peak of rebellion

Once upon a time, a few months ago….

No, wait. That doesn’t feel right. Let’s try again.

I’ve always been a bit of a rebel. Sort of. I guess you could call me a…wimpy rebel? A rebel who is also afraid of getting in trouble? Is there a word for that? A…um…you get the point.

For years I was, and admittedly continue to be, dictated by the fear of getting in trouble by authority figures, something that I unfortunately lacked when among my own people. Growing up, I was in a constant state of flux between rebellion and “perfect citizen.” At home, I was a devil child. At school, never a better student did you see.
My at-home rebellion was never anything huge: hiding the vitamins I didn’t want to take under seat cushions, avoiding doing chores of any sort, riding my bicycle around the block without my mother’s permission, etc… Normal spoiled-and-stubborn-youngest-child stuff. I’m sure that my family would say that I am much worse than I am letting on, in which case I would probably have to agree. I blush to think of some of the things I said and did when I was younger. I’m blushing now just thinking about thinking about it. But, still. In the world of rebellion, it would be considered very minor league stuff.

Which is why getting a tattoo is my peak of rebellion.

My family members, once they discovered my rebellious actions, reacted with surprise and exasperation. The surprise came from their knowledge of my needle phobia. The exasperation came from…well, it seems like I’m always doing something to exasperate them.

Aside: It frustrates me that people can’t seem to grasp the difference between syringes and tattoo needles. Yes, it’s true that I despise the terrifyingly long needles that are used for inserting or removing liquids directly into and from my bloodstream. However, tattoo needles, and needles used for piercing ears and such, don’t commit such heinous crimes. Therefore, I have no reason to fear them. Tattoo needles may indeed insert liquid into the skin, causing a butt load of pain in the process, but they’re not nearly as intrusive as syringes. It’s not that complex an idea! Or, maybe it is, and this is just my contradictory personality at work again.

Sorry. I’m getting off track.

Anyway, unlike most television portrayals of such ventures, my tattoo was not the result of a night of wild, drunken, spontaneous rebellion. Well, the timing was a bit spontaneous. There wasn’t any wild drunkenness, though. Sorry to disappoint. The truth is that I had wanted a tattoo for a few years, and I was tired of waiting. Plus, my friend Shawna was wanting one too.

So, one Saturday we hopped in the car and headed to the City.  

As soon as we arrived at the tattoo parlor, I felt immediately out of place. The blackout windows, rock music, big bulky guys covered in piercings and tattoos, and slightly inappropriate pictures on the walls did not blend with my middle-class, small-town self. It probably didn’t help that I was wearing a tank top covered in cute little cartoon moons and earrings in the shape of owls.

This alienness greatly increased when I revealed to the tattoo artists what I was there for: a pattern of simple little birds on my ankle. Their dismayed and exasperated expressions immediately informed me what a cliche and teenage-white-girl request I had made. Which, honestly seemed kind of rude and uppity. I mean, I’m sorry, good sir, that I don’t also want the image of a creepy leprechaun permanently etched onto my shoulder. Besides, I wanted birds before they were cool.

Despite their disapproval of our tattoo choices, and obvious doubt that I would go through with it, they agreed to oblige us. Appointments were made, time blurred, papers were signed, money was passed, and before I knew it I was sitting in a slightly creepy dentist-like chair in the back of the parlor getting my first tattoo.

Some of you may be wondering: Was it painful? Well…Have you ever had a tooth drilled when your mouth is only half numbed up? Cause it reminded me of that. For Shawna, it felt a bit different, “like an electric kitten scratch on some parts, and on other parts like he was holding a burning cigarette onto my skin.” Really, Shawna? How do you know what that feels like? Despite the negative, and slightly strange, mental images that I’ve just given you, it really wasn’t as bad as I was expecting it to be.

Still, it’s not an experience I’m likely to forget anytime soon. Especially since it’s now immortalized on the internet.

And, no, I don’t regret my decision.


flashback to the early 2000s

Not only is today “Flashback Friday,” it is also the last Friday of summer vacation. That’s right. Next week I will be re-entering the world of late nights, early(ish) mornings, papers, exams, coffee runs, and moments of near insanity. As I prepare for this coming semester, both physically and mentally, I can’t help but think of the good ‘ole days in elementary school. Back then, the most I had to worry about was learning my letters and making sure not to pee my pants in front of my class. Or, bursting into tears because I unexpectedly spotted my kindergarten crush in the school library. (Yes, that happened). Anyways, back to the point, and away from embarrassing stories about my childhood: Here is a list of some of the things I miss most from my pre-college days. Let the flashback begin!

  1. New School Supplies

Yes, yes, I know. This isn’t the most exciting thing in the world, but I loved buying new school supplies. It took a little bit of the sting out of having to go back to school. I couldn’t help but admire my new collection of crayons, markers, glue sticks, and #2 pencils. I also couldn’t help but look on with envy as my classmates pulled out brand new multi-colored push up pens, Five Star notebooks, Lisa Frank folders, Elmer’s School Glue GEL, and the amazing 64 pack of Crayola crayons out of their JanSport backpacks. My mom wasn’t a huge fan of buying the “cool” stuff. So many years wasted.

  1. Recess

This one is no surprise. Who doesn’t miss recess? 30 minutes of fresh air, “cops and robbers,” swings, and running away from the boys who liked to pull your ponytail.

  1. Scholastic Book Fairs

Book Fair week was the best week of school ever. I would begin counting down the days until the Book Fair weeks in advance. I remember walking into the library on the first day of the fair with butterflies in my stomach. I absolutely loved breathing in the smell of new books and browsing over all the latest detective gear for kids, before going home and begging my mom to give me some money to support my book addiction. Ah, the days of the Scholastic Book Fair. Those were some of the best days of my childhood. I still have (and read) some of the books I bought there.

  1. Field Trips

I can’t help but miss the exciting days when my class would take a day to go to the Oklahoma Wildlife Refuge Center, or tour the Braums Family Dairy Farm, or walk down to the Tom Stafford Air and Space Museum (located in my hometown). I could’ve done without the long rides on our dirty, smelly school busses, but I loved going on field trips. I felt so grown up, going away on a trip without my parents, and with a killer brown bag lunch (Gatorade and Pringles? Heck yes.)

  1. Super Kids Day

Oh, Super Kids Day. A wonderful day with no classes, tons (or more accurately, tens) of fun activities and contests held on the playground, and the best game of tug o’ war a kid could ask for. I don’t know if every elementary school has this, but I hope they do. This day was one of the best days of school, and a perfect way to end the school year.

  1. Pajama Day

On this day, not only did we get to wear our pajamas to school, we also got to spend the entire day sitting, or lying, on the ground with our pillows, blankies, and a good book, not to mention the wonderful snacks they would sell in the cafeteria. The nerd in me loved these days. I got to spend the whole day reading. In my pajamas. At school. That was the life.

And, that is the end of my walk down memory lane, at least for today. If this post made you smile, or brought forth some of your own memories from school, I’m glad. Now, it’s back to preparing for classes on Monday.

Pretty in Pink <3 this will basically be me on the first day back to college

(Undeniable truth from the classic 80s movie, Pretty in Pink)