Piercing tattoos

I have been spending an obscene amount of time trying to inject more superficial tiny little upgrades into my blog that some of you may not notice at all – some of which have been failing and make me bite my fingernails in utter rage, which more or less explains the lack of entries recently. And so here I am to make a pledge, to say screw it to useless enhancements (that Lightbox thingy absolutely doesn’t work for me) and focus on what really matters: blogging.

Not that I have anything good to say because this week is a presentation week, and as you may have gathered by now, that means diverging time and energy into this conspicuous little 5-minute talk delegated between 3 members – and you know how I absolutely abhor presentations.

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I have this little habit of only eating certain food on certain occasions I deemed as worthy of eating them, like watching a favourite TV series or reading newspapers. Among the food that happened to fall under this peculiar category are cookies, junk food, and ice-creams, although the latter I no longer can indulge due to the stomach-rumbling nightmare they cause hours later.

As it happens, I was on a Lost Season 3 rampage since last week, and I have an unopened box of cookies. Not any ordinary cookies…

Does this not make you salivate? Look at the detail of the luscious crumbs, the faint chocolate that slowly melts on your tongue the moment you put one in your mouth…

It’s Famous Amos my fellow brethren! And the box is emptying at a faster rate than my watching the series.

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An odd thought crossed my mind today while I was sitting down in my college cafeteria staring into space. Alright, it isn’t particularly odd to begin with, but since 2 years ago I’ve entertained thoughts of getting my ear(s) pierced, and a small, adequate tattoo, probably on my flimsy little bicep or on my back.

Truthfully there’s nothing wrong with piercing and tattooing, except the negative connotations that most elderly people seem to be associating them with (“wah, you boy, you pierce, you girl”) – and shockingly enough, some of our close-minded friends as well.

“Then why bother piercing or tattooing at all?” some of you might ask. If I were to be frank, I thought a pair of tiny earrings would look good (not the ridiculously sized ones that looked like they’ll fit an elephant), or ‘cool’ as some of us may put it, and a tattoo, a fresh personal statement or message to the masses – to celebrate your individuality, as I’d like to think.

Seeing that I’m still under my parents’ roof, I did ask my parents at one point – quite nonchalantly – about piercing, and gales of shouts of “NOOOO” and threats about disowning surfaced, which killed any thought of wanting to pierce, much less tattooing. Although once I do move out in the non-distant future, I wouldn’t mind entertaining such thoughts again. :P