"un-Steph-like"

I got inked.

(OMG, it's permanent!)

So, I've wanted a tattoo for a really, really long time. Like since college. But I could never decide where I wanted it, much less what it would be. I hemmed and hawed for over a decade. Then earlier this summer I had an epiphany - I suddenly knew where (foot) and what (penguin), and it just felt right. But yet I was still afraid to commit.

I waited a few months, then started "practicing." I gave myself a "tattoo" with a permanent marker, just to get used to the idea:

Then I started asking around for suggestions of artists to go to. Each time I brought the subject up, I felt like such a fraud. I worried that people would call me out and say "you can't get a tattoo! You're way too straight-laced!" or something to that effect. And yet they never did. They were supportive and excited for me - craziness!

So then in early October I finally got the nerve up to call around for a consultation appointment. (Even though some of my friends with tattoos, those who are little more impulsive than I, laughed and said "no one ever really gets a consultation - you just do it!" But I knew I certainly couldn't "just do it.") The first guy I called never called back (great customer service, huh?!), and the second woman I called was just about to go out of the country for a few weeks, but could offer me an appointment on November 5. Okay, Nov 5 it was!

As the weeks wore on, I was getting more and more excited. When the consultation appointment finally arrived, I dragged Mike along with me. Yes, I was a little afraid to go into a tattoo parlor all by myself. I have never felt more out of place in my life! It was a nice, clean place, and everyone was super friendly, but they were playing super loud, screaming music, and I was the only person in there without about eight tattoos clearly visible.

I don't think my artist, Sarah Jane, had ever dealt with anyone quite as anxious as I, but she patiently answered all my questions about hygiene, aftercare, and the procedure itself. She told me that an ankle tattoo (which I had originally planned - see above) would hurt like the dickens and would fade very quickly, so she helped me figure out a back-up plan. She then spent a good chunk of time with me to refine my design. I think she did a great job "artistifying" it!

Then came the time to schedule the procedure itself. I'll admit, I was a bit disappointed that I couldn't just do it right then, but also a bit relieved that I wasn't even given that option. When it came to scheduling, we found that our respective schedules were not at all compatible. Basically the only opening we both had prior to 2011 was the day after Thanksgiving. In other words, when my parents and grandma would all be in town. Great. Hmmmm.... After debating (silently, in my head), I rashly decided to "just go for it" - I didn't want to wait till 2011!

Now how to tell my parents... Mike's dad is a huge proponent of "it's better to ask forgiveness than to beg for permission," but that's not my M.O.   I role-played the conversation in my mind for several weeks, chickened out the next THREE times I talked to my parents, then finally got up the nerve while Mike was out of town (aka during my "weekend of misery"). It was pretty rough. My mom just said "really? you really want to do that?" about twelve times, and my dad asked "how much will it cost? will it hurt? .... If you're getting the shop minimum charge anyway, you should ask how big you can get it for the same price - really get your money's worth!" Sigh. But they both recommended that I not tell my grandma. Double sigh.

On Thanksgiving itself, I didn't really think about it much. That night, however, I slept horribly! I was soooo nervous. I don't think I've been that nervous since the GRE, my dissertation defense, or my last job interview. It was brutal. I felt like throwing up all day long. And I could barely concentrate. What was I thinking?! I came so close to backing out. Seriously, what was I thinking?!

Here's one last view of my unadulterated feet. (I had painted my toes earlier in the day, just so they'd look nice for the procedure!)

Here I am in the car, just before the appointment. Don't I look nervous?! My eyes are bloodshot from not having slept the night before.

After signing my life away some liability forms, I had several minutes to wait while she did the last minute prep work.  I tried desperately to read my Kindle, but I just kept skimming the same page of my book over and over again. Finally she led me back to her area of the studio. (Thank heavens she listened to music that was more tolerable than the owner in the front of the studio listened to!) The guy in the area right next to her's was getting a full arm sleeve. Yikes! And yet he looked so calm as he was getting the work done. I felt like throwing up even more.

I settled in, then we worked on getting the placement just right. It took three tries before I was happy with it. Then I watched her get all the materials ready. Seeing the tattoo gun (is that what it's even called?) in her hand almost gave me a panic attack. My hands were shaking and I couldn't get into a comfortable position. She said, "ready? Okay, here we go!" and then started.

There was no turning back at that point.

You know, the pain really wasn't that bad! It definitely hurt (anyone who says it "just tickles" is lying!), but it wasn't unbearable. On average I think it was about a 4/10, with certain times that it reached a peak of 6-7/10 for about 2-3 seconds, at which point I would start some relaxation exercises and the pain would pass. The best thing I can say is that the pain wasn't so bad that it would stop me from getting another one - not that I want another one, but I'm just sayin'.

Here I am, using my deep breathing / meditation skills - which really, really helped for pain management.

Here it is, in progress. And the whole thing took less than 5 minutes, not counting all the set up / take down time. In all, I was in and out the door in 45 minutes.

And here's the finished product! (Still healing, obviously.)

I absolutely adore it. I can't wait until I can take the tatu-derm (the antibacterial "sticker" that's currently allowing it to heal) off so I can enjoy it in its permanent beauty!

I haven't had any second thoughts yet, but I'm still in a bit of shock that I actually did it. It doesn't hurt at all, and the experience itself was so surreal that a part of me keeps wondering if I really did do it or if it was all just a dream. I've taken my sock off about 20 times today, just to remind myself that it's really there!

I'm such a rebel.  Tee hee.  :)

(P.S. I'll post a better picture in a week or two, once it's fully healed.)