Dreadful Nonsense

This warning is very important to everyone who is about to read this post. If you can't keep to the promise that you are obliged to make before the second paragraph of this post begins, you should really look away now. In fact, I insist that you do. Do not read any further than this sentence if you're not prepared to keep all of the following a GREAT BIG SECRET THAT MUST NEVER BE DISCUSSED AGAIN.

In fact, let's all make a solemn vow right now. Right hand in the air, everyone. Left hand on heart. Repeat the following aloud (unless you're in an internet cafe, in which case hands in position and whisper):

I do solemnly swear that I will never disclose what is about to be discussed on this website. I will not bring it up in conversation with Shazzle the next time I see her, unless we two are alone in a room with no one else listening. I will not casually mention it in passing and I will never once mention it to any of her family, living or dead. If I am a member of her family, I will specifically refrain from mentioning it to her mother. If I am her mother, I will stop reading here. (Also, if I'm her mother, I'll let her get away with not paying her share of the phone bill this month.)

Are we all sworn to secrecy? Excellent.

Now, here comes the great big secret that you're not to mention to me in real life, no matter what situation we find ourselves in. If you meet me on the street, pass me by as I'm hi-jacking a car, are in the cockpit while I'm flying a bi-plane, happen to pass while I'm smuggling orphaned children across a war-torn country's border or are the spy to whom I am selling the secret blue prints, I don't want to hear a word of it mentioned. This, above all other things, should root out once and for all who reads my blog and who doesn't.

Ladies, Gentlemen, Mother: I'm getting a tattoo.

I've been considering a tattoo for ages - years, in fact - and have just stumbled across the realisation that the perfect thing for me to get tattooed upon me has been staring me in the face for the last four years or so. It came to me in a sudden flash of inspiration and since I thought of it I've not been able to think for very long about anything else. I had a discussion with Mrs D about it, and she seems to think it's a great idea. She had some sterling advice about where not to place tattoos upon the body of a lady, for ladies apparently age and stretch and sag in later life, and she pointed out that when you're forty you're going to have to go to important dinner dates with clients of your husband's, and you're going to inadvisably wear strappy dresses, and nobody likes weird creepy ladies in their forties with stupid butterfly tattoos on their shoulders.

Ideally, I'd like to get my tattoo imprinted right across the point in my back where all the disc problems are, since I spent a lot of my time clutching that very point and trying to alleviate the pain by seemingly pushing the disc back in to place - since I'm apparently going to spend a large part of the rest of my life doing that, it'd be nice to have a pretty picture to be pressing against. However, I'm not entirely sure that would be a medically sound move on my part, so I'm going to check with my GP and my consultant before doing that.

I've also decided that I'm going to get it done in the first week I'm in Edinburgh, because then it'll have three weeks to heal over before I come home to continue swimming regularly. I'm really excited at the thought of it. I found an image on the net and have printed it out and have been carrying it around in my wallet for the last two weeks. I get a little giddy every time I look at it. It's going to be great.

So. Dear readers. Please leave your comments as to whether or not you think this is a good idea. Also, please let me know if you've got tattoos, and if you've ever regretted getting it done. And where they are on your body, and what they're of. Thanks much.

This entry was posted on 10 June 2004 at 4:57 pm. 0 comments

Dreadful Nonsense

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