The following was written about a month ago: {There is a tattoo on my foot and…I’m not entirely sure I’m ok with it. I’m not even marginally sure I’m ok with it. Immediately after getting it, I looked up laser tattoo removal in Baton Rouge with the thought, “I don’t care if it hurts. I don’t care if it feels like my whole damn foot is being burned off, I want this thing gone.”

What, you may wonder, could she have tattooed on her foot that is so offensive that she would want it erased so quickly? Tribal art? An ex’s name? A misspelled word? A butterfly?

It’s a bow. A little blue bow less than the size of a silver dollar on the inside of my foot just below my ankle bone…
And it has depressed me into sitting at home on the couch, drinking coffee and researching the cost of lasering this sucker off. The fact that I may have to wait a total of 4 weeks for it to heal prior to beginning its riddance makes me anxious and impatient and I have to ask myself, “What the hell were you thinking?”}

4 weeks later, I have to say, I’m liking the bow considerably more. And, while it doesn’t offer any profound statement about what I believe, it speaks volumes about who I really am. I’m impulsive and picky…and at the age of 25 am still learning how to say “No, this is MY life and MY body…so let’s do this MY way.”