Are You A Vegetarian?

If Brian doesn't bald naturally
I may Nair his head while he
sleeps simply so he can do this
when he is old.

Let me preface this whole post with the disclaimer that all this happened when I was eighteen. Freshly eighteen.  Newly eighteen.  The eighteen where you're all, "Of course I should get a tattoo with no prior planning or thought for future life."

So I'm pretty sure I win the contest for the world's best decisions for tattoo design and placement.

My first tattoo started off as an ancient Greek hieroglyphic (current research* indicates that it's totally not Greek and actually Germanic, which, because of the hidden word "manic" I am inclined to believe, seeing as the tattoo getting was during a particularly high point of life.)(High on emotion, not crack.) that I spontaneously decided I needed tattooed on my body forever, and promptly forgot why it was so meaningful within a month of having it inked. After some more research* I was reminded of the rune's meaning.  I probably embraced the secondary meaning of "protection" and glossed over the primary meaning of "ELK".  Awesome.) I got it tattooed smack in the middle of my upper back.  It looked like this:

It was like a bird walked in blue paint and stepped on my back.

After about six months I decided I needed that changed into something that truly embodied "me".  I thought (for about an hour) of what that rune could successfully morph into, eliminating ideas that were too big and settling on a tree.

I like to know people like this.
This is a "glass half full" outlook.

I quickly went to the first available tattoo artist (those that are free at a moments notice are usually free for a reason, FYI) and declared, "I'd like this turned into a tree."  Since she answered, "We can make the roots exposed, that'd be cool,"  I was all, Yes!  This woman totally gets me.

While me and Tattoo Lady may have connected on some mental/emotional level, we missed the connection where she is a decent artist that I pay good money to use my body as a permanent canvas. What I ended up with is some weird looking hybrid of an African baobab tree and a smushy bonsai.  With exposed roots. So yeah, it's totally international.

"Kel, why couldn't Brian help you take a picture of your back tattoo?"
Good question.  He was busy practicing music for the band I'm not allowed in.

Also, this font is huge, which makes this statement seem way more passive aggressive than it is.

One time I went swimming with Sarah's boss, Dr. S.  (Sarah was totally there as well.  It wasn't like I was just hanging out with Sarah's boss.)(I mean, I'm not against that or anything; he's a cool dude.)(But this was the first time I'd met him, so it was really appropriate Sarah was there as well is all I'm saying.)

We were completing our laps at that homewrecker Lifetime Fitness when Dr. S stopped me and asked, "Are you a vegetarian?"  I must have looked really confused but quickly said, "No.  I'm totally all about meat." (Of course I did; and I meant it completely innocently, as well.)

He explained, "I just wondered because of your tattoo."

He continued, "If you're not a vegetarian, then why do you have a tattoo of broccoli?"

Awesome.

(You don't even want to see the angel that graces my lower abdomen.  Poor thing has survived four pregnancies and the resulting C-sections.  Now it's more like a cherub.)

I'm all about pretty tattoos.  Just Think before you Ink, my friends.

*research = Google.