So...the month of February is almost over and I've made it out relatively unscathed, for the most part. Few bumps and bruises here and there, but nothing I can't handle as I eternally reminded myself a mere 26 days ago.
February 1st...I got my first tattoo Yes, my very first one, contrary to popular belief. I had been thinking about it for a few years now and finally decided to pull the trigger and have it done. Many, many years ago I saw a Clint Eastwood movie starring himself as Gunny Highway ('Gunny' is the shortened word for the rank of gunnery sergeant in the USMC, for those of you who did not know) in which he said the line 'adapt and overcome', or something to that effect. I know there was more to it, and I can't for the life of me remember what it was. Unimportant. That line has stuck with me for many years as I've gone through my trials and tribulations in relationships, my recovery from drug and alcohol addiction, two failed marriages, several different jobs that I liked very much that didn't work out well, dropping out of college several times, and a few different health difficulties I've had to face. In all of those situations...I have adapted to the challenges I've had to face and I have overcome them in turn (for the most part). Still working on working myself up to quitting smoking, but that's a tough one no matter who the hell you are so I'm not gonna dog myself about it too awful much. My father had quit smoking cold turkey and never smoked again another day in his life. I know for a fact I will never be a tenth of the man he was, and I'm OK with that...truly I am.
Got off on a tangent there...my bad. So, yeah...my tattoo. It says the words 'adapt and overcome' down the middle of my spine, but it's not in a language that many people would understand. I didn't want to get it in anything that everyone and his brother usually gets their tattoos in...no Olde English, no hieroglyphics, and nothing you'd normally see in Gangland USA. So, I thought of a few other obscure languages that people normally don't see and/or use. I had it narrowed down to Braille, Morse code, and binary code. I thought long and tirelessly about this for quite some time...about three years on and off with quite a bit of seriousness. In the end...Morse code won the battle.
So, I brought my design to my friend Jake, owner of Twisted Skull Studios in the third week in January and we went over details and placement and all that good stuff, and I made my appointment to come in and get it done right away on the first of the month. Longest two weeks of my life, I shit you not. First of the month comes...I got up in the morning and I ALMOST psyched myself out of it. I thought everything under the sun...I don't need it, don't want it, can't afford it, it'll hurt, I'll get addicted to them and want more, and blah blah blah and so on and so forth. Nope...I stuck to my guns and walked in the door at 1000 sharp. Got all prepped and ready...Jake says "Here, have a seat in this chair and relax." Then...panic set in. OMG ITS GONNA FUCKING HURT AND IM GONNA CRY LIKE A PUSSY. Yeah...that's what went through my head...no shit. Didn't utter a sound. I sucked it up and I told my self no matter how much it hurt I would sit through it and get it done. I was committed and there was no going back at this point.
Now then...Morse code, as you know, is a series of dots and dashes. A couple letters have only one dot or dash, but most have a combination of two, three and even four. So, it wasn't just one tattoo I was getting...it was several dozen small ones all in a row going right down my spine, or so I had it stuck in my head. The first character was an E, the one on the very bottom. An 'E' in Morse code is just one dot...no big deal. In my design, the dots are relatively small...about the size of the leftovers of a paper punch. Jake prepared me that he was starting, and I steeled my nerves. There was pain, I won't lie...but it wasn't a painful pain. It was more of an annoying kind of pain, like a mild bee sting or a cat scratch. One part down...39 to go, if I counted right. The rest were not bad...a few were more painful than others, but for the most part...very tolerable.
I know, I know...this was probably a lot more mentally anguishing for me than it needed to be, and I'm REEEEEALLY good at making mountains out of molehills. But you know, this was something that I knew I was going to have to live with for the rest of my life, and for a long time I was not OK with that, but I am now. Even if I'm not in the future...I'm stuck with it, and that's alright with me.
