This Time The Mark It leaves Is Socially Acceptible.

Normally when a new permanent line or word appears on my body, it's something I can't talk about. Social taboo. Nobody wants to hear about how you're suffering and what you did to yourself to deal with it. This time I went to the tattoo parlor, and it wasn't my suffering that caused it.
It was a guy in a camouflage bandanna named Eric. Always with the Erics.
I went in a few days ago to price the thing, my raggedy ann heart. The woman was wonderful and I wished I had enough money to do it then and there. But I didn't, and she said 100 dollars and it was 100 dollars.
When I came back earlier today the place was crowded. What place? Tatu Tatoo on north. It's the place right down the street and I chose close over inexpensive or talented. It's a simple design so it didn't matter. Thought I would be waiting forever, but it only took about 15 minutes before my tattoo artist, Eric, came down and hooked me up. He put my design into the computer(and by put my design into the computer, i mean opened up photoshop, pulled up a heart and put the text inside), and made the stencil thing.
Half an hour later I walked out 100 dollars lighter and with a tattoo. It didn't hurt like people said it would. It's real, real sharp. Looks like a stamp. If you haven't seen it, check out the photo blog.