It Goes the Other Way Too.

For a few years now, I've been debating about whether or not to get a tattoo. The reasons holding me back were:

  1. I couldn't think of anything really meaningful to get tattooed on me; something that wouldn't make me feel like a turd for having arbitrarily chosen a "pretty" design.
  2. Everyone I know has a tattoo. Everyone. Well, at least 95%. So, in an ironic way, not having a tattoo makes me unique.
  3. I've seen some pretty horrible botched jobs and pitied the person who was stuck with that, forever on their body
  4. Anything that looks good now would probably make me feel trashy and weird when I'm 60.

But like a shipping container full of Vietnamese whores left to rot on the docks of a Baltimore shipyard, those objections have slowly been overcome, one by one.

I've finally thought of something both beautiful and personally meaningful that I would be proud to show off and wouldn't mind having on my body for the remainder of my shoulder-bearing, if not child-bearing, years.
I've gradually lost my disgust for fashion hegemony. Sorority girls always steal my fashion ideas anyway. Which, when you think about it, does not speak too highly of my fashion choices. So I shouldn't be too attached to those and shouldn't worry too much about trying to be the only human born after 1980 who does not have at least one tattoo.
Also, Nashville's tattooing community has really come up in quality in the last few years. I'm no longer frightened that I'll end up with a three year old's finger painting on my back.

And finally, as for the whole "This shit will look stupid when I'm ninety" argument, I realized today that I'm probably not going to make it past 30.

So come share in my neuroses as I tally off the top 10 reasons why I'm pretty sure I might be dying.

  1. I'm no longer capable of sleeping through the night without getting up to pee at least once, sometimes twice. And I cheer for good bowel movements.

  2. I think everyone's pants are too tight and young people these days don't have enough respect for their elders.

  3. When I lean on my left elbow, my thumb goes numb.

  4. I ENJOY cabbage, both pickled and stewed.

  5. I have a weird bump on the inside of my elbow. It's pink and inflated with a little dot in the middle like a tiny elfin nipple. I never worried about it too much, but now it seems to have spawned a partner tiny elfin nipple.

  6. Sometimes I forget how old I am and have to do the math.

  7. Elastic waistbands sound like a good idea.

  8. When I sit still for a long time with my legs crossed, the force of my pulse rocks me back and forth. When I was in Japan, I sometimes mistakenly thought we were having an earthquake when really, it was just my high blood pressure.

  9. Hot tamales give me horrible gas. Not the Mexican food, the cinnamon movie theater candy.

Ergot: I should go on and get a tattoo because I'm dying. But it goes the other way too. There are some people who, in a just and righteous world, should probably die based on the tattoos they've gotten.