Do you remember the brilliant blog Regretsy? If you ever had the pleasure of dipping into this treasure trove of absurdity and wonderment then you know what I mean. If not here is a tiny tiny example of what you missed;
In a nut shell the satirical genius – April Winchell
It was probably the funniest damn thing I have ever read and I was genuinely bummed when April decided to end her glorious crafting commentary and continue on as a voice actor, actress and radio personality. (Fun side note; April’s dad, Paul Winchell was the voice of Tigger and Gargamel as well as a successful TV actor, ventriloquist and oh yeah invented the artificial heart – No. Shit.) For those of you who missed it I highly recommend the book (here on Amazon)
- you won’t be sorry – only sorry that this daily blog of brilliance is past.
Regretsy. Regrets. Tattoos? Oh yes, I write (mostly) about tattoos here so this all brings me around to the notion of tattoos and regret. As a tattooed person this is probably the number one question I get asked, “Will you, won’t you regret your tattoos?”
The justifications are many for this supposed regret; they will look awful when you are really old no one will hire you for a job it’s not sexy, feminine, socially acceptable blah blah blah All valid points ONLY if you give them weight- and I do not. However we all have regrets, even us tattooed folk, and in the interest of full disclosure I now share a true tattoo story about regret, luck and fate in regards to tattoos.
When I was 20 I worked as a camp counselor at a fancy schmancy sleep-away camp in Maine. How fancy? On “Carnival Day” they had an airplane fly over the soccer field and drop candy onto the waiting children. A. Fucking. Airplane. Nuff said.
Anywho – I made a couple of good friends there and mid-summer during one of our 36 hour “leaves” we decided to drive to Portland Maine and get tattooed for the first time. It was me, my camp friends Sara and Mike and my then boyfriend Tom. Sara and I wanted the tattoos and the guys were along for the ride to keep us company and get us drunk. We bought 2 bottles of Mad Dog
(which should actually be illegal but is not) and proceeded to get shit faced during the 2 hour drive to Portland. Sara and I had decided on our first tattoos. Sara- an educated, willowy girl from a nice hippie family was going for a classic – a tiny daisy on her ankle
with “Que Sera Sera” written on the ring and I wanted it…on my ass. The even lamer part of this idea (if that is possible) is that I ripped it
off of Winona Ryder
who had mentioned something like it in an article I had read. Well, as often happens when your Mad Dog buzz wears off and the hangover of shame and sorrow that only Mad Dog can install upon you kicks in- when we finally made it to the tattoo shop we backed down and didn’t do it.
Actually it was Sara who caved first and then I didn’t have the courage to push through on my own. I don’t know if I ever told her but Thank you, Sara – from the bottom of my heart (and ass), Thank You because that is a tattoo I probably would have regretted – deeply.
Contrary to what I have said and many other tattoo wearers will tell you – you can absolutely regret a tattoo. Maybe not the “having” of one but definitely the subject matter. Here are some to ponder…
Now of course there IS laser removal and many inky sins can be erased by it.
But there are some regrets even laser can’t fix – because these people have No Regrets
Ok maybe this guy has a few regrets?
But ironically I bet his tattoo is not one of them. Do you have a tattoo regretsy story that you want to share?