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Thursday, July 26, 2007

Sometimes when I look in the mirror when I'm shirtless, I notice the giant blue tattoo I got on my right shoulder when I was 18. I'm not proud of this tattoo, but I'm at the point where I just kind of live with it and don't think about it much. But sometimes--these shirtless mirror times--I feel self-conscious about it, and I imagine conversations I might have with snooty people at a pool or Martha's Vineyard or the Hamptons.

"What is that ghastly thing on your arm?"

"It's a tattoo."

"Why would you do that to yourself?"

"Look, it's just something that happened. I can't do anything about it, and I have to just deal with it."

"That's not much of a philosophy."

"Look, sometimes your wife cuts off your penis when you're sleeping and throws it into a field from a moving car. Sometimes you get smashed in the legs with a lead pipe just when you're America's lock for women's singles figure skating in the Olympics. You can either sit there crying about it or you can just deal with it."

"Are we back in the early 90s or something?"

"Excuse me, I have to go watch an episode of Dream On."

Anyway, it's not something I like to think about.

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1 Comments:

Blogger Cibbuano said...

When I was young, I had the equivalent conversation with people who were about to get a tattoo. I imagine they're enjoying your state of mind now, as well.

'

11:53 PM  

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