INK

well, i've done it. after threatening to since i was 17 years old, i've gotten tattoos. no, i'm not kidding. i actually did it. i went to the tattoo parlor (well, it was actually the baltimore tattoo museum), laid down on the pleather couch, and breathed deeply, trying to remain calm while an electric torture device, also known as a tattoo needle, imbedded ink that will rot with my corpse.

ok, so that's too dramatic. it was actually a really fun experience. michael and i met for burritos in fell's point right after work then went to the tattoo museum. josh, the guy that did michael's "synchronicity" tattoo, was already waiting for me when i got there and showed me the design he'd come up with, based on what i'd brought him last week. i was really pleased with what he came up with--the size was perfect, the design was cool and stylized.

since i had to go in last week and make an appointment, i'd had plenty of time to mull over what i was doing. did i really want to put something on my body that's going to be there the rest of my life? it was kind of like the 7-day waiting period for buying a handgun. i also got most of the nerves out of my system before i went in; by the time i actually got to the tattoo parlor i just wanted to get it over with already.

i can honestly say that the pain wasn't nearly as bad as i'd imagined. don't get me wrong, there were bits of it that made me completely hate life and wonder what the fuck i was doing to myself...but for the most part it was fine.

what did i get, you ask? a yardstick. (that's a lie--as soon as they're healed i'll take some pics and post them.)