Two nights ago was my and Mike's date night. While it started off on a bit of a sour note, we managed to pull through, hit the reset button, and make the best of it. It started off with dinner at a Mexican restaurant. I basically just picked at my single enchilada and barely ate 4 bites. I've been on my antidepressants which have helped make my appetite almost non-existent. They make me a little nauseous and sometimes I get a nice little anxiety attack here and there throughout the day, which, too, make me nauseous. No worries, got my doctor on top of things so it should get better. Anyway, I'm getting a little off subject. A little. The plan for after dinner was to go see Tropic Thunder; something funny to lift our spirits. We walked to the truck and started having second thoughts. Neither of us was in the best of moods, and sitting in a movie that we would enjoy more if we were in a better state of mind, didn't sound as much fun anymore. So now what? Bowling? No. Tattoos? Yes. What? Cool!
So, we drove to the tattoo parlor next to our friend's business. We went in and asked all the questions to ask to get Mike's Tattoo done. He wanted Farrah's initials on his traps and neck. No problem. I, however, was told that the tattoo I wanted, I was not going to be able to get. I want my daughter's full name in cursive, wrapped around my left arm in a type of vine style. Nope. My arms have shrunk and I want to get them back to their normal size. Therefore, I was unable to get it done because when my arms come back my tattoo will look all stretched out and weird. Sooooo, no tat for me.
But, like hell if I was walking out of there empty handed. That's like spending time at the mall and not coming home with a new outfit. I've always wanted my nose pierced, so I figured what better time than now. It took so much time for me to finally do it because the thought of purposefully choosing to have myself stabbed in the face made me a bit faint. Mike was all prepped for his tattoo and finally joined me in the piercing room. I made him stick around and hold my hand because I didn't want to be alone. He held on while the woman stuck a metal bar up my right nostril and BAM! It was done. I was so worked up about the pain, that I almost lost it, but I didn't feel any pain, just pressure. Mike headed back to his tattoo chair while I was cleaned up. When it was all over, I looked in the mirror and was a little disappointed, but only because of the massive dried up blood under the post. I have one month until I can put a cute little diamond in. Can't wait! In the meantime, I do love it. It's fun and it's me.
Mike's tattoo turned out great and he decided to get one more on the inside of his forearm. He was looking at a couple odd pictures to put on that I wasn't sure suited him, so I suggested a dumbbell. The tattoo artist put it together and it turned out awesome. He received many compliments on it. Farrah, however, said, "Owie" when she saw his arm. Owie, was right!
Now, my nose itches because it's healing. I forget I have this new thing up my nose so when I go to scratch it... OUCH!!! I've had to twist it a couple times, too, because it gets turned around inside. I am getting used to it, though. A little scared to show my parents and Grandma. I'll tell them it's fake.