In February last year I had some money to spend and put it out there on Facebook whether I should finally get the tatt or buy some boots. Predictably ('cos my FB friends are a fun bunch) the ensuing arguments either way were pretty hilarious, culminating in my, egged on by Extranjera, posting this little visual representation of my dilemma.
But of course, I did neither and spent the cash instead on ... god knows, something worthwhile
I started getting a sneaking suspicion that actually, I didn't want a tattoo. And I actually really don't. I love them, on other people. I admire them often, on other people. I like to look at them on Pinterest and I love to judge them in public, but for me? Not so much.
Thank god I realised this before I got one. And thank GOD I'll never feel like these fools ...