I guess I can't fill out a certain kind of survey anymore! (TMI alert)

You know the kind of survey I mean - the one that gets e-mailed around your circles of friends and asks questions like: who was your first prom date, do you prefer vanilla or chocolate, what is your favorite color and DO YOU HAVE ANY TATTOOS??  Now that I have to answer 'yes' to that last question, no more surveys for me...

Yes, the saga of my new breasts is (hopefully) complete.  I made a visit to Dr Vera Wang's tasteful office on the East Side yesterday and had my nipples tattooed.  For some reason, I had sort of forgotten about this appointment.  For one thing, I made it in January.  And for another, I guess it's part of my denial/avoidance thing.  I'm just tired of thinking about it.  And I'm not looking forward to another period of breast high-maintenance...

I got to the offices early and was ushered in quickly.  As I was changing into the lovely peach-colored robe, I took a couple of photos - one of yet another syringe, and one of a color wheel and Spirograph-looking wheel guide.  Interesting!  Dr Vera Wang came in and made small talk.  Then she showed me, on the Spirograph thing, which sizes she thought would be appropriate for me (I ended up choosing a circumference a bit smaller than the 'normal' size), then we decided which shades would be good for my skin tone.  I thought it was funny she thought a combination of beige 2, beige 3 and rose would go well with my "red" hair.  I didn't remind her that my red hair is fake.  Just like my breasts, I guess.  :)

The process was pretty painless.  She did numb me, since I'm starting to have some sensation, especially at the top of my breasts (which she said was excellent news - uh, ok).  Then she got out a little machine that looked and sounded like a dental drill.  She drew the circles on, colored them in with the custom-mixed pigment, then drilled/tattooed it on.  I felt a little pressure, but that's it.  It took her a couple of tries to get the colors quite right.  She had me take a look and, yes, I got a little teary.  There they were.  Breasts that almost looked as they did last year.  Not really, but close enough.  The color looks a little dark right now, but she said that's because the tattooing brought blood to the surface and the colors will lighten over the next week or so.  More gauze bandages, antibiotic cream and the return of my stupid surgical bra that makes me look like I have the chest of a pudgy twelve-year-old boy.  Oh well.  I can stand it for one more week.  The whole tattooing process took about a half hour.

I see Dr Vera Wang next month, to make sure the tattoos are right, then I'll only see her once a year after that.  It will feel strange, seeing these doctors occasionally instead of all the time.  But it will help me get back to feeling like myself, I'm sure.  She took one last look before she left and said, "You look beautiful."  Thanks to you, Dr Vera Wang.

One more fun photo.  I admit I was a little anxious walking from the subway over to her office this morning.  Imagine my happiness seeing this billboard on my way.  Imaginary boyfriends always make a day better and put a spring in a girl's step... :)

**Six years ago, I reviewed the hideous stage production of Festen; five years ago, it was the Kevin Spacey Moon for the Misbegotten; four years ago, I saw Candide at New York City Opera; three years ago, I greatly enjoyed the Lincoln Center revival of August Wilson's Joe Turner's Come and Gone.  April is always a big theater month for me...