Places everyone, places!
Tattoo (see what I did there? no? so young...so so young). I'm here to talk to you about the tattoo. I don't have tattoos. By the time I decided there was something I was passionate enough about in order to justify using permanent ink on my delicate skin, I was a dad. And I had other shit to deal with. And it seemed...self indulgent. And Leslie wasn't a fan. It was something I didn't NEED. So I didn't do it. But, as previously mentioned, now I'm doing it.
Today I met with an artist to talk about designing something. I gave him a deposit. And February 26th I have my first sitting. He said 5 hours. Then two more sittings. That's a lot of sitting. And hours. And ink. All in.
I mentioned before that I was looking now at an owl. And that's all I'll say for now. From now until February 26th he's going to work on the design and when I go sit down for five hours...I hope to have a design that I'm happy with and that means something to me.
I was excited to go to the consult. We spent an hour talking about it. He wrapped a page around my arm and marked it off so he had the design dimensions. And then we looked at pictures and I told him what my vision was. And he quickly sketched up some things and asked questions and took notes. And then I left, $100 poorer, but excited.
On my way to pick up my weekly Pad Thai, I stopped by the jeweler to check on my ring re-sizing. "You have your envelope?"
"Well, do you know your order number?"
"No. But...I DO know my name."
They hadn't called me, but it seemed like long enough to resize a ring 1/2 a ring size to ME. And apparently it was. Because my ring was ready. Good to have it back.