It's been over 3 months and I STILL can't believe I have a giant bar in my ear!

Industrials.

Not just a term for machinery. Nope, in the piercing world, industrials refer to a double piercing, most commonly known to be in the ear:


That's my ear! Courtesy of the wicked high quality webcam on my laptop.

Pretty much I'm a chicken. I hate needles. Hate them. Probably not as much as my sister (who hid under the doctor's table thing when she was younger to avoid getting shots), but I've been known to be quite threatening when approached with a syringe.

The last couple experiences with needles initially didn't seem so bad, but I have pretty bad reactions. Last summer, I had my blood drawn. Not fun. Would NOT recommend it. EVER. They didn't tell me they would need to fill up 3 vials. And neither did my RN mother. She said it would take 10 seconds.

Thanks mom.

Not quite, it was like forever in my mind. And it didn't feel nice. An achy kind of pain that you just want to cry through. Like a really bad day, not so much a sharp pain, but a dull, ebbing pain. I would absolutely not have agreed to the blood drawing if I didn't feel like such a toughie for getting my tattoo a week earlier. And it was either two days before or after that that I had my meningitis vaccination.

The meningitis shot is exactly why I hate getting poked and prodded. I use the shot guard thing, because, again, I am a chicken. So it hardly even hurt. I was like "Oh wow, that was nothing, I don't know why I've been scared of needles for so long."

I got a wake up call later that night. I had a REALLY bad reaction where my right arm started cramping and aching and numbing. Then that pain jumped to my left arm as the right got worse. And my mother, the RN, wouldn't help. I even went into my rents' room bawling and nobody cared, all the while the cramping continued to take over my entire body.

Things like that are just scary. My sister ended up taking care of me, bless her soul. Gave me a few benadryl and ibuprofen and I was out in about half an hour. Thank science for (legal) drugs that quickly take pain away.

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Anyway, I meant for this story to start at one point and go forward, but it seems to be going backwards in time. Oh well.

Ever since fourth grade I had wanted my belly button pierced. My mom did too (mine, not hers) for some reason, even though she wouldn't let me get my ears pierced a second time. At age 13 at the end of 8th grade, I was given a paid appointment for my birfday. I ended up chickening out, which I am SOOO glad for because as it turned out, the place I went to never had a license for navel piercings. I found this out when I called up 2 years later and was told they no longer did piercings. The guy who did end up piercing me told me all these horrific stories about the woman there. Eck. He was awesome though, Pat. With the giant earlobes. My sister recommended the shop after getting her tattoo (really brave of her, but I would guess symbolic reasons and emotional connections helped to encourage her).

So my navel piercing was really my first big step in facing a needle phobia. It was the MOST intense pain, like I knew the meaning of the word "pierce," but that feeling was the shortest moment of time. Like the snap of a finger; a millisecond. So I thought I was good because after that I didn't feel a thing.

But then I was told to stand. And I passed out.

I guess something about blood running to and fro or something like that, it leaves your brain and bam, you're falling with no intention of doing so. Fortunately the chair/table thing was behind me AND so was my dad! Who caught me before I like hit my head or something.

So the rest of the day I feel faint, although, it was one of the best days of my life. Also I got really good ice cream afterwards.

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So last year, I figured "if I could get my belly button pierced, I can get a tattoo, especially if Libby could get one too."

So tattoo, no whoop. I was surprised. Yeah, it hurt, but nothing I've never experienced before. I went to the same place that I got my piercing. Turns out, everybody there remembers my daddy because he wants this lame-ass Boston "B" on his bicep (I lie, the Boston "B" could never be lame, even on a bicep) and I guess that stands out in people's minds. I think it was also the fact that he made such a big deal about actually being with me when I got it done. He's a big wussy: can't stand wiggly teeth and other little weird things like that.

My tattooer said that people describe the pain like a cat scratch or a beesting. And it pretty much felt like someone was carving up my arm. The best way I can describe it was that it was the worst tolerable pain. I hadn't had a beesting since I was like 5 so I don't remember what that feels like but after it was all done and wrapped up and paid for and ready to go, it had this annoying burning sensation that I can only imagine is what people felt when they described tattoos as beestings.

When I got a touch-up, I didn't get that burning feeling so hooray! I would totally just ink up my entire body if I had the money (and if that appealed to me) because in the end, it was really no big deal. I though I would feel weak like when I got pierced, but I felt pumped and ready to go. "Slow Ride" was playing on the radio and lasted for like ever and I think I spent the rest of the day playing video games.

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So one good experience and I'm all "needles can't be that bad....and if I could get a tattoo...and a piercing...I could go ahead and get health-related vaccinations."

Then I had those terrible experiences...

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Main point of the story:

I had seen an industrial for the first time my senior year of high school and immediately I KNEW I wanted one.

So finally, I'm 18, I can do whatever, I just got money from Christmas and my friend is getting a tattoo. The guy who pierced me before has left "my" shop, so I have to go international (outta state) anyway. My friend and I make a pact to get art-ed together so we go to her choice shop a few days before New Years.

Oh My Geezum. The industrial is supposed to be one of the most painful and most highly rejected piercings. I thought I might chicken out, but as you can see, I didn't.

In fact, I didn't get the chance to. The piercer, a woman with horns surgically implanted in her head, made fun of me when I freaked out when she brought the pen to my ear. I didn't know it was a pen. But she goes and makes fun of me, and I relax a bit because I'm thinking, "Oh, she's making the placements, so I'll still get to look in the mirror before needle time."

My lobes (I think), b-button AND tattoo were all "placed" and I got to have the ultimate decision if things were placed just right, so I just assumed that this would be the same case.

Nobody warns me that she's about to stab me with a giant hollow needle. I think she planned it that way. Seriously genius. I wasn't even given a chance to chicken out. She has one hole done and I hardly felt it, it hurt less than my belly button. And before I can truly comprehend the situation, she says "take a breath" and the thought that I'm halfway done and there is no backing out ran across my mind and I automatically did what I was told. The second one didn't feel as sharp of a pain, but was more wide spread.

So then I made new friends in my new semester and one of them has hers done. I guess it had started to reject so she went to some wicked good lady to consult who told her that she shouldn't have had it pierced in the first place. She apparently doesn't have the right kind of ears.

And get this! The lady she went to go see turns out to be the lady who pierced my ear! AAAAND... I guess she is like one of the best piercers not only in the area, but in Massachusetts. In New England.

So I got pierced by the best of the best. A great experience, but seeing that I'm still surprised that I have a permanent piece of art on my arm and it took me forever to get used to my navel piercing (which is now weird for me to be without), I'm still not used to metal rod in my head.

And I still can't believe that I went through with it! I'm so surprised with myself on a daily basis now. And I'm currently looking for the perfect picture of a dragon to get tattooed on my hip. I had originally thought that would be my first one, but the rose is MUCH more meaningful to me.

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On a completely unrelated side note: The Wedding Singer is just about the greatest movie ever. I think it was the first movie I ever saw at this house and is just a great classic with great songs. It's on ABC Family right now and brings back quite a bit of memories.