"I am the wisest man alive, for I know one thing, and that is that I know nothing." ~Socrates

...I'm just afraid. I don't work very well with pain. I know, I'm a woman. Women are built for pain. For some reason, I am not. Maybe I'm missing a gland or nerve...or have an extra...
Something like a delicate vine from my hip to my toes...or from my neck to my fingers...
That's a lot of needles stabbing me millions of times, though, over multiple sessions.
Ouch.
I'm not sure how to deal with this dilema.
This is why my husband and I don't match physically. When I met him, he'd just got out of the Army and divorced his first wife (or so he had thought...but that's another story for another day) was covered in piercings, had a couple of tattoos and green hair.
Not my type, or so I had thought...interesting how you don't really know what your type is until it slaps you in the face like a jealous girlfriend.
Since we've been together, he's tamed the hair and lost most of the piercings (with exception of the nipple rings, which I kind of dig anyway), however he has been loading up on the tattoos. He has a 3/4 sleeve on one arm, a large tree of life covering his back, lizards circling an ankle, and a dragon covering one leg...he's thinking he wants something on his neck now.
He's a walking museum.
Anyway, I went with him to have his back done and it scared the hell out of me. I've not been brave enough to suffer the process. I tried to work myself up by getting an industrial piercing (a barbell through both sides of the cartilidge of your upper ear), but all that did is put me off some more.
I wish I new a dentist that would give me a vial of lydocaine...as it is, I will most likely never get what I want.
I'm such a sissy.
Life is so unfair.