I just spent my spring break week in Utah, and (the library trip aside) it was possibly the most painful vacation I have ever had.
First off, I couldn't be in Utah during the winter with out going skiing. So through a friend, my brother, his girlfriend (who grew up in Park City), and myself got free lift tickets to the Canyons (a resort). I don't really ski. I went maybe three times as a teenager when I would get to the top of the bunny slope barrel straight down as fast as I could and fall because I didn't know any other way to stop. And let me say that skiing in Utah is nothing like skiing in Michigan. Apparently in a desert even the snow is dry; they call it "powder." I've never been skiing in it before and I did horribly. Three runs on the novice run did not prepare me for the next level, because as soon as we hit the next one I was on my ass…a lot. I kept getting stuck in the powder, which you're actually supposed to ski through. Now, granted powder is pretty soft and if you land right it doesn't hurt when you fall. Too bad I can't land correctly. The upside to all this falling: I got really good at pulling myself up. In fact, I don't think I've ever had a better work out for my arms. I swear they were sore for two days after that.
Second, I made my brother take me to his tattoo artist. If you're ever in Salt Lake City and want a tattoo go to Big Deluxe Tattoo they are the best everyone I know in Utah went there (and I actually know a good number of people there). I have had a picture of this particular tattoo for almost 2 years I just wanted to be very careful about where I went to get it done. My brother has gorgeous tattoos on his arms so I felt comfortable going to his guy. I'm sure everyone knows someone with a tattoo who says "Oh it didn't hurt at all. It just felt a little uncomfortable." They were lying. To themselves, to you, to whom ever, but it's a boldface lie made to make them seem all tough and to convince you that it's no big deal, because it hurts. It hurts like hell. It felt like some one was stabbing, cutting, burning, and generally flaying the skin off my back, only worse because besides the cutting and stabbing there is also the blood—the lots and lots of blood running down my back and staining my shirt (and later my brother's car). Luckily it only took 45minutes. I didn't ask for a break in an effort to finish faster, but I also never felt that adrenaline rush that you supposedly get and which makes people jones for more than one tattoo. So don't bother asking me what I'll have done next, because the answer is nothing. From now on I stick to Henna, that stuff looks great and is pain free.
