I was tattooed for the second time today.

I didn’t wake up expecting to have it done. I walked down to Zarha’s a little before noon just to get an estimate on the design, but since it was so small and basically a trace job I was able to get it done then and there.

This one requires some explaining for those who aren’t in the know. I worked in the writing center during my senior year at St. John’s. Shortly after I started, I regretted not having applied there three years earlier. It was an amazing place to work with great people, and I really felt like I was able to help students where others had failed. It also sort of became the center of my social universe that year. There was a fantastic mural all along the wall of our lounge space that the director and his young son had painted some years earlier. It filled the space with more warmth and personality than I’ve seen in most other academic facilities.

The year after I graduated, a new space for the writing center was opened in the library. This has been wonderful for both the staff and the students as it has enabled MANY more sessions to go on at once. More tutors and more clients, with a great new facility. Sadly, however, it meant the end of the mural. Our old space was taken over by a math lab or something. I’m pretty sure that the mural was painted over, but at the very least it is no longer a part of everyday life in the writing center.

So I decided to get an element from that mural tattooed on the back of my right shoulder. He’s* a little character known as “Monstro,” and now he’ll be with me forever. He’s a testament to the wonderful friends and experiences I had there. It sort of represents my gratitude for my entire experience at St. John’s, as I couldn’t really think of any other way to symbolize the other bits (sorry, no St. John’s crest).

That’s my modus operandi with my tattoos at the moment. Movies and cartoons sometimes contain images of huge, sturdy suitcases covered with decals bearing the names of exotic locales to which, presumably, the owner has traveled. I don’t know if anyone does that anymore, but I’ve always loved these images and used to dream about how fun it would be to amass that kind of a portable travelogue. They tell stories about their owners……they’re documentations that everyone can see. I’ve decided to put mine on my body instead of my drab Samsonite.

* I’m not sure if Monstro’s sex was ever established, or indeed if he even has one.  Is this my latent chauvinism breaking through?