6/4/2026: "tattoo dream"

i had a dream last night that i was in a tattoo shop and the artist was showing me her flash sheet. i was supposed to be getting a tiny star in between my ribs. i felt super nervous because this isn't a tattoo idea i've had before, and it felt very sudden. the only tattoo i have, i had wanted for around 6 years before i finally got it. in fact, it's actually a funny story;

we were getting ready to put my childhood home up for sale. it's the only house i had ever lived in with my family (i guess it still is, now we all have our own places) and i was really devastated at the thought of not being able to go home anymore (see my manifesto for more details on my nostalgia problem lol). there are three pine trees in the backyard of that house, each planted for one of my siblings before i was born. i thought it would be cool to get a pine tree tattoo as the fourth one, for me, for my family, for the house. the night i had the idea, i drew it on the bottom of my wrist, where my arm touches the table while drawing or writing. it just felt right. that very night i was looking through my snapchat memories, and on that very day, six years prior, i had drawn the exact same symbol in the exact same place. i took that as a sign, and i got the tattoo shortly thereafter. i love it.

but back to the dream: it all felt very sudden and i didn't like any of the star options on the flash sheet. there was only one in black ink, the only kind of tattoo i'm really interested in getting, and the rest were colorful or big cartoony characters. i was sweating. why had i made this appointment for myself? was i really going to decide on and get a tattoo in this moment, that would stay on me forever? the tattoo artist was getting her tools ready. i felt bad to reject her at this point. i wondered if maybe i should just go through with it to avoid the social awkwardness and any potential hurt feelings.

at the same time, there was some sort of awareness of a sci fi story, maybe it was playing on a tv in the tattoo shop or maybe it was just the world this tattoo shop existed in (or maybe neither or both, it was a dream, after all). but instead of air or atmosphere the world above-ground was made up of hamburgers. instead of finding space and stars when you got up high enough, like in a rocket, you would reach the top bun layer, and that maybe went on forever. i think this was inspired by talking to my boyfriend about the book he's reading, "hothouse" by brian aldiss. it's about a world where vegetables are the dominant life form on earth and humans are tiny. there was sort of a sinister energy to the burgers. there was some subplot about a little singer boy who wanted to be a star, riding around on the back of a burger like a fireman on the back of the truck, singing his little opera song.

in the end i did speak up and excuse myself from the tattoo parlor, saying maybe i'd come back with a more concrete idea of what i want. i went home and, out of curiosity, drew what kind of star i would want tattooed between my ribs, if i were to have a star tattooed between my ribs. it was really small and actually pretty cool, and i realized it really wouldn't have been such a big deal to have gotten it done.

i really can't pretend to know what it means, but if i had to guess, i think it's about being an adult and making big choices. i've felt for a while now like i'm at sort of a cross-roads; i don't love my job, i miss college, i don't know if grad school is the answer or an attempt to relive the past. i guess being a professor would be cool, but does that mean i have to wait til im 40 to be a legit, independent, working person? is that even what i want to be? should i move cities? do i need a haircut?

things feel so pressing and big and serious. it's like when you're a senior in high school and they have you decide where to go to college and what you want to do for the rest of your life. it feels insane. but in the end, i kind of liked the tattoo and realized it kind of wouldn't have been a big deal either way. whatever choice you make just becomes your reality, and you always look back and know what came of it, so it always has meaning and feels narratively sound. so maybe i can just take a load off. at the same time i think there was a lesson in boundaries with the tattoo lady. i hate saying no to plans, but then i overextend myself and just wish i had a moment to myself for my own projects. maybe i need to do a better job of politely turning down plans. not sure how the burgers or the little singer boy play into this.

edit: i just got crazy deja vu reading this back. whatever that means.