All I ever needed to know I learned at a tattoo parlor.

Over a decade ago I made a mistake. (Thank you, jagermeister.) A few years later I tried to fix said mistake by wrapping it in a somewhat pretty border, with dreams of it magically making me happy. It didn't. Way more often than not, a mistake will never make you happy. So you live with it, deal with it, ignore it and try to move on. But it's difficult to move on when the mistake rears it's sneering little head at you when you glance in the mirror, when the mistake makes a 4 inch section of your back the laughing-stock of your whole body: giggles and hollers from the stomach, jeers and pity from the legs. The head, then hands, the feet and most loudly, the eyes all point and laugh at the mistake, "HA! you dork. Why'd you go and do that?" And by that, I mean this:


Sigh. My lower lumbar of shame.

Well as it turns out, if you can't change history, you can at least make a valiant attempt to cover it up. And the effort of Alice at Infinity Tattoo proved to be more than just valiant, it was brilliant.

It was a two-part process and took altogether about 7 hours of Alice's time. Bless her heart for having a steady hand and artistic patience. Not to mention the design. It was all her. She took my blabbering jibberish of what I had in mind "Umm, an owl, on a branch, with lots of color, kind of sugar skull-ish/day of the dead-ish....and add two owlets....and whimsy! I like whimsy!" and she, well, she did it!



I love love love it. Thank you, Alice. I'm bringing cookies this week.

And thank you to the other artists who kept the conversation lively. And to the dude from Humboldt who got the redwood on his arm, it was a pleasure to meet you. And to the contractors who advertise on Craigslist, we're on to you. And to Demi Moore, most people like you, they just think you have a bitchy face. And to Kirk Cameron, it's best if you just stay hidden, like my palm tree henna-bordified tattoo -- may its shame rest in peace.