My 31 day blog challenge was moving along nicely until my phone line went dead…and with it my Wi-Fi! Service was restored earlier today. Without further ado, here’s what should have been last Saturday’s post.
I’m not sure how I came to be obsessed with piercings and tattoos. I certainly didn’t get it from my parents. Mom believed that my one pair of ear piercings was enough. I was of the view that there was no such thing as too many ear piercings. We had a tiff and she reiterated that I couldn’t get more piercings. This ticked me off for two reasons: 1. I was twenty-one years old (living in her house but that’s not what we’re talking about here) and 2. I was a working adult. Not too long after this argument, on a brilliant Saturday morning, I walked into a jewellery store and walked out with my second pair of piercings.
Fast forward a few years. I was visiting my sis. We were at the mall and I spotted a Claire’s. I decided that I absolutely had to have a cartilage piercing. When I got back to Trinidad that piercing was the first thing my mother saw as I got out of daddy’s car. Between clenched teeth, she asked, “WHAT…have you done to your ear?”
Another few years later, I decided to get a nose ring. I had resisted for a while because while my hair covered most of my earrings, a sparkly nose ring would taunt my parents every time I looked at them. Daddy wasn’t happy and he let me know it. This was the only time he’d ever commented on my perhaps-future-piercing-ideas. I was living on my own so my parents didn’t see the nose ring right away. Daddy saw it first. He’d passed by my apartment and we talked and talked until I couldn’t take it anymore and pointed out my nose stud to him. His response was a high pitched “Ooooh! That’s what you did?!” He thought by “nose ring” I’d meant “septum piercing” which he wasn’t a fan of.
After dad passed away, I thought about the stuff that I wanted to do that I hadn’t yet done. Tattoos were on my list. Mom threatened to stop talking to me. We laughed because we both knew that she wouldn’t. When I got the first three she surveyed how I’d been forever altered, merely hmmm-ing her disbelief that I’d actually gone through with it. By the time I got the fourth and subsequently expanded it, she had accepted that it is what it is. I haven’t made known my plans for two more.
These days, I’m enamoured with tragus and nipple piercings. Mom rolled her eyes at the tragus idea but she had A LOT to say about nipple rings. She doesn’t care that Rihanna has one. She is mortified at the thought of me roaming the streets with a nipple ring beneath my clothes. I have held off because I don’t want to have to call my sis to tell her my nipple ring killed our mother.
Do you have a nipple ring? Did anybody die as a result?