In the area where I live lots of women have small discreet nose studs. For years and years I have looked and admired them. However, my fear of needles kept me from seriously considering acquiring one. Needles scare me and make me cry. I will go to great lengths to avoid coming in contact with them if they are piercing or being used to administer medicine. It was iffy if I was actually going to get all the required shots for my trip to South America. Thanks to a lovely tattooed travel nurse named Bob, I got suitably immunized in time. All this is to say, a nose stud despite a deep yearning for one, was likely never to happen.
Never say never. One Saturday afternoon about two years ago I had an attack of courage. In the space of about fifteen minutes, I decided to get my nose pierced and had made an appointment for that afternoon. I called my sister to tell her what I had done. Her response was, and I quote: "Are you out of your fucking mind?" My daughter didn't believe I would go through with it. My best friend refused to come with me because she didn't want to have any thing to do with the whole idea.
So around two in the afternoon I loaded myself in the car and headed to tattoo parlor. A lovely young woman covered in body art helped me pick out my new jewellery and then ushered me into the room. Another lovely woman covered with more body art and piercings arrived to do the deed. She carefully explained what she would do. She did tell me that my eyes would water because of the shock, but it would all be over in 30 seconds. At this point, I was wondering what possessed me to do this rash and impulsive thing. Was it too late to bail? Yes. By this point, the lovely woman had her needle out. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. How bad could it be?
It wasn't bad at all. I kept my eyes closed but it didn't really hurt and she had my teeny tiny sparkly stud in before I knew it. I felt like a wild woman, in the best sense of the word. Very proudly I returned to the car and went to pick up my seventeen year old son at work.
He wasn't ready so I popped into the drug store to pick up some saline for stud care. When I returned to the car, my son was leaning up against talking on his cell. I pointed to my nose. His eyes got big. He put the phone to his chest and said very seriously "I will deal with you later." Why do children think they are in charge of the Universe? He finally got in the car, put on his seat belt and turned towards me. "I don't know what I am going to do with you." Children. They are hysterical!
He doesn't like nose studs. His girlfriend has one, but that didn't help my case. He doesn't like hers either.
My mother's response when I told her was, "What will your congregation say?" I told her that if a very small piece of metal was problem, then we had a bigger problem we needed to address.
The next day at church, it took people at least an hour and half to realize I was sporting nose attire. The kids thought it was great. I even had a seventy year old tell me she liked it.
I still wear it with pride. It is a visible reminder of my promise to myself to live differently and with purpose. All that from a little piece of bling.
Never say never. One Saturday afternoon about two years ago I had an attack of courage. In the space of about fifteen minutes, I decided to get my nose pierced and had made an appointment for that afternoon. I called my sister to tell her what I had done. Her response was, and I quote: "Are you out of your fucking mind?" My daughter didn't believe I would go through with it. My best friend refused to come with me because she didn't want to have any thing to do with the whole idea.
So around two in the afternoon I loaded myself in the car and headed to tattoo parlor. A lovely young woman covered in body art helped me pick out my new jewellery and then ushered me into the room. Another lovely woman covered with more body art and piercings arrived to do the deed. She carefully explained what she would do. She did tell me that my eyes would water because of the shock, but it would all be over in 30 seconds. At this point, I was wondering what possessed me to do this rash and impulsive thing. Was it too late to bail? Yes. By this point, the lovely woman had her needle out. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. How bad could it be?
It wasn't bad at all. I kept my eyes closed but it didn't really hurt and she had my teeny tiny sparkly stud in before I knew it. I felt like a wild woman, in the best sense of the word. Very proudly I returned to the car and went to pick up my seventeen year old son at work.
He wasn't ready so I popped into the drug store to pick up some saline for stud care. When I returned to the car, my son was leaning up against talking on his cell. I pointed to my nose. His eyes got big. He put the phone to his chest and said very seriously "I will deal with you later." Why do children think they are in charge of the Universe? He finally got in the car, put on his seat belt and turned towards me. "I don't know what I am going to do with you." Children. They are hysterical!
He doesn't like nose studs. His girlfriend has one, but that didn't help my case. He doesn't like hers either.
My mother's response when I told her was, "What will your congregation say?" I told her that if a very small piece of metal was problem, then we had a bigger problem we needed to address.
The next day at church, it took people at least an hour and half to realize I was sporting nose attire. The kids thought it was great. I even had a seventy year old tell me she liked it.
I still wear it with pride. It is a visible reminder of my promise to myself to live differently and with purpose. All that from a little piece of bling.
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