23. Get a tattoo

Yup, I have permanently scarred my body with a tattoo. It’s a cattoo actually… a tattoo of a cat.

I’ve wanted a tattoo for a very long time. Back when I graduated university, I decided to mark the occasion with a tattoo, but I never followed through. I couldn’t decide what to get permanently applied to my body. I’m not exactly trendy so I didn’t want Chinese characters or Celtic symbols. Plus I’m neither Chinese nor Celtic. People made suggestions but then I realized I didn’t want my tattoo to be a permanent reminder of whoever suggested the right symbol or design. So I didn’t do it.

Approaching my 40^th birthday countdown, I knew I wanted to resurrect the tattoo idea. It finally occurred to me that I still love cats. I had a cat back in University (but he stayed home with Mom and Dad). I had cat posters and cat trinkets. Twenty-eight years later, I have two spunky cats that I dote on. I have a few new, more subtle cat trinkets and I’ve moved on from posters to framed art prints of original cat paintings. It made sense that my tattoo would be a cat.

I chose my upper thigh because I wanted a fleshy tattoo-location that wouldn’t hurt too much. Also, it’s a location that nobody sees unless 1) I’m swimming, or 2) I choose to show them.

Best of all, it didn’t hurt at all! I don’t think my tattoo artist, James, put any numbing solution on my leg, but so many people have asked me that question I’m starting to wonder. But it really didn’t hurt. It just felt like scratching. It was over really quickly too, because my tattoo is only an inch tall. Now I’m waiting for it to heal, rubbing in cream three times each day and trying not to scratch it when it itches.

When I told my Facebook community that I was getting a tattoo for my birthday, a wise friend commented: “You can have mine. I don’t want it anymore.” For now, I love my tattoo. I hope it remains that way.