The One Where I Am Ridiculously Non-Rockstar And Almost Kill Everyone in a Bloody Mirror Death.

1) whereby, Flutterby has wanted to rock a fun piercing for a very long time, but has repeatedly chickened out, and, 2) whereby it is deemed that after four years as a derby girl, one must either have a tattoo and/or piercing OR a drug and alcohol abuse problem, and, 3) whereby Flutterby's friends imposed their plan involving frivolity and companionship and many hands to hold, and, 4) whereby Flutterby's advancing age made necessary to commit to this plan of action posthaste; It is forthwith concluded that Flutterby had better like this new steel addition to her face:

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OK, so seriously... I would love nothing more than to tell you I was a total rockstar and aced this whole endeavour with flying colours. But I can't.

First, I must admit that I had every intention of cancelling this appointment. Not only was I just a little nervy about it, but it had been rescheduled and the new date didn't exactly work well with my hormonal state. But, my friend wanted me there to at least hold her hand, and it was the least I could do to show up and be there for her as originally planned.

 However, I did have some intention of possibly following through; I had taken out cash for the procedure. I was just going to see how things felt when I was there. I arrived just in time to be there for my friend (who got a super trippy piercing, she is my hero) and frankly, considering all... I thought things went awesome. While I didn't watch the procedure, it didn't really bother me at all to be there and see it right after. So, when Mr. Piercer with his friendly smile and cute double nose studs asked if I was game, I hopped onto the table and said, "let's do it".

Mr. Piercer was very efficient and put me at ease, I really wasn't just too nervy at all. He marked the spot and my girlfriends in the room all smiled in approval at the placement. My lip was clamped, a deep breath and one big pinch later, I had a 16 gauge needle imbedded in my lip. It was switched out for the jewellery and after a short struggle with the ball (which totally didn't feel good, but I handled it alright) I was golden. I could feel that I was amped. But I sat up and conversed with my friends while we paid for our new piercings. It felt weird. And numb. And I could see the stud when I looked down my nose. It was seriously huge. I looked in the mirror. What the heck? I have a steel post sticking almost a half inch out of my lip? This was not what I planned! (to accommodate for swelling tonight and tomorrow I was told)

Somehow the conversation got turned to infection and crusty abscesses and it was then that my adrenaline dump got the best of me. I decided to lay back down. It was just my ears feeling funny, but I KNOW my body, and that was not a good sign. *sigh* Really, self? We're gonna do this NOW, 5 minutes after everything is done?

 I knew that driving wouldn't be a good idea at that moment, and so my friend (who is a regular with this shop and crew) suggested that I come to the back room with her while she had a smoke and I could rest on one of the couches. We meander through the hallways and doorways to the back room and I am feeling worse by the second, only to find that the couches are all occupied with burly tattoo artists on drawing breaks. They pay no mind to the pasty, flushed wobbly chick and I decide I had better double back to the first room we were in. Which is where thing get weird. Cause my eyes decided not to see stuff normally. And what I thought was a doorway was just a giant mirror. And I almost killed us all. Thankfully, my girl grabbed me and I spent the next 5 minutes leaning against the legs of Cute Tattoo Dude while Mr. Piercer and my friend keep me conscious.

 Aren't I so much fun? Good grief. I've got to find some less embarrassing pastimes to share with you all.

The story ends well. I managed to pull myself together and drive home just fine and I can now almost look at this thing in the mirror without wanting to lay down for a moment.  Yay, me! 

The Kid was shocked and appalled that I would do this cause it hurts.  I am now his Fear Factor Hero.  The Princess can't look at it without feeling faint, herself.  And surprisingly, Mr. F really, really likes it. He thinks it's hot.  Rawr.