Bright Ideas

Back in my younger years I worked during the summers as a life guard, and life was grand! I got to sit down for most of my working hours, I had a sweet tan, and every concession treat you could imagine was at my fingertips for half price. Sure, I had to blow my trusty whistle at naughty kids horsing around in the deep end every now and then, but the benefits far outweighed the cons of bratty kids and the occasional eyeball full of a woman with hairy armpits doing the back stroke...

That is, until the end of that last fateful summer. Those of you that know me know I have a rather fair complexion. Fair girls + lots of sun - any sunscreen = lots of freckles and a new crop of moles. One mole in between my shoulder blades decided it was particularly displeased with it's lack of UV protection and it tried to kill itself. (True story! That's how the doctor described it to me.) Basically, my body tried to do away with the problematic mole and it created a perfectly round white spot all the way around the stinking thing.

Now, those of you that know me also know that I have light bulbs with bright ideas go off all the time. DING! I'll just tattoo over it! Brilliant! First, I got the pink heart, but everyone thought it was a balloon so I added the cross. But it's just to the left of my spine so I felt lop-sided and added the bird to even out. So technically it's 3 tattoos... but really, who's keeping track of my light bulbs?

Fast forward 10 years. I hate the placement of the trash ball tattoo more than I hated the suicidal mole. Above, you'll see the tattoo after 5 removal treatments, and then directly after the 6th this past Saturday.

Moral of this story? Don't get lame tattoos.