Remember when tattoos were actually cool? They had that whole masochistic, rebel-without-a-cause-like indifference to them and they were almost always associated with electric guitars and oil paint. I'm as straight as they come but if I walked into a coffee shop and the girl behind the counter had an amazing sleeve on her left arm and a symbol behind her ear, I almost always wanted to get into bed with her. Sadly enough, I find myself a little repelled by them lately. I almost wish there were requirements for who can and can not get a tattoo. I mean, these valley girls are ruining it for the rest of us! The hostesses at SOL have both gotten 3 in the last 6 months. One of them has a tiny sun on the side of her face-it's weird. I keep thinking it's a spider and have to stop myself from smacking it every time I see her. "Oh my God, don't move honey, you have a gigantic bug on your face, WHACK! Oh, um never mind, sorry." This is what they do on their Saturdays now, take the BMW to go buy more blond hair dye, stop at Banana Republic then head over to the nearest tattoo parlor to get some lyrics to a Beatles song tattooed on their waist right next to their zodiac sign and a fucking seagull.
On a lighter note, I feel better! Like my old self. That sickness really took a toll on me but I feel good again, hopeful even. Counting down the days til I leave this crazy place, but at least I feel hopeful. Maybe I'll get a palm tree tattoo on my butt tomorrow or maybe a sign on my chest that says "saving up for plastic surgery". The world is my big fat smog infested oyster. I have to admit, I'm going to miss making fun of Orange County.
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