Our poor baby sister Jayne.
Our poor, tall, blonde, beautiful, swedish-exchange-student, milkman’s-daughter, adopted baby sister Jayne has always been looked ay twice as she is almost the exact opposite of Charlotte & I.
Fate & genetics aligned and she received the dormant blonde & blue-eyed genes carried by mes parents (they both have blonde siblings. There is no milkman in this equation. But it is fine to drive Inga/Jayne crazy).
So. Last christmas I bought pretty silver bracelets for all three of us. Then Charlotte upped the ante* OF COURSE and suggested we get matching Cupcake Tattoos** for Jayne’s 18th birthday.
Then! Craig adn I went and fell in love with London, and Charlotte decided to come and see what all the fuss is about and the timing of all that means that, more than likely (fingerscrossed fingerscrossed), we will both be overseas when Jayne turns 18 in 2009.
Somehow, witchcraft perhaps, or by virtue of being the youngest & most golden child, & a very convenient case of glandular fever, she managed to convince the parents (heads shaking, tongues tutting all the while) that we should be able to get them for her 17th birthday instead. And in fact because I’m off to Hawaii, it would ha ve to be before her birthday so technically she was SIXTEEN.
Incredible. I wasn’t even sure that they’d let me and I’m 24.
So. Last Thursday rolls around & I am so nervous I can barely speak. Twice tattooed Charlotte laughs at me.
But I suck it up and we get ready to go. I took before photos. Hoping I would be brave enough to there be an after photo.
Juuuuuust as we gathered our bags mother-darling pulled into the driveway. I KNEW IT. Trying to stop us. But no, Just home early, please please don’t but off you go was all she said.
Craig drove us around to Tattoo Freaky & we tried to explain what exactly it was that we were after. I could hear my stupid baby voice get even higher. We were booked at the same time but my little drawing was completed first and on watery legs I sat down with Dave, my tattooist. Any semblance of cool I had was G.O.N.E.
He asked if I was ready & I snatched my arm away & made inane small talk. I AM SO COOL.
As he dipped his (needle? pen? wand!?!) into the ink he asked me what the significance of the cupcakes was*** and all I could manage as a reply was Uuh. I’m sorry. I can’t really think about that right now. All I could think about was Imminent Pain. I clutched Craig’s hand & buried my face in arm, breathing as slowly as I could. Then he started. And it burned. A little. But nowhere near what I was expecting (woo). Adrenaline kicked in & while it still hurt, and I couldn’t really watch it, and I definitely needed Craig’s hand, I could talk to Jayne as she started her hip tattoo. Charlotte held her hand until I was done then we switched and she went to get her head tattooed. HER HEAD.
We rewarded ourselves with Peachee and Bepanthan. And in general feeling pretty Bad Atth. We looked like we’d been in dog fights (well, not Jayne. She just winced as she sat down. She looked 70 as opposed to dog-fight-y).
And a couple of days later …
It’s been a few days now & I still grin when I catch a glimpse of it.
It’s like when you get an amazing, dramatic, new haircut. Only it’s FOREVER.
*which is great. I keep forgetting to wear the damn (pretty!) thing and opting instead for my tiger head bracelet.
** CAN’T forget to wear that one!
*** Because we are adorable (cupcakes) and bad ass (tattoos). And pretty damn random (having cupcake tattoos). And totally awesome (having cupcake tattoos).