On my eighteenth birthday in honor to my entry into adulthood, I decided to get a tattoo. My friend Elaine, who was already eighteen, agreed to come with me and we duly made an appointment at the local tattoo parlor. She knew what tattoo she wanted, but I had no idea. Although I didn’t think that a tattoo of Tigger was the way to enter into a life of adulthood, Elaine wanted it and had made up her mind. I was pretty sure that if I was going to have a tattoo that was to be with me for the rest of my natural life, it had to be something meaningful. Something that said “me”! We arrived early to look through the stacks of tattoo books at the parlor, with me hoping that I would find what I was looking for.