Dare I mark up my body?

So the issue of tattoo-ery has arisen. Us Ten Stanley girls wanted to get tattoos. Susan has already taken the tattoo plunge and already knows what she wants. The rest of us, however, are a little unsure. Jo knows that she wants: (an increasingly elaborate) smiley face on the bottom of her big toe. It's a tattoo you'll never regret people. You'd believe me if you'd seen the trial run done with pen and then sketched for Susan on the table at Jack Astor's.

I'm torn. I know I don't want my tattoo to be a butterfly, skull, nudie girl, dolphin or anyone's name. You're just asking for trouble if you get someone's name tattooed to your body. I was thinking about something that would be appropriate heritage-wise which leads me to the ever popular Celtic tattoo designs (I never claimed my background was unique or interesting). Aside from the fact that the Celtic design is a common one for tattoos, I don't want to be thought a neo-pagan/wicca or Charmed fanatic. I'm many things, but certainly not that.

I want something I won't regret and I want something I can justify to my family. Like he's psychic or something, my grandpa brought up the subject of my dad's tattoos after he picked me up from the train station. It's one of those family stories that gets told over and over again. My dad came home one day with tattoos on his arms, showing them off to the family and my grandpa made a show of excitement:

"Oh those look great Steve."
"Really dad? Thanks."
"Yeah, so great that I think you should get one more, I'll even pay for it. Get 'stupid' tattooed right across your forehead."

So that about sums up my family's stance on tattoos. I'm prepared to take crap, but it better be for something more worthwhile than a butterfly.