Wrong Tattoos, Minidresses, and How I Need to Use the Internet

In 1999 the Internet was a strange thing I didn’t understand.

Computers had only recently started to be required to type and submit assignments in high school when I graduated that year.  Though chat rooms existed, I hadn’t discovered them.  My little brother, 2.5 years younger than me, had a computer in his room and used it to ‘chat’ with his friends.  I had no idea how he was doing that.  My cellphone was still about the size of a brick.  When I started college that fall, I went in the week before like everyone else to pick up my schedule.  No online login required!

This was the same year DH went to Basic Training.  I lived in a city with no regular force base.  My family was not military.  What I knew about it could be summed up in the reminiscing of my mother in law as she looked back on the years before my father in law retired.

Also: MASH.  Everything I knew about the army could be summed up by MASH.
Unfortunately, Dh is not American, it’s not the 1950’s and life isn’t like TV.

I couldn’t ‘Google‘ to learn more.  Google was a Beta version of something before I knew was a Beta version was.
I actually took a couple books from the library but they were all from the 1970s.

So when I walked into the tattoo shop the week after Dh enlisted, all I had was a picture I had traced from a movie cover.  I was going to get it tattooed on my….ahem…. backside.  It was to be a gesture in love.  I wanted Dh’s last name inside.

The picture looked something like this

Now, if you’re Canadian and know anything about the military, you already see the problem.
Don’t spoil it for the rest of the class just yet.

The tattoo artist was mostly just relieved that his appointment, the one that said only ‘dog tags: ass’ was not on a 250lb hairy guy, but still told me he just didn’t want to tattoo the name of a boyfriend onto an 18 year old girl.
There was wisdom there.

I said fine, I would add the name once we were married.  And 45 minutes later, I walked out no worse for wear with a patch on my backside.

(For the record, 14 years later I never have added a name.  I thankfully can’t actually see the tattoo that looks like a keychain on my butt).

Let’s jump forward to that spring.

It’s 2000 and Dh’s Regiment is having a special party for their 100 year birthday.  Dh tells me to find a dress for a semi-formal occasion.  I have never been to a semi formal occasion.  I want to impress his collegues I have never met before.  I am 19.

I buy something that looks like this:

Except smaller. And white.  

I wish I could tell you I am joking right now, but I’d be lying.

The beauty of it having been 13 years ago is there are no incriminating Instagram photos to show you.

What is the point of these horrible confessions?

My friends, had the Internet existed in my world 13 years ago, I would have known two things.

One, Canadian Dog Tags look like this:  

http://www.savemoresportstore.ca/accessories/dog-tags.html

Really, that should be common sense, but the Internet would have helped me, who apparently lacked that.

______________

I try, I try so hard, but I fail.

You’re struggles might seem bigger than theirs.  Not every situation requires you tell them that.  Ask yourself how sharing all your own past is going to help them in theirs right now.

Comments

comments

Related posts:

This Is The Internet! Lessons in Jiu Jitsu and Internet Trolls Just call a plumber. The Draino is not worth it. 2011 – Posts I Wrote