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This last Easter Sunday was indeed one of the best, most eye-opening Easters that I have ever celebrated. My boyfriend and I hightailed it to my grandmother’s house this year to bask in a whole lotta family fun. We shared stories with the aunts and uncles, ate some delicious goodies, had Easter egg
hunts with the cousins and passed around the newest additions to our already large family.
Oh, and of course, the holiday would not have been complete if a few of my family members didn’t accost me personally and decide it was time to lecture me about my decision to permanently scar my body with such a ridiculous assortment of tattoos.
I tell ya, a girl can only hear “you know those are never going away” so many times.
It seems that every time I get a new tattoo, I have to hear the same spiel from the same people. Believe me, I understand tattoos are permanent. I understand some people will look at me a little strangely for deciding to modify my body in such a way. I understand that I may be forced to wear long sleeve sweaters on many occasions in my future. But do I care? Nope. Not one bit.
You see, I learned a lesson this weekend. Well, actually I gained a new perspective on life and tattoos, and no, I didn’t learn it in a classroom or from some textbook. This lesson was taught to me by none other than Michelle Tanner and everyone’s favorite uncle: Jesse Katsopolis.
That evening, I happened to catch the last half of one of the most heart-wrenching episodes of one of the greatest shows ever: “Full House.” And don’t pretend like you are too cool to have watched this show. Everyone did.
In this particular episode, Uncle Jesse’s grandfather Papouli came to visit the Tanner household. All was well and good until Papouli decided it was time to check out. That’s right, the old man died in his sleep, just after befriending little Michelle. By the time the credits rolled, I was a mess. I couldn’t hold the tears back. As my boyfriend wiped my tear stained cheeks, I sobbed the words: “Man, life is too short.”
Stop laughing and let me continue.
I’m sure Papouli wasn’t expecting to go so soon. And chances are, when my day comes, I’ll think it snuck up on me too. Believe me, life goes by way too fast. So why waste it away? There aren’t enough guaranteed hours in a person’s lifetime to do everything she would want to do, anyway. Why spend the little time we have pondering decisions that may not even matter a few years from now?
So what does this have to do with tattoos and finicky relatives? I’m getting there.
When it comes down to it, the skin I have now is only temporary. I’ll only have it for what, 50 more years or so, and that’s if I’m lucky. Why shouldn’t I do what I please with it? Why shouldn’t I do something I enjoy? I don’t plan on hating the tattoos I have now in thirty years, anyway. But say I do wake up thirty years from now and decide that tattoos are absolutely icky. Well, who cares? Life is only temporary. Better enjoy every day for what it is. Get tattooed. Have fun. Make hasty decisions and do it all with a smile on your face. Stop worrying about the future and enjoy today. Live each day to the fullest. After all, who says there will even be a tomorrow to worry about?
Valerie Rojas, a junior journalism major, is editorial director of the Campus Times. She can be reached by e-mail at email@example.com.