When Pigs Fly

Mom. Nana. Diva. Nazi Mom. Bitch.

Those are all names I've been called and I answer to most of them. Today, however, I was a baby, a big, freaking, baby.

I had decided a few weeks ago to get another tattoo. I know, I wasn't gonna do it again, and not on my back. Well things change. I had just happened to pick up a tattoo magazine and saw this incredible tattoo on a girls back and fell in love with it. I thought about it for awhile and decided to go for it.

Boy, did I go for it! It's huge, it goes from below my tan line to around the tip of my shoulder. I thought about all the negative aspects of having another tat. From embarrassing my kids to the attendants in the nursing home when I'm eighty speculating on what type of girl I had been. Nikki said she'll take care of me so I guess the nursing home thing is out. Also, I didn't want anything that I couldn't hide.

All that aside, there was the pain side of things. I guess I really didn't think that one through well enough. The only places I thought I'd have problems with were around my ribs and my shoulder blade. What an idiot!

When I got to the shop (Living Art in Gresham) Dominick (awesome!) had the picture drawn. When he put it up to my back for me to check it out I could have sworn I saw pigs flying right by the window. Well that was the sign. I was going for it.

Dominick led us back through the hallways of the dungeon of pain into his room. Still not too late. I could pay him for his time and run. Thinking back I'm not really sure why I didn't. Dominick cleaned my back and applied the stencil. I loved it! As he got everything ready I took a couple of deep breaths and a Xanex.

When he was ready to begin he told me to sit on the table and lean over to stretch out my back. So I'm thinking "I have a little extra padding back there, no problem, I can do this". I must have been hallucinating. The second he touched my skin with that gun I knew it wasn't gonna be pretty, the Diva was going to lose it.

Holy mother of God! "Dammit Dominick!" Then I heard thuds, pig were falling to the ground! They tricked me, they hadn't been flying, they must have been jumping. Sly little bastards! Last time I trust a pig. Time for another Xanex.

I began to breathe deeply. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate. Didn't work. Although I didn't cry, I'm sure Dominick heard things from me that he's only heard from drunken sailors before. Not sure why it helped, but it did.

After about two and a half hours I'd had enough. The outline was completed and he had began shading. I was able to compose myself enough to yell for him to stop before I turned around and grabbed him by the throat. No, that never crossed my mind, although I did wonder why the hell I was paying for him to do this to me.

Dominick was great. He always is. He put up with me and did an awesome job even though I'm sure I was being a complete pain in his butt. So now I'm home and already dreading the next session in June. When it's done though, I'll love it and Dominick will be my hero for putting up with Diva turned Baby.