Back in the day, I used to be able to work really long days and still be able to keep going once I got home. When I worked at the Board of Elections, I’d regularly work 14+ hours days. Sure, I’d be completely fried by the time the election was over, but I could do it. Those days are behind me now. I worked a little over ten hours today and I’m wiped. Still, I promised a blog post and, by gum, you’re going to get one! It will be in two sections that will only be slightly related. Okay. Not really.
My schedule at work has been weird lately. I nearly ended up with the day off on Friday and decided to finally make an appointment to get that “Bitch Planet”-inspired tattoo. On Friday, I sat down in a chair at Time Bomb Tattoo in Frederick, MD while one of the talented artists stabbed me repeatedly with tiny needles. It’s not my first tattoo, but it’s the first I’ve had that has gotten colored in. Before I continue, I’m just going to say that this whole section is about my tattoo shenanigans. Feel free to skip ahead if it’s not your thing or you’re concerned about possibly being squicked out.
One of my default responses to uncomfortable situations is to start babbling. Fortunately, this sitting only took about half an hour so there was less babbling than there was during my first tattoo. I remember remarking as the artist, Brad, began phase 2 of my tattoo that it looked like he was coloring it in with markers.
Since you’re probably going to ask, I’m just going to let you know that it did hurt. Not as much as some parts of my first tattoo did, but it was certainly an occasionally uncomfortable experience. My mother’s not terribly keen on this whole “body mutilation” thing (her words, not mine). She was okay with the first piece since my clothes mostly cover it. This one? It’s definitely visible.
I’ve discovered that the healing process for this tattoo is far different from the first one. I remember there being a sore stage of healing and then I remember the itchy stage. There was a middle ground, but I’ve forgotten it. With this? It was sore and the space around it was puffy for the first couple of days. While I was sure that this was a natural part of healing, my mother was concerned about infection. That started the hypochondria engines rolling in my head.
There’s no infection and now we’re at the “old leather handbag” stage of healing with the expected scabbing and the not-as-expected bruising (yes, I am moisturizing). I have to say that the bruising is kind of pretty. It goes well with the blue ink I chose. I’m looking forward to seeing what it looks like when it’s all done healing! I’m sure it’s going to be great.
Oh! Extra bonus thing about joining the ranks of the non-compliant? Kelly Sue DeConnick and Valentine De Landro, the minds behind “Bitch Planet,” have both seen my tattoo on the internet. That’s pretty freakin’ awesome.
As preparation for the The Avengers: Age of Ultron, I’ve been having a marathon of all of the Marvel Cinematic Universe movies. This morning, I was watching the first Avengers film and remarked to Micah and our friends that the bridge crew on the helicarrier was, in my words, “hella white.” Of course, Micah had an explanation for this: “That’s because they’re Hydra, remember?”
He later went on to continue, “Hydra ain’t so big on diversity. They’re Nazis.”
I didn’t really want to accept that answer and responded with: “Yeah, I know. But that’s one of those hindsight explanations that’s used to justify stuff people fucked up on.”
The ultimate outcome of this conversation was that I was right. Okay, that’s an oversimplification, but it’s one that Micah would agree on if the shoe was on the other foot. It’s just like people having what they refer to as “headcanons.” For those unfamiliar with that terminology, it’s when fans come up with further narratives within the narrative they’ve been presented. Look, I live on Tumblr. Fandom there thrives on sharing and getting excited over “headcanons.”
We come up with these ideas that are intended to fill in the gaps left behind in our fiction. As with fanfiction, it’s a way of interpreting the material we love in a way that makes it more relevant and personal to us. While I appreciate and certainly contribute to that part of fandom myself, I wonder what it says about us that we almost feel as though we have to do that in order to feel represented by our pieces of fiction.