Last night, Husband and I hosted a tattoo party for a friend of ours. If you have never heard of a tattoo party… well, I guess it’s pretty self-explanatory.
You know, now, that I have… a tattoo (and now I have two tattoos). Don’t judge.
I got my first tattoo at a tattoo party around Valentine’s Day last year with Husband. He got a wolf; I got a hawk (but it’s a pretty swirly girly hawk that sorta looks more like a dove). The hawk is sort of what Shae means in Gaelic. In Irish, my name is the female form of James, and that’s just not as cool, so I went with Gaelic.
Insert picture here – – – >
Isn’t it cute?! …I don’t have a picture on this computer… that I can find… so just imagine it on my right shoulder.
Because of last night’s party, I didn’t go to sleep until like 2 a.m., the “tattoos” part of the party didn’t end until like 5 a.m. and I slept until like 12:30 in the afternoon. However, I did clean my whole house, pick up my dog from Grandma’s and Grandpa’s house AND clip coupons. I did do stuff before my hour nap at 7 p.m. And I chose to blog before finishing the dishes.
Those are just a bunch of excuses as to why late post is late. Really, really late. Thanks for waiting!
I did say I had two tattoos, didn’t I?
Well, I got a new one last night, which will be much more difficult to hide because it’s behind my ear. Yes. That’s right. It’s on my neck. I have just lost like 12 beauty points (but replaced them with like 12 hard ass points because I didn’t cry).
And it would not have made any sense to get this particular tattoo anywhere else on my body. It would have just been wrong because…
It’s an earring, and when I first bought these earrings as a sophomore in high school, they meant nothing, were cheap and from Hottopic (because I was a rebel, kids).
When I was 17, the earrings got some meaning.
My stepfather was in an accident and died in September 2005. After the accident, at the viewing before his funeral, every body had brought something to put in his coffin, but I didn’t have anything. Empty hands. Didn’t even have a purse.
But I was wearing these earrings.
I left the viewing with one less earring. The match is in my stepfather’s crossed hands. I, to this day, have no idea why I did it. Step-Dad and I never really got along, and I was one ungrateful, self-centered little teenage girl. But he was my stepfather, the only real one I ever had so maybe that’s why I did it.
And just because my earring didn’t have a match, didn’t mean I stopped wearing it. From them on, I wore it almost constantly with a black stud in the other ear.
Well, you may ask, why did you get a tattoo if you have an earring?
It broke. Cheap plastic from Hottopic apparently lasts about five years before breaking. I was lucky to find the piece on my dining room floor that is currently tattooed to my body. If not, I’m sure I could have recreated it from memory.
While I have absolutely no reason or need to defend myself, I hope those of you who read my blog do not stop reading because skinnyshae has tattoos. I probably won’t get many more. I’m a giant baby (though that one only hurt afterward… the burning…), and I’m not so good with the pain factor.
Is is beautiful? I think so. Does it need to be? Not this.
I know someday I’m going to have to explain to my children why I got tattoos when I was younger. But I have my answer: “I got them for me. I got them after thinking very hard about what I wanted. And I waited until I was in my 20’s so you can too.”
I just be an awesome mom who wears her hair down and turtle necks to PTA meetings. :) (Although I don’t mind showing off because, remember, I AM NOT MODEST, but also VERY PRUDE?)
Everyone should think for as long as I did. I wasn’t going to do it four times with both tattoos. Tattoos are permanent and should have some meaning behind them even if that meaning is: “Isn’t it cute?” Okay. Don’t do something stupid and love what you do.