New tattoo

Not long ago, I went on a tattoo bender.

My sister, ever the enabler, took me to tattoo shops in Reno and in the span of less than 2 years I went from ZERO tattoos to FIVE tattoos.

Then I stopped (in large part because I got cellulitis from my last tattoo) and since then no artist has added any ink to my body.

My SON, on the other hand, opted to get a tattoo to reflect his love of the United States of America.

As is practice in our family, he enlisted the help of my sister to get his tattoo:

Now personally I WOULD NEVER get this kind of a tattoo.

But I love the ink on him and I must say, despite the unusual location of the tattoo (on the back of his forearm), it suits him well.

He is BEYOND happy with his tattoo and I imagine that it’s the first of many that he will get.

And clearly he’s not afraid of his tattoos showing, like I am.

My hips, ankle, foot and shoulder blade are tattooed and all of them can be hidden, if need be.

I think, given his current occupation of soldier, that it’s a pretty neat tattoo to get.

At least he didn’t accidentally get a polyamory tattoo on his shoulder.

The accidental tattoo

I love tattoos.

On men.

On women.

On non-binary people.

It’s all very decorative and eye catching.

I have five tattoos – for a while I would get a new tattoo every time I visited my sister in Reno.

She has MANY tattoos and is my enabler.

We actually have two matching tattoos.

Once upon a time, when I was in love with a man who didn’t deserve me, I imagined that our love would last forever and so when I stumbled across this design, I wanted it:

tattooA heart with an infinity symbol.

I imagined it meant ETERNAL LOVE.

The thing that I didn’t know is that the design I selected is a variation of this design:

tattooThis is the symbol for POLYAMORY.

Yes, indeed.

I inadvertently permanently marked my body with a design symbolizing polyamory.

Ironically, this is my least favorite tattoo on account of it reminds me of the man I was dating at the time.

I’m pleased it’s on my shoulder blade so I don’t have to see it every time I look in the mirror.

But take this as a lesson from me:  Before getting a tattoo, DO YOUR HOMEWORK.

Or else you might have to wind up being polyamorous, like me.

Just kidding.

It means ETERNAL LOVE.

When you drink with your sister

Start with a mini bottle of Champagne Pink Pop. Pick it out in a pink bottle thinking it’s pink. Discover it’s not pink and be disappointed. Try champagne and be even more disappointed. Add orange juice to make it drinkable.

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Try OREgasmic Ale by Rogue Farms, because it’s supposed to be OREgasmic. Discover OREgasmic beer tastes like dirty feet and pot ash. Definitely not orgasmic. Be disappointed.

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Try cheap stacked wine which comes in its own glass. Have low expectations. Have low expectations met. Feel foolish for trying wine which comes with a pull off lid.

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Try Blood Orange Mimosa. Suspect it’s a headache in a bottle with a screw top lid, but love it anyway.  Make your sister drink most of it after dosing it with vodka.

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 Graduate to bonafide liquor – making really strong mai tai and screwdriver. Decide to hop in the hot tub naked. Have to hang foot out of hot tub because of new foot tattoo (which effing HURTS). Have sister yell at you when you accidentally dip it in the water. Feel sheepish. Snap selfie anyway.

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UPDATE:  Get RAGING cellulitis (skin infection) from dipping foot in hot tub.  Deal with your sister’s “I-told-you-so’s.”  On antibiotics.  Feel even more sheepish.

Learning to be subtle

I have 5 tattoos.

I got them all within a year of turning 40.

I’d go to Reno to visit my sister and I’d come back with a new tattoo.

The last tattoo I got was a watercolor butterfly on my foot.

It got infected. . .

. . .on account of me going in my sister’s hot tub RIGHT AFTER I got the tattoo.

No worries.

My sister ripped me a new one.

And the process of clearing up the cellulitis was awful.

I thought my foot was going to fall off.

At work, I usually keep my tattoos covered up.

I don’t put them on display like I do at Burning Man or Burning Man events.

Remember that one time I shoved my crotch in a man’s face in order to show him my hip tattoos?

Yeah, I’m more subtle about it now.

Today I accidentally left for work in a sundress and to my surprise I had no sweater in my truck.

So I’m sitting in my cube, minding my own business when a coworker walks by.

“Nice tattoo. What is it? A heart?”

It’s actually a heart with an infinity symbol, meaning eternal love.

And it’s my only tattoo I dislike on account of it reminding me of the man I was with when I got it and was all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed about being in love.

Ah, eternal love.

Not!

As it turns out, eternal love only lasts until another woman comes along.

Needless to say, I won’t be wearing sleeveless tops to work anymore.

See. . . I’m learning to be subtle.

 

My other tattoos are:

Save

Tattoos

I love chicks with tattoos.  My gorgeous friend Danielle has the most beautiful artwork on her body from a vibrant peacock to an inspirational Ganesha.

See…

Up until recently, I had no body art.  I watched my sister decorate herself with all sorts of artwork.  And then I decided to get a tattoo.  I got the symbol for balance on my hip. Then I got the symbol for abundance on the other hip.

Then, in a fit of love for my sister, we got matching YS tattoos. They stand for Yase (my nickname for Lisa when I was little) and Shel (Lisa’s nickname for me when she was little).

And finally, I got a symbol for eternal love tattooed on my shoulder – right before my ex-boyfriend dumped me for another woman who he married a year later. So much for MY eternal love. LOL

Which brings me to my plans for another tattoo.  And if any of you have any ideas, suggestions, or opinions, please email them to me at michelle@unblunder.com.

THIS IS WHAT I WANT:

I want a stylized lotus flower, in color on my back.  Basically in the same location.  Don’t you just LOVE IT?!

Another date aka how my plan to stop dating was foiled by a bearded tattooed man

ac9ede3a1e221e9ae839d4c7c90334c9I have another date.

With Joe, the hipster.

Joe has a full beard and tattoos. Remember how much I LOVE that combination.

He’s also 33 years old.

OMG! No kidding. I’m almost a cougar.

Ok, I am a cougar.

It’s not like I went out looking for a younger man. Lord knows I seem to prefer the older ones.

But Joe was just so funny. He made me laugh and that’s hard to do in an email.

So we’re going out for drinks to my favorite local watering hole – the Jack Rose – on Saturday night.

And I’m giving up the ghost of pretending like I’m keeping to my vow of not dating.

It’s just as well. I really didn’t want to give up on dating. I’ve always felt like giving up would be admitting defeat and relinquishing my optimism. Perhaps even acknowledging that I’m becoming cynical/jaded (or allowing myself to become that way).

I just need to rethink my strategy to meet men. Find a new pool of potential suitors.

‘Cuz it looks like I’m not giving up anytime soon.

calm1 calm2

 

The one where I have a brain fart

So I got a new tattoo in Reno – a watercolor butterfly on my foot.

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And I loved it until the artist decided to color outside the lines.

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Now it reminds me of a drawing by a kindergartner…

on my foot…

permanently!

Oh crap! What have I done?!

You’d think that would be the worst of it, but no, YOU’D BE WRONG!

You see I (accidentally aka stupidly) got my foot wet in my sister’s hot tub right after I got the tattoo. So today I spent the afternoon at the hospital, getting a raging foot infection looked at.

And now I’m on antibiotics.

All for a lousy tattoo a toddler could have given me.

Two words.

LASER REMOVAL.