I have an appointment on Friday with a laser surgeon. I'm going to talk to him about tattoo removal.

Certainly, no one asked me to do this. I just feel like it's time. Even though this is my own decision, it makes me feel kind of sad. It's one more thing in my life that I thought was going to be forever that turned out to be temporary.

That was really the appeal of a tattoo in the first place for me. I wanted something that could capture that moment in time and allow me to carry it for the rest of my life. It's a little piece of hell-raising-nineteen-year-old inked into my back. That one will be the first to go. Even though it's on my shoulder, it's the most visible of all of them. It's my first one and my favorite.� This fall, it will be 10 years old.

My friend Cassidy and I decided to get tattoos together. Mine is a design that I saw in Tunisia. Hers is the size of a round band-aid that she "designed" herself. It's a sun with a crescent moon. We were excited and a little scared when we drove to the spot in a cracky area of Lansing. The staff was just as we expected them to be, long scraggly haired men with full tattoo sleeves. I was so proud of mine that I wore a bodysuit (remember those? {cringe}) to the dance club that night so people could see my bloody and inky skin.

The one on my leg is big, colored, and ugly. I'm not likely to wear a micro-mini skirt anytime soon, so I can wait a bit on losing it. It was the follow up tattoo to the one on my shoulder. By then, I walked into that tattoo parlor with an air of confidence. I was hip, tough even. I knew what to expect. I just wished I was a little more mature in picking out the subject matter.

The one on my lower back has a very different story.� Some friends of mine had a tattoo party at a nearby house.� I was the first to go (wanted to get the guy before he got drunk).� I thought that we might set up a little room to get some privacy, but they had me in the middle of the living room.� Someone gave me a pair of sweats to wear, and I ended up straddling a barstool.� I know that my lower back isn't an especially risqu� place, but it was kind of creepy to have 20 guys stare at me while I was being tattooed.� That was my last tattoo.�� I was 22 and just winding down my wild years.�

Removal is supposed to hurt much more than being tattooed.� Someone described the feeling as similar to having boiling grease thrown on your skin.� I hope that it will be a spiritually cleansing experience.� I don't regret most of my youth, but I'm glad it's over.� I can't wait to begin the next phase.