Starting to live with the tattoo

As Trevor finished up the tattoo, he said, "People will think of you differently now. And they will react differently, too." I knew what he meant, but I hadn't given it much thought until he said that. After all, in every other way, I don't fit the profile of a tattoo-sporting woman.

An hour or so after getting the tattoo, I needed to run an errand to the photo store where they know me. After completing the transaction -- where my hand was in full view -- I said to Joe,
"Notice anything different about me?"
He replied, "Are you taller?"
I said, "Ah, that's good to hear. But what do you think of my hand?"
"Did you spill some paint on it?"
This guy should be in comedy.
I showed him the parrot. He said, "Does it talk?"
Why didn't I think of that? I should have positioned it so the beak was movable!

Actually, I thought this was pretty good for the first reaction. I loved the paint spill idea and may use it myself. And as far as the parrot talking, that's something to consider, too.

The next day, I didn't say anything at a business appointment. But one woman who knows me, after a few minutes, said with a big smile, "What's that on your hand?" I showed her and she responded, "I love it!" She said it was easy for her to see it in a positive light because one of her sons has several body piercings and a tattoo. OTOH, when her colleague saw it, she was convinced it was temporary. She couldn't believe that I would do such a thing. (I think I may get a lot of that kind of reaction. If a group of my friends or acquaintances was asked, Guess who got a tattoo, I don't think my name would be the first one mentioned.)

On Friday afternoon, I was with someone where both of us were using our hands quite a bit. She said nothing and I didn't bring it up.

Late Saturday afternoon, I ate dinner with a friend I haven't seen in person in about 20 years, even though we talk on the phone from time to time. Only near the end of dinner did I ask him what he thought. He said he had seen something on my hand during our meal but he wasn't sure what it was. I think he meant by that, that he saw it was a tattoo but he couldn't believe it. Yet he was very gracious about it and didn't seem negatively judgmental about it.

At church, one person began to admire my nails, which as you can see by the photos are a dark, dark maroon - almost black. Perhaps she was interested in the nails; or perhaps she actually wanted to hear about the tattoo. At any rate, she said, "Leave it to you to be up to date!" That was cool. The polish is, in fact, very up to date. I don't know whether the tattoo is. In retrospect, I think she wasn't really sincere.

A couple of people said, "It's going to be hell to remove." And I'm thinking, "Why would I do that? I love it."

Someone asked if the parrot has a name. Hmmmmm. I've pretty much decided the parrot will not be given a name.

In the several weeks since getting it done, I most enjoy the reaction of younger people. They love it -- and say so!

Getting the tattoo
The photos are in reverse order. The bottom ones are at the beginning, with the stencil.

On November 8th I got the tattoo. It's been so busy since then that I haven't had a minute to tell you about it.

Trevor, the tattoo artist, copied the photo of the parrot that I had given him into a "realistic" style instead of traditional tattoo style. I'm glad.

I had to sign a paper that said things such as I am in good health, have no diseases, that I will not hold the studio or the artist responsible for any problems that might arise. It also says that if I misbehave at the studio that they can throw me out!

I've attached a couple photos of how he did the work. Unfortunately these aren't particularly perfect shots because I didn't want to disturb him; plus, since the tattoo was going onto my left hand, I was holding the camera with my right hand. Don't be concerned about the red stains on the paper towel in one of the photos. That's mainly the red ink when he wipes away the excess from where he's been working.

You can see the photo that shows the culmination of Trevor's handiwork. And a photo of the artist. I was thrilled with his work!

It took a little over an hour from sign-in to payment time. At its widest point the parrot is only an inch across and about 3-1/2" long.

The area around the tattoo was tender and swollen for a couple of days, decreasing as time passed. The instructions said to gently wash it twice a day (morning and night) with an anti-bacterial non-fragrance soap. Trevor mentioned Dial. And three times a day put a moisturizer on it. He mentioned Curel. The instructions say not to put the tattoo in a body of water, such as a tub, bowl, sink, pool, or the ocean. Also, one shouldn't let the "pounding" of a shower or other water source hit it directly.

If he said it once, he said it 1/2 a dozen times: Let the scab come off by itself. Pulling at it prematurely, he said, will cause it to take longer to heal, and may interfere with the design. My scab came off by last week. My daughter said that hers came off pretty quickly, in tiny, little pieces, like flakes. She thinks it was because her tattoos are where clothing rests and that putting a blouse on and off caused the pieces to come off.

It will be 4 weeks this Wednesday since I had it done and it is beautiful. I love it!

Yes, I'm thinking about getting a tattoo. I've wanted one for years; just haven't had the nerve to do it. Plus, I only wanted one and I found it hard to choose from an infinite selection the perfect one for me. The perfect statement. I didn't want "merely" a rose or butterfly or daffodil because it seemed that's a common choice for women and girls.

A couple of weeks ago I watched Miami Ink on the TLC channel. Then earlier this week, they were having a "Miami Ink Marathon." I watched several shows in a row. Suddenly I got the perfect idea -- at least for me.

I love color. And I love parrots. So, my choice is a blue and red parrot. But I don't want it on my back or even shoulder where I can't see it. I further decided that if I want to see it, the best place would be the back of my hand which, obviously, I see all the time. [I also thought it might hide or at least disguise a couple of age spots!]

Today I visited an ink place and talked to Trevor, the dude in charge. It was about Noon and that's their opening time. He was working on a guy's shoulder, painting on the design. After watching Miami Ink and this young guy work, you realize they are artists; it's just that their canvas isn't linen or wood; it's skin. And instead of hanging it in your living room, you take it with you everywhere!

I asked him how he worked around wrinkles. Okay, I have a few. He said he's done his 80-year-old grandmother and it came out fine. And I'm figuring that on my hand it won't be quite so wrinkly as some other spots.

Of course I asked him what the needle feels like. He said it's like a cat scratch that never stops. Hmmmm. That sounds a bit scary. My daughter has a couple of tattoos on tender spots and she said it's not that bad.

Last May we visited our local zoo and I took photos of a couple of the parrots there. I'm going to take one of those to the tattoo artist.

Actually, one of my young friends does tattoos. I may get in touch with him before going elsewhere for the actual work. I haven't seen or heard from him until just recently after a lapse of a couple of years. His life style has changed dramatically. Whereas before he was often living on the street, now he's married, has a couple of babies, and holds a regular job as a graphic artist. I'm not sure whether he even does tattoos any more.

What do you think about an upper-50-ish woman getting a tatto? Would you do it? Why or why not?

When I get problems, I usually don't talk about them because it depresses me even more. Usually I'll talk about them after they're solved. But last night. Well, this post is just to let you know . . .

Over the weekend I heard the pitter-patter of tiny feet. I wouldn't believe it was a mouse or even mice. But on Tuesday, I saw the scat in several places around the house. Couldn't deny it any longer.
Fifteen years ago we had them and used those sticky mouse traps to get rid of them. I did not, do not, want to do that again. So I've bought some "bars" (little green squares made by Real Kill) that supposedly poison them humanely. The trick is to hope that they die outside. Yesterday the lady who cleans for me found some rotted wood above the back door, near the top of the frame where they could enter some crawl space, maybe even get into the attic. We need to repair and replace that opening.
Last night I put all twelve bars around the house, against the wall per instructions. When I checked on them this morning, they were in perfect condition. In other words -- not one nibble! Not a good thing.

Then, yesterday evening, after finishing dinner with my girl friend, I started to rinse the dishes when the double sink backed up. The last time this happened was a few days after hubby died. It was a mess getting it fixed.

I put some Zep Drain Care down and hoped that by this morning things would be better. It's brown granules you mix in warm water and then pour the mixture down the drain; in my case, the garbage disposal. It says to wait six hours and repeat if necessary. So I did it last night, this morning, and this afternoon. I think there may be a slight difference. I'll do it once more before I go to bed. Hopefully by morning it will be open. But then again, who knows?

If it works, it's a lot easier than going up on the roof and putting a "snake" down the drain. I cannot do this myself because the snake is a heavy and awkward thing that I cannot lift, let alone carry up a ladder to the roof (and down again).

Some days . . .