So I got a tattoo.

Somehow, the car couldnt go fast enough. Every traffic light seemed too long and the road stretched on longer than normal. I wanted to be there right now.

This happens everytime I want something. It takes me a long time to decide whether or not I REALLY want a thing, but once the decision is made, I do not want to wait. At all.

Finally, I pulled into the parking lot as my heart started racing and my hands shook. Inside, three men lounged on a couch near the window. I tried to keep my hands still enough to unplug my ipod and stick it in my purse.

I was alone. I didnt want anyone else to go with me because I wanted to be able to do it all by myself, without support.

Inside, one of the three lounging men asked me what I wanted. I explained. All three offered their opinions on the negetive qualities of white ink before deciding which would tattoo me. It was a scary five minutes as the artist, Nate, prepared the area, his tools, and my stencil. My hands continued to shake and I wondered if that would negetively affect the tattoo.

Finally, I was sitting in the chair as he got ready to place the stencil on my wrist. I explained tohim that I wanted the word to face me and he smiled and said I wanted it the wrong way. I was making him letter backwards and in white ink. I told him he could probably use the challange. The stencil was in the perfect place and I admitted I was scared. Nate assured me that he would hurt me as little as possible. Then, the gun came on in the most terrifying buzzing noise as he dipped it in the ink and then brought it towards my skin.

"Are you ready?" He asks, and I say I am. I brace myself for a pain that will make me cry. I am ready for something more than I can handle. I remember that "massage" I got on the cruise where I nearly asked her to stop because I couldnt take the pain. It would be worse than that, I assured myself. I could handle it.

The needle touched my skin. The horrifying pain did not come. It felt nearly like a rubber band sting. I watched in fascination as he worked along each letter, wiping away excess ink. I kept waiting for the bad part to begin. It never hurt.

Now, I have the word "stronger" on my right wrist. I'll take a picture after it heals. Right now, its not so pretty.

Sarah Jo