ink free

For years I've been banging on about getting a tattoo. Like, literally, YEARS. But something's always held me back - excuses about cash and design and location and just ... ja, sometime soon ...

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.

The design on the left obviously being my maybe tattoo - dolphins, stars, lightening bolts, skull with Hello Kitty bow. Full back I was thinking. What?
But of course, I did neither and spent the cash instead on ... god knows, something worthwhile I'm sure I hope.

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 ...