I am carrot.
Today was my naming day. It has become official: I am a carrot. The story is long, complicated, trivial, and somewhat disgusting. But it must be told.
Everyone has a talent. A lucky few have more than most. One of my many talents is wedging a large metal spoon between the tendons in my wrist and the bones beneath. This in turn cuts off the circulation to my hand, and all the blood drains out of my rather disgustingly protruding veins. This is an amazing feat, not to be copied by any other than myself. Even the strongest of stomachs are uneasy when in the presence of this talent.
The fact that I have several fading keloid scars running across my wrist must not be dismissed. I forgot the down, not across rule (thankfully). These scars have been the cause of great embarrassment and awkwardness throughout my high school years, so since my 18th birthday is nigh, I thought it'd be best to get a tattoo to cover them up.
I found several lovely ideas, most involving Japanese characters. I settled on the theme of Protection. I'm superstitious when it comes to this subject. I am a hematite freak and possess several talismans and such to ward off evil beings. But I've never had something to protect me from myself. Perhaps if I got a tattoo, I would be unable to inflict pain upon my beaten frame.
I was in the midst of a discussion on this exact topic with a friend, when I offered to show her my wrist spoon vein drain trick. She was in desperate need of a talent. I said her ability to put up with Nick was talent enough for anyone, but this was not satisfactory. She needed something more.
I was unable to think of anything more amazing than my wrist spoon vein drain. I expressed my worries concerning ink poisoning because of the veins in my wrist being so close beneath the surface -- if I was gonna get a tattoo, I wanted to live long enough to look at it after all the bleeding stopped. Pam said I should have ink injected directly into my veins so that they could change colors, most likely orange. She said she would then call me Carrot. I wasn't too enthused about injecting ink into my bloodstream to get colorful veins, but in order to sooth her hurt I agreed to be called Carrot from now on.
But the story does not end there! Pam was in need of a name for herself. I asked the
esoteric Nick what he thought of his girlfriend being a
pea. He had this to say in response:
kaytay: I am a carrot. Pam is a pea. What are you?
nick: a peanis
Pam and I started brainstorming as to what we should call her instead of a
pea. We settled on the prestigious
green bean.
But we are still looking for her elusive talent.