Hello Clarice. I’ve been busy with college work and stuff, and my attention span has taken a nose-dive too.
I’ve googled Brad Pitt and already forgotten how old he is, watched five minutes of the Fyre documentary and eaten about twenty astrobelts since beginning this sentence.
I also booked a new tattoo in Scotland. The only other time I got one here was in a marketplace when I was fifteen and really into the movie ‘Requiem for a Dream’. I wont comment on it, but let’s just say the X-factor chose it as their theme music shortly after I had it inked into my body. Unfortunate.
Most of the ones I have now were in little tattoo parlours where you chance your luck for 30€. Three are from Amsterdam so that should say something.
The last one was two years ago after a magical day wandering about the insanely white streets of Montpelier. The main square is like something from a Disney set. It’s hard to believe it’s a real place and people live there. They mist their vegetables in the supermarkets !
Anyway I was listening to Flume the other week, thinking about being young(er) and really believing I should have ‘only love is all maroon’ tattooed somewhere like my ankle in a typewriter font. Who hurt me?
I dread to think of my body if I’d got all the tattoos I wanted to. I would have something tragic like the lyrics from B*witched – C’est la vie translated into Hebrew tattooed across my back, adorned with Sailor Jerry butterflies or a picture of Troy Bolton’s face.
And people in public sure do adore asking a person what their tattoo means and watching them squirm. That’s how you identify sadists.
After the last one I wanted to leave it at that and have 7. If it’s good enough for Voldemort it’s good enough for me. But now I’m thinking maybe 9.
Having an even number of tattoos gives me that feeling people get about odd numbers on the telly remote or the radio. An even number would feel icky somehow.
Speaking of things that are icky, I was trying to play that game RuPaul plays on What’s The Tea? where you imagine who would play someone you know in a movie of their life. It’s harder than it sounds.
Not that I picture Justin Theroux playing me, but it made me think of him in Charlies Angels with that horrific Irish accent…
I can’t believe Jennifer Aniston married the man who spoke with that accent.
Has she seen this movie? Surely she has.
Does she ever bring it up? Do they just not talk about it?
That accent was a gift from Justin Theroux to the world.
And I give it to you.