all I felt was a cessation of the pain, which was like a drug in and of itself. Then I realized I was slumped down in the chair. I put 2 and 2 together, and my eyes darted over to look at the chair David had been sitting in - it was empty. Thank goodness, he wasn't here for this little episode.

But no. He had been there alright - Laura sent him to the convenience store to get a soda for me to raise my blood sugar - apparently that helps. As we waited, the after-fainting nausea started setting in. Honestly, I think it's worse than the actual tattooing. I hate feeling all out-of-sorts. It took 30 minutes for it to subside so we could go on. I was just relieved there was not a huge black line running down my back from when I randomly slumped down in my chair. Whew.

Outlining

After that, there was more pain for a while. I didn't get anywhere near passing out again, so I guess the soda trick works. I was in the chair for 3 hours, but passed out for probably 30 minutes, so - maybe 2 1/2 hours of scalpel fun? It was nuts. I'm kind of amazed I made it. When they shade, they drag the needles back and forth in your skin, like they are coloring..(Which, I guess they are.) That was less than fun. I have a few lines going towards the top of my shoulder, and that was the worst. It felt like the needles was going all the way through my body to the soles of my feet. Nerves are a fascinating thing.

Holy crap, that's big.

The Screamer had long since gone, so Laura and the other tattoo artist and I talked about different people's reaction to getting tattooed for the first time, and we all made fun of me for fainting. Then, it was all over, and I had this lovely piece of art on me forever.

It's in a non-wrinkly/baby stretching spot that people don't see very often, so hopefully it won't be freakish when I'm older. I doubt I'll be wearing a strapless anything when I'm 50.

Almost done....I like my ghost-white complexion. It hurt, ok!?

The next day when I woke up, I started freaking out, because ink was LEAKING OUT of my tattoo. Turns out there are all kinds of crazy things that can happen, and I just knew my tattoo was going to wash away. Or start spotting. Or get infected. We had a little Paranoia Period for about a week.

I think the best part was going to the beach post-tattoo. It had to be covered at all times, but I still wanted to indulge in my favorite activity - basking. Options? Survey says.... look like a huge dork.

Basically, I got an old t-shirt with virtually no sleeves that I didn't like, and hacked it off right at my ribs, so it covered the top half of my body, but my tummy was no longer in the dark. I was a sight walking down the beach. This look might have worked if I was in any kind of shape, but my workout regime includes donuts. So, on the outside there I was, looking like I thought I was all hot and stuff, showing off my marshmallow-stomach. Inside, I felt like a complete doofus, and just wished I ate less donuts. David found this hysterical.

At work, my boss went to pat me on the shoulder, and I reacted so strongly trying to get away from him, I had to show him to explain. He thought David had been beating me at home. They were all very proud and proclaimed me 'aina'. (That's Hawaiian for 'local' - kinda.)

Most importantly, David loves it. I kept it a secret for 2 months so I could surprise my mom. It was so worth it. I got the bug-eye look from my sister too - but they both loved it. HA HA! It made up for the 2 months of having to painstakingly photoshop my tattoo out of all pictures posted on the blog. The first thing EVERYONE says to me is, 'it's fake, right?" Without fail. THEN they freak out as they realize it isn't.

It's actually been interesting moving back - in Hawaii, it's unusual if you don't have a tattoo. Here, it's unusual if you do and you're not a biker. It feels like a 2 month delayed reaction, since no one said anything over on the island and I'm just now getting the feedback. So far no one has brought up the 'your body is a temple' thing yet, but I'm waiting. I'm still me - getting a tattoo doesn't change who you are, or what you stand for. It's just for showing something that is important to you to others. It's a piece of you in physical form.

Although, it DOES make guys hit on me a lot more - yay, self esteem. Although, it's probably more becuase it's such an easy and safe topic to ask about - I suppose making that first move is the scariest. Single girls - think about gettting an ice-breaker tattoo! (Ha)

Of course, that could also be because I'm at college, which is a giant Meat Market. I had forgotten.

Once you get married - everyone else just becomes...people. I just don't think about it anymore. So at first I just thought everyone was really friendly, and completely missed the connection until David pointed it out. He said it was cute that I'm so clueless.

It's a bit of a new world - watching the tattoo alter people's initial perspective about me.

*Oh, side note - every time someone sees my tattoo and says something like, 'You got a tattoo!' David will invariable hear and yell, sometimes from across the room, 'She fainted!'

Sigh.

Love ya, babe.