Friday, April 21, 2006

I love tattoos.
I love the entire subculture associated with tattoos.
I received my first janky piece (a red rose with a banner that read "The River") when I was twenty one at a shop in Vegas by a gal named Dante. It was done in part because my then friend/soon to be wife had received one on her ankle and I relayed to her during the first phone conversation afterward that I had always wanted one.
Fast forward to a trip where I planned to meet up with her but had yet to get inked. I know I needed to or continue to face the fun-loving harassment she was giving me, so a few weeks before I left I received my first set of colors. That was all it took. And of course extra pocket money.
Fast forward nine years to a time when I decided to pierce my nostril. That was interesting. She wasn't happy with that decision, but I felt it was MY decision to be made. Not OURS. Long and short, I tried to take it out and install a nose ring but it wound up getting infected, so out came the nostril piercing. She was happy.
Fast forward five more years to a time when I - purely out of curiosity - stopped by a new tattoo shop in my neighborhood. While there I met up with a guy named Don. Cool as fuck. Down to earth. Reasonably priced. So we start to talk shop: what is it I'm looking to get; how do I want it placed... all of the regular questions. Although I'd always wanted one, I NEVER ONCE intended to set myself up with an appointment for my first full sleeve. It just happened. Two months later, the outline is finished and color is being pushed. I'm really hyped about the work and begin making plans for my left arm... AND a back piece. Fucking crazy!
Next thing I know, my wife is showing outward signs of her distaste for my decisions, but I respect her thoughts, consider them, file them in the back of my mind and press on with my plans. A few months pass, and as more color is being added, she admits to taking a liking to my body art. Cool! Fucking awesome! She also admits that she finds the whole thing "sexy," kind of a turn on. Whatever. Cool, but nonetheless, whatever.
Moving on.
Keep in mind, I have, throughout our marriage had my ears pierced a total of five times. Twice they were infected and had to close, but within the past year, I've added two more for a total of four in my earlobes (a look she admits to liking). This past February, after months of debate, I'd decided to once again get my nostril pierced. Why? Because I wanted to (again.) My wife gets pissed. Not about the earlobes, mind you. Just my nostril. Over the course of the next two months several heated conversations ensue with the last one ending with her saying "You routinely go against my wishes and do things I don't want you to do!"
Add that statement to the ever growing pile of piss-me-off's and I'm off and running.
I have ALWAYS considered the importance of her thoughts on any subject, to include my body adornment fetish. I've listened to her, and in many cases have agreed with her, ie: neck tattoos, job stoppers (knuckles), face, hands, etc... although I did add two quarter-size stars - one on each hand.
My question is: since when did our marriage become a dictatorship? Where in our license does it say I forfeit all of my personal rights and forgo my personal tastes? I don't muscle her around and expect her to do as I WISH! I WOULD NEVER! Despite any personal feelings I may have on certain subjects. So why is it that I am now "going against [her] wishes" when she 's known all along that these are things I like and wish to do?
I can't help thinking I embarrass her.
For fuck sake, I'll probably grow out of the nose ring in another couple of years, so let me fucking enjoy it until that time comes. The same can be said for the earrings. Then again, maybe I won't. The point is, let me fucking live a little, PLEASE! Let me be me, not an extension of you. If you're secretly embarrassed by me... that's something you'll have to work on because I have given you ample opportunity to voice your concerns and every time it's the same old lip service.
Why now are you pulling power trips on me? Why are you trying to direct my life for me? Why is it I feel like we're drifting apart?

2 Comments:

Blogger barista brat said...

hey [sic]-
has your wife given you specific reasons for not liking the nose ring? maybe she's using it as an outlet? like she's upset about things she can't control, so she's trying to curb your behavior?
i don't know, just a thought....

1:05 PM  
Blogger [sic] said...

No Brat. Aside from simply stating that she doesn't like them, there's no other reason to be had.

As far as the tat's go, last night she stated that she likes the idea that they can be put away. Understandable considering the direction of her current career choice.

3:46 PM  

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