In the "ink" crowd

For years I've been thinking about getting a tattoo. On my 30th birthday I even went to a tattoo parlor (are they even called that?) and talked to an artist. I wanted a quill pen with an ink bottle. The artist had never seen that done and was excited to do it. But when he even mentioned putting me in the appointment book, I had second thoughts. He assured me that he was marking my appointment in pencil and it was erasable, but even an appointment in pencil was too much for me. I told the guy I'd call and his tattoo groupie (again, I'm not up on the proper terms, but if there was a such thing as a tattoo groupie, he was one) said to me "you're not going to be back, are you?" I kind of smiled and my sister dragged me upstairs so she could get her tongue ring changed. She was mortified. I was feeling insecure, but happy I didn't rush into anything, like, an appointment I could change.

It's not that pain that deters me. It's the finality of it all. It's permanent. Ok, well, there is laser removal, but I hear it's expensive and painful. These are two words in my vocabulary that I try hard to avoid. I have nothing against tattoos. My sister-in-law got one yesterday. It's really neat. And it's meaningful. It's the eternity symbol and a shamrock in the center. It represents her love for her late husband and her family - each member is a leaf of the four-leafed clover. I watched her get it and I loved the experience.

I'd love to get one on my foot. This way, I can see it and I can cover it. I'd want it for me, not at s status symbol. But I can't seem to get my head around how permanent it is, which is why if and when I decided on one, it'd have to be something very personal. I love the idea of getting some paws, to represent my boys. But even that's not 100% set in my mind.

My mother-in-law said to me today, as SIL showed off her tattoo, "I hear you want one." Jeff piped up, "she's been talking about it for years." MIL said, "Yeah, right, we all know you. You'd never be able to sit through that." I told her not to make me prove her wrong and she said "I want to be there for that!" I told her if she was there she'd have to get one, too.

I hate being challenged to prove I'm tough, or in, or worthy, over something like a tattoo. Me not getting one isn't being a chicken, because I believe it's as personal a choice to me not to get one as it is for someone else to get one, if that makes any sense.

So here I am again, at the tattoo crossroads. Another friend got one, I love it, but now I feel the pressure I always do. I want one, but not because someone else did. I don't like that kind of pressure. I've never been someone who is a slave to fashion. I don't want to have things just because everyone else does. I like to be me, original, but not so much that I'm a freak. Does that even make sense? If and when I did get one, I'd go alone I think. And I'd try like hell not to even tell anyone. Expect Jeff maybe. And Dayna. But that's it. I don't even think I'd blog about it. But we'll see.

We'll see if I get one, and if I can keep it to myself.