For my own little gushing pleasures
Today I decided to get my nails done, not at the American spa in the mall like the last couple times, but at the Asian place where I had said I'd never go anymore after the one time I went when I was about 15 because they all talk shit about you in their scary ass language. They're better at it and they cost less and don't rush you, so I was like whatever, talk all the shit you want, motherfuckers, just do your job and be my nail slave for half an hour.
So I go in, explain myself 5 times to 5 different girls at the front til one of them understood what I wanted, and go to my station with "Donna" whos real name is probably Xyiuiughzhang, and all of a sudden I'm like bumrushed. All the workers in there started like attacking me and peeling my sleeves up to look at and touch my tattoos. As soon as one batch of them finished and they'd roll my sleeves down, another group came over to look. It was just so awkward because its so quiet in there because all the customers are American and all of them are definitely not and there's that tension because everyone knows how much shit those bastards talk about your jacked up nails.
So finally it calms down, and this one tall skinny sexy guy with shaggy hair who looks like a long lost member of 18 Visions comes over to me and talks to me, and tells me he used to be a tattoo artist in California but I don't know for sure if thats true because then he told me he had a motorcycle accident and like... a blood clot/brain tumor and 1 year to live, but that's fine. And he brushes my hair off my back to look at that star I got when I was 18 and goes "You should get 5 more." So I was like ... uhh... what? And he says "You're a superstar!" Hahah okay and I can't remember what I said next but he goes "No, you're absolutely gorgeous, you're perfect the way you are."
Seriously, it made me feel amazing. I've been so miserable and so depressed for so long and that just made my day. My week. Even if that was a lie too, it doesn't even matter.