It Might Seem A Little Odd

Especially if you're not a fan of tattoos (don't worry, Shepherd K, I still love you), but I'm super excited about my new tattoos.  I had an appointment set for them way back in March, but "my" guy had a family emergency and had to reschedule.  The problem is, it takes six weeks to get in with him to begin with.  Yes, he's that good.

I finally was able to reschedule for the 23rd, which happens to be Monster's 17th birthday, but I don't think I'll tell him that I've booked my new tats for that day. Shhh...

Before my first tattoo, I would have sworn I'd never get one.  Ever.  Not even on a dare.  And then we went to Las Vegas for Staci's bachelorette party.  Robs and Nebalee went to a tattoo shop; Robs came out with the cutest little tattoo on her skinny little ankle that means "dream" (we think anyway, it's a Chinese character, who knows what it actually means) and Nebalee came out with her nose pierced.  I was too chicken-shit to even step foot inside the tattoo shop.

A year later, I hit a gawdawful depression.  I couldn't see my way out.  Everything just seemed hopeless.  Breathing hurt, it was only by sheer willpower that I was able to get out of bed to take care of the kids and go to work.  Even that was iffy.  I knew I needed to do something to remind myself that even though things appeared to be bad, there was always hope and I had to hold onto it.

I decided I needed a permanent reminder that there's always hope, so I talked my dad into paying for a small tattoo - the Chinese character for hope (again, I think that's what it means, but since I don't read Chinese, it could say anything).  I was terrified of the pain and the needles, but I really felt that I had to do something permanent.  So I sucked it up and went.  I was in and out of the chair in less than fifteen minutes.  The tattoo itself took about eight minutes.  It was a smart move, getting that "hope" tattoo; it's carried me through some tough times.  But I never thought I'd get another one.

Fast forward five or six years and I met RCC.  I really admired his tattoo.  Okay, maybe admired isn't the right word.  He appeared so straight-laced and even-keeled that when I first saw the hint of a tattoo coming up over his shoulder it was so freaking HOT!  I still get butterflies when I think about the first time I realized he had a tattoo.

I'd seen some of his artwork and knew that he was "the one", so I asked him to design me a tattoo.  I left him total creative freedom.  I was astounded when he came up with my GunDiva tattoo and immediately fell in love with it.

I swore it was going to be my last tattoo.

But then Estes got so sick and almost died last year and I started thinking about a tattoo to remember her by.  I personally hate portrait tattoos, so that was out of the question.  I wasn't sure what I was going to do and then I came up with the idea of having her brand tattooed on my shoulder.  And then I realized I couldn't put my four-legged child's brand on me without doing the two-legged kids' brand.  So...next week I'll be getting branded, in a manner of speaking.  Not at all like what Digger and Monster did last year.*

*Disclaimer: I found out about Monster's dumbassery long after it was healed.