Tu-tu Tattoosday!

After my earlier post about spoons and learning to evaluate reality before agreeing to every offer of fun times that comes my way, I decided that the spoon tattoo was definitely happening. I got a quick shower, put on a fun outfit, decided makeup was unnecessary, and got the hell out.

So, we got to Diabolik Ink and I discovered that Bob, my usual artist, wasn't working today. However, Erik, who did Jenny's tattoo about a month ago, was available. This sort of caught me off guard. Bob's been there every time I've been in since the first time he tattooed me. I sort of stammered out "Well. Uhh. You're good, right? Duh, what am I thinking, of course you're good, Jenny's tattoos look awesome." GOD ALMIGHTY AT THE FLAVOR OF SHOE LEATHER. He seemed unfazed by my unintentional rudeness, and we talked about what I wanted. He got the initial drawing done, and Brandell and I left to go grab a burger since we'd barely eaten and I'd hate to pass out, and when I got back, I decided to be a mega-dork and email myself with some content for this post. LOL

Currently sitting at the shop waiting for Erik to prep everything. I'm getting a spoon on the inside of my left wrist. Told him why, and the drawing came back with some red liquid in the spoon. Spoon with meds? Fuck yes, even better. So yes, I am tattoo-cheating on Bob today, but this...this just had to happen. I feel like it's important to cement my new reality in my head in a very real, permanent way. It will be a reminder to consider how I actually feel and my current mental and physical state before over committing. That sometimes, it's ok to put my needs first. And I'll always have an extra spoon when I'm running low.

Right about then, Erik bee-lined for the door to smoke a cig, so I followed him out for "Smoke 'em if you've got 'em" time. We went back to his booth, and I saw he'd added a red and orange sun behind the spoon. Oh sweet lord, yes.

See, all I'd told him earlier was that I'd recently been diagnosed with fibromyalgia and wanted a tattoo of a spoon. He didn't know what fibromyalgia is, or about the whole "spoons" concept, or that being diagnosed after three years of misery really is like the dawn of a whole new life for me. As he worked, I explained all of this to him, and we both thought it was definitely...interesting that he'd come up with that without any input from me.

What I'd requested as a simple line drawing just grew and grew in complexity and color and depth. This is by far one of my most beautiful tattoos, hands down. It's number 10 for me, and I hate to say this because it almost always jinxes me (the artist moves to a bigger city), but I think I've found MY artist.

There's just no words for how much I love it. The detail is impeccable. The treatment of transparent and reflective surfaces is unlike anything I've ever seen. Holy balls, Batman, this guy is GOOD.

(Never mind the mirror images, I was screwing with FXCamera on my Droid and wound up getting a better picture than the previous one. LOL)

After a trip to Big Lots in which we purchased everything but what we meant to purchase, we stopped by Captain D's to pick up some dinner. We were both beat.

After we ate, Brandell used the cat as a pillow while I took my meds and changed into my pajamas.

...I gotta say, it was a good day.

<3