My attempts to break into the artistic field included a rather pathetically rendered Easter Egg coloring contest that I was told that “I won” only to then be told when I went to claim my prize “WHOOPS, PSYCH! You didn’t!” and something I liked to call “donuts floating in pee” during my high school years (it was a still life). I may have many talents, like be able to properly blow spit bubbles, but being artistic is not one of them.

So, when I couldn’t find the proper phoenix tattoo years ago, I gave up and waited until I could. I certainly wasn’t going to draw it and because I really didn’t know what I wanted, I didn’t know anyone else who could do what I wanted, either. Last I checked, artists weren’t really mind readers.

Imagine my shock when I lazily googled “phoenix” last week, and this popped up (I can’t manage to resize it, sorry):

abstract-phoenix

What makes it weird is that my old design, Notepad Chaos, was based on this design, from Web Designer Wall, which was created by Nick La, who made this design. It seems an odd bit of synchronicity to me. The Internet is a big place and to randomly come across this is just…

Anyway.

My friend, WhyIsDaddyCryin on Twitter recommended a local tattoo artist in Chicago who normally books out 3 months in advance who just happened to have an appointment on Sunday available. Trust me, I was more excited about this than I was about Christmas. Probably because it didn’t involve tearing apart more fucking twist ties and I could sit still without having to get anyone anything for more than 5 minutes at a time.

This is Step 1.

Phoenix Tattoo 1

No, I am not that yellow.

Phoenix Tattoo 2

See, I’m much more pasty than yellow.

Phoenix Tattoo 3

My phoenix. I couldn’t be any happier if it were all done and I wasn’t in pain.

It took an hour and a half of sitting in really odd positions to get this done and it goes most of the way down my back which is MUCH BIGGER than I’d figured that I’d get. But it looks fabulous. Only now I’m all, it needs to have something on the OTHER SIDE to balance it out. What, I don’t know, but something.

And honestly, after the foot tattoo, the pain of this was nothing. Some areas were sensitivER than others but I never wept and I never had to have her stop because I couldn’t tolerate it for another second. Weeping in front of tattoo people is pretty embarrassing even if the tears are just kind of leaking out because, you know, how hardcore can you look when you’re CRYING?

I’m going back in 4 weeks on January 26 (because I know you’ll all want to stalk my ass) to get the color done–all vibrant colors, are you surprised?–and I’m pumped. The tattoo is AMAZING and better than I could have imagined.

I’m in some pain today, especially since it’s January and I can barely wear clothes, but that’s okay. I’ll lovingly caress my Vicodin bottle with my tongue as I tell you my OTHER secret. I got a job blogging for yet ANOTHER site.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to try and find some position to sit in that doesn’t cause me excruciating pain and make out with my Tylenol bottle.

Comments = full of the awesome. Like gravy. I can haz an RSS RSS feed .

204 Responses to Emotional Rescue, or Why I Am Humping My Vicodin Bottle

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