Is this too cliche to write about? I honestly cannot tell. Life seems like a giant cliche these days anyways, so why not?

I turned 18 on Saturday, January 24th. The day itself was wonderful, and the fact that my 18th fell on a Saturday seemed like fate to me, so I took advantage of my new found age and went out and got a tattoo, two tattoos actually.

This was always my intention, to get a tattoo as soon as possible after my eighteenth. It was always the plan that I would be getting the tattoo my mother has on her foot (it’s the Aquarius symbol and we are both Aquarians). So my mom scheduled the appointment on my birthday for 1 p.m.

Getting the first tattoo literally took one hour, then in the spur of the moment I asked my artist, her name is Stephanie, if she could freehand a little lightning bolt on my left pinkie and she totally did! And I am so very pleased with both of the tattoos, she did an amazing job and the pain was very minimal.

Stephanie made me feel extremely comfortable and assured me to let her know if I felt dizzy or funny at all. She did a great job at showing me she cared about my well being, and very aware and cautious of it being my first tattoo. She made my mom get me water and and gave my a rag to squeeze if it hurt me.

A good comparison to getting a tattoo is basically painting on a sunburn. Or pulling the hairs on your arm, it feels a lot like that. Also, the black outline hurt a lot more than the bright blue color filling.

So with my new freedom, I definitely will be getting more tattoos very soon. I was already talking to Stephanie about doing the other pieces I want and she was 100% down for it (I mean obviously for the money, but she was still so nice). She specializes mainly in American traditional styled tattoos, bold black lines and bright colors, and does not do any realism, “I will not tattoo a portrait of your grandmother,” she jokingly said to me.