Luxolive's entry about the Winnie-The-Pooh Tattoo That Almost Was and Things That Seemed Like a Good Idea at Eighteen got me thinking about how glad, how very, very glad, I am that I narrowly missed the tattooing/piercing trend that ruled the mid-to-late 90's.

Now, for a lot of people, tattoos and piercings are a real part of who they are and very much represent the image they want to project. That's not who I'm talking about. I'm talking about how, in the mid-90's it was suddenly the alterna-cool thing for every single college-age kid, whether he or she be punk, goth, deadhead or frat boy, to get a tattoo or piercing. How cool! How alternative and original! Especially if we all do it!

Don't get me wrong, I am very cool with the idea of body art and I fully appreciate and admire the tattoos and piercings of my friends. But, it's not for me. And I'm SO grateful I was too poor and too indecisive to ever end up with the tattoos that I thought were a GREAT IDEA when I was in college.

If I'd gone with my instincts, I'd have Eeyore tattooed on my body somewhere. Also, an Edward Gorey bat, because nobody has ever thought of that before. Later, I toyed with the whole symbolic/tribal thing, but even thinking about it made me feel like a poseur. Really, I'm the whitest girl alive. My tribe is Richmond fucking Virginia, for god's sake. Hell, Smarmy has a tribal band tattooed on his arm! If that's not proof enough of a bad idea, what is?

A few years back, I even considered having a sock monkey tattooed on the back of my neck. The hell? How is that any more of a good idea than Eeyore? I love sock monkeys, but will I love them when I'm 75? For real, y'all. It's just not me. If I've not been able to come up with a decent tattoo by now, it's not going to happen. Also, I'm fickle and will probably decide a year later that I hate it.

I'll also admit than when I told Noah (who has many tattoos) about my plans for the small sock monkey tattoo, he completely foiled the plan by saying "NO! Don't get a small tattoo! It'll go all blurry. You have to get a big one!" Hahahahaha. Thanks Noah, for scaring me straight.

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And then, we have piercings. Piercings were, I think, more popular because they're not as permanent as tattoos and they're easier to hide from the parents. I have pierced ears, two holes in one ear, three in the other. That's it. I don't even wear earring in the extra holes anymore because I'm too lazy.

As for extraneous piercings? Not. For. Me. I have puncture wound issues, just ask my husband. I get faint and pukey when puncture wounds occur. I would never, ever, willingly PAY someone to puncture me. Also, I'm not crazy about holes that ooze and take months to heal.

I won't deny the finished results are sometimes intriguing and cool looking, but I'm really not going to have someone manually insert a thick needle through a sensitive part of my body in order to achieve this look. No, no, no. Not even.

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Does all this make me a square? Maybe. But maybe it has more to do with my life-long fear of being a poseur. Growing up, I knew perfectly well that I wasn't a natural cool kid, so, in order to achieve cool, I had walk a very fine line between poseur and follower. The goal was to be original, but not in a way that would get you ridiculed. I failed for a long, long time.

Eventually I did make cool kid friends and, luckily, managed to pick them well. They were actually cool rather than manufactured cool (which is really just a more creative version of poseur). They let me be cool with them and gradually I found my happy medium. I was creative with the clothes and hair, and managed to stay true to myself.

But, tattooed and pierced, I am not and probably never will be. My true blue geekness just doesn't allow for it. I know my limits and I know I'm just not the kind of person who a tattoo belongs on. I would never get used to it and it would never feel like it belonged to me. Piercings seem more like something i could pull off, but again, the whole puncture part really isn't an option for me. All I've got left is my hair, which I'm willing to chop off, spike up and dye various unnatural shades of red. It's enough. It'll do.

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Ow.

Last year, if you won the Northern California Single Speed World Championships part of your prize was a brand. Don't want the brand? Don't win the race.

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