I got a new tattoo...

 In May my dear friend, Michelle, came up to visit for the weekend and we got tattoos. She got a laurel wreath around the Greek numerals for 13.1 miles to commemorate her first half marathon. Yes, she does half marathons, and Warrior Dash, and triathlons, and she's a smoker.

Yes, she makes me feel like a lazy ass, but she is incredible and inspiring, and I could probably do those things too, if I got up and out and did them, but I don't... Anyway. She got a beautiful, simple, elegant, and totally significant sign of achievement and I got...a spastic, pink haired, green polk-a-doted, electrocuted looking unicorn, with a gold tooth.

Yes. I. Did. And I love it. Every time I look at it, I smile.

It is silly, and weird, and wonderful, and nothing less than exactly what I wanted.

It took no time at all, hurt less than I expected for the underarm, and makes my day better each time I see it.

I could not have asked for more.