It’s just getting too healthy around here. With all this early to bed and early to rise, the oatmeal and the flax seed and the lack of caffeine and Diet Pepsi, I’m starting to feel, except for the use of mechanical devices, rather monastic.
At nearly 45, I’m supposed to have these adolescent flings with societally-snubbing behavior behind me. But a little voice keeps wheedling at me that I have to do something, if not drastic, at least a little shocking.
Therefore it’s time to develop an elegant vice. Which is perfectly proper for ladies of a certain age. Hey, if guys can have midlife crises and buy a red sports car and Speedos, then I can do the equivalent.
Except it would have to be something far more tasteful and less cliché. So no facelifts for me. No Madame Bovary with the groundskeeper.
I could be like those dance hall madams and keep a flask in my garter. Except I don’t wear garters and I’m on too much medication to drink.
Or take snuff and spit, but that sounds really disgusting.
Sky-high stilettos? Out of the question.
Body piercing? One of those little eyebrow rings, perhaps. Those are kind of cute. But I doubt husband will let me back into the house if I come home with one of those. Any others I’m hinky about since I have so many allergies. It would figure that I’d get some kind of exotic infection that will send my doctor to his books or call in his colleagues not for a consultation but for sheer entertainment’s worth. That’s never good.
Ditto breast enhancement.
I know some of you are voting for the blue hair, but don’t hold your breath.
That’s why I’ve settled upon a tattoo to commemorate my birthday. At first I thought, oh, that sounds so permanent, but so are the pierced ears I’ve had since I was four. It could be small and elegant, strategically placed. Future potential employers would never know.
Unless you decide to tell them.
I’m pretty sure I know what I want and where I’ll have it (at a little shop in town), but design suggestions will be entertained.
No clichés, please.
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6 comments:
Hell, I stopped holding my breath long ago (and you looked so GOOD for Halloween!) A tattoo, huh? Ok, how about crossed pens on your left shoulder? Something Celtic/Druidic on your ankle (some bog-man had 3 horizontal blue lines on the inside of one ankle for unknown reasons). No butterflies, please. In July will passers-by be able to see it?
Get a tattoo of your inflamed vertebrae directly over them.
One of my many irrational fears (okay, this one probably doesn't really qualify...but close) is getting a tattoo and then, as I age and it sags, becoming the object of ridicule at the nursing home. The staff coming in to change my diaper and laughing at the misshapen celtic symbols sliding down my ass. Just saying, that you should probably bear in mind where it's likely to end up later, when choosing location. Good luck and enjoy your mid-life crisis!! The main thing is they're supposed to be fun!!
Thanks, all, for the suggestions!
FB: cool ideas. Or Boris Badenov?
Nate, interesting idea...or a target for the PT's ultrasound.
MEP, come July, only passers-by with X-ray vision will notice.
Tammy...hey, if I can give some poor overworked nursing home staffer something to laugh about, so much the better!
LOL! Better you than me, Opus!! (I fear I'll be giving them plenty to laugh about without a tattoo!)
You go girl!!!!! I count getting a tattoo as one of my greatest accomplishments!!! And, the 8th grade bully who often beat me up went w/me & got one also! We had met up @ our 25th highschool reunion & decided to bury the hatchet by doing something together -- so we did tattoos. My ob/gyn was so impressed w/it that he showed me the lovely one on his upper arm!! Better to regret what we do, then what we don't do -- go for it!!!!
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