The Midlife Crisis
22 Mar 2011 3 Comments
in Slightly Insane Tags: Husband, Mommy, Turning 40
So yes. I had one. A midlife crisis. A full on mind blowing, heart bleeding ball of crap. I judged where I was in my life. My home. My weight. The singularity that has become my butt. It was pretty weird and intense.
I can see why people go slightly off the rails and wander off with hot Latino men on motorbikes. Although that seriously is not my cup of tea. The Husband drives me nuts but he is adorable.
I am vile at motorbikes, as my brother will tell you. When he tried to teach me I panicked, forgot where the brakes were and jumped off the bike. Sad, sad, sad.
So those options were out.
The next line of midlife crisising took me down the route of the pneumatic blonde. Yeah. Couple of issues there. Firstly I don’t have a secretary, much less a hot blonde one, and secondly I am not entirely sure that a faintly poor wordsmith is what those types go for. I’d need a BMW in my non-existent garage at the very least.
So it became a journey of thought. I read up about Woman vs. Midlife Crisis. I had meaningful baths. I ate cake. I ate even more cake (I now regret the cake). I shouted at things.
Then I decided to do one thing I have always wanted to do. I decided to get a dragon tattoo.
No. Not like the movie. I am older than her.
Since I was 12 I loved the Anne McCaffrey Pern series. I desperately wanted my own telepathic link with a dragon. I was gutted that they were not real. They transported me as I read, re-read and read them again and again.
I am re-reading them now. Again.
I realised that, at the tender age of 39-going-on-40 I could actually turn off my father’s voice in my head that said, “You will NOT get a tattoo!!” and actually just go and get a tattoo.
So I did. Last Saturday I went into the tattoo parlour and started the outline of my dragon.
Now it took planning. I didn’t just amble down the road and think, “Oooh needles!” and bounce gaily into the tattoo parlour, stripping clothes as I skipped.
Nope. I spent hours searching for the artists who did the cover art. Found the cover that had me mesmerised as a child. Printed it out, and the artist then adapted it for my back. The picture you see above is without a wing on the left, my tattoo has that wing.
It hurt. Ooooh that left shoulder hurt. No idea why it hurt more than the right, but it hurt.
I don’t think it makes me white trash, or weird (ok, it probably makes me weird) or any of the other stupid stereotypes attached to big tattoos. It makes me feel gorgeous and young and fabulous.
Below is the shot of my shoulder being tattooed by the artist. The needle looks very terrifying. Zoinks, as Scooby would say…
Next week I go in for the shading, and then the next week will be the colouring. I will share each stage. There will be no scabby, bleeding, shocking back shots. Ok? I have SOME self esteem. The shot below is a bit red but, hey, it isn’t bleeding or leaking. Look if you dare.
The red at the bottom is from sticky tape. Yeah, he wrapped me in clingfilm…
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3 Comments (+add yours?)
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Mar 29, 2011 @ 10:24:59
It makes me feel gorgeous and young and fabulous.
You ARE gorgeous young and fabulous
Mar 23, 2011 @ 07:41:21
Congrats Tam! I got a tattoo myself this past weekend as well. My first. Not to put you off, but for me the line work was not nearly as bad as the shading and colouring. Lots of people say that it’s the other way around for them. Either way, good luck
nicolascallegari recently posted..I did it!
Mar 23, 2011 @ 09:51:27
Oooh! How about showing me a pic then??? Go on. Dying to see it. I have had a smaller tattoo before, about 20 years ago (my GOD I am old) and the colouring tickled. I am hoping this will be the case for this because the outline was sore!