So… I’ve been in kind of a funk lately.  Had lots of "moment"-altering decisions to make. Some were good; some were bad. And some… well, some I just put off for another moment altogether. Procrastination is, by far, one of my most favorite qualities. It is, truly, an art to be proud of — if one is capable of pulling it off nicely. And I sure do aim to pull off everything that I do as nicely as possible…

So… I went shopping. I know, I know. Typical, you say. Perhaps, I should clarify… I went out and bought a divine (yes, DIVINE) new eau de parfum and then took a little self-healing trip to the tattoo parlor.

Yes, tattoo parlor.

I love tattoos. I love getting them. I love seeing them. I love feeling them (for those of who actually have tattoos, you understand what I mean). And my super glow-in-the-dark skin is a perfect canvas for all of that fabulous colorful ink. Which means that I like big pieces. Really big pieces. In fact, all of my girlfriends are fond of saying, "I’m off to get a me tattoo.. not a Courtney tattoo, mind you, but a nice little [insert random girlie thing here]".

Today, however, I actually got something fairly small ( about the length of my thumb)and simple on the inside of my right wrist. No color… just a clean, thin outline. It is the first piece that cannot be hidden by my everyday clothing, and the first piece that is sincerely and uniquely "me".

I love it.

And I am officially out of the "funk".

But, I must say, that I am really happy that I waited until now to get something on my arm. It was so painless and fun that, had I gotten something like this done when I was a teenager, I would have most definitely had both full sleeves done by the time I turned 21.  Think of all of the Thanksgiving dinners I would have been banned from…