Chicks Dig Scars

Shiny bits in my head

I dig piercings. Piercings lead to scars. Maybe one day chicks will dig me.

I’ve always been into piercings. My Mum has been less enthralled with my passion, but every now and then I’ll feel the need to go get something new pierced through my skin. I figure that due to my unfortunate un-coordinated nature, and occasionally ill-advised decision making (I put my foot in a heater when I was a little tyke), I’ll end up with plenty of scars anyway. What’s a few more?

My latest piercing acquisition is in fact not a new one, but a change to an old one. When I was 16 I stretched out my ear, and over the years have gone up a couple of millimeters. For ages I was at 10mm, but the last time I was Sydney I decided to go the next step, taking me up to 12mm.  So I bought me a 12mm tunnel*, and thought I was all set.

The last time I went up a size, I just pushed the bigger tunnel through without too much difficulty. This time was not to be as easy. But that’s cool, I can deal with that. I thought that I’d buy a stretcher^ for my ear, and do it gradually.

Initial thoughts: I’ll buy a stretcher as inconspicuous as possible, so that if I’m wearing it at work it’s not noticeable.

Process: Ok, so I’ll just have a look-see on E-Bay, and see if I can get something clear and not too obvious…. OH MY GOD THERE’S ONE WITH BLING!! I WANT THE BLING! IWANTITIWANTITIWANTIT!!!

Result: I received the stretcher. I put it in. I looked like what The Offspring were talking about with Pretty Fly For A White Guy, if the guy was in fact a chick, and if that chick were hoping to be gangster and hardcore. It was 12mm of bling, right there in my earlobe, with a tapered end long enough to be used as some sort of eye-gouging device.

You only wish that you could be this cool

In hindsight, I can spot my mistake. I was on E-Bay – at night time. Time plays a major factor in regretful online purchases. I’m normally very aware of the time, and try to limit any purchasing after certain times, but this one slipped by me. It also reinforced my rule – no shopping after 9pm.

Needless to say, I rocked the gangster look for about one day, shocked the hell out of somebody with it, and then swapped over to the tunnel. I’ve learnt my lesson – the hard way.

How about you? Have you participated in any late-night shopping that you regret?

*A flesh tunnel, also known as a spacer, is a type of body piercing jewellery. It is also sometimes referred to as a spool, fleshy, earlet, expander or eyelet. Wearers generally use them to show off the process of stretching that they have gone through.

^An ear stretcher is a round spike with a tapered end. Pushing the spike gradually through the ear stretches the piercing to the desired size.

Radio Silence

Well. I haven’t blogged for, like, ever (at least 2 weeks). I apologise to my three readers out there – I understand that this may have been upsetting for you. Actually, truth be told, you probably didn’t notice.

But I’m back now.

Mum's place #1

I did a last-minute trip up to Sydney during that time. It all happened very quickly. I decided on the Monday to go back, and then by Wednesday I was packed up and on my way to the airport. The trip there was… hellish. I underestimated how long Susie and I would take for our traditional halfway point coffee on the way to Launceston, and we arrived at the airport with 6 minutes to check in. I pretty much dropped and rolled from the car, and stumbled into the airport in an ungainly fashion (hey, it almost looked like I was at a job interview!), dragging my 20kg suitcase (how did that happen?? I thought I’d packed light!). Whenever I get anxious/fatigued/underfed/over-caffeinated, my hands have a tendency to shake. And on this particular day, I was 3 of those 4 things. I did my very best to check in, ran up to the counter, and tried to control my hyperventilating.

Mum's place #2

My plane ended up being delayed anyway, so I had to time to chill out, and try and eat something. I ducked into the toilets at one point, and when I came out Susie was standing there, holding my handbag in front of her, and telling me that, “TheyjustsaidthatyourplanehasdepartedalreadyandIdidn’tknowwhatwasgoingon!!!” so I snatched my bag from her, and charged to the security point. Turns out that they were fibbing – people were just boarding. Jetstar, you trickers.

One of my favourite little dudes

The flight itself was fairly unremarkable, apart from my sudden realisation that if I’m reading while the plane takes off, I get a sudden and severe bout of motion sickness.

Lesson learnt.

Dr Chris Brown

I arrived at Sydney in one piece, and caught the train from the airport to Central, and then from Central into the mountains. Of course, I chose a flight that coincided with peak hour. If you’ve never been on a Blue Mountains train, they’re basically the same as normal trains, but the little end compartments are smaller, and don’t have space for people with, say, a heavy suitcase. I was crammed into that space with about 7 other people (personal space? Don’t be silly…), and the humidity of the day became apparent. My travel fatigue was hitting me, and I kept glaring at this guy sitting on the floor across from me. “Oh, look at you, Mr. Hipster Man, with your hipster hat and your guitar casually strewn on the floor. Look at you looking all comfortable and filling out the Sudoku puzzle in the free newspaper with your pencil. Who carries a pencil? Oh, a hipster dude of course. Freaking hipsters.”

Mum's place #3

Meanwhile, I was sweaty, attempting to fend off the hordes of people that kept walking past, and trying to not lean against the guy standing next to me. He had a rats tail. I’m pretty sure that they’re contagious.

Anyhoo, after all of that, I got to my Mum’s house intact, and went and sat in the corner for a while, rocking myself and mumbling that maybe if I had a hipster hat, things would have been different.

Looking oh-so-cute in his sunhat

I didn’t get up to a lot while I was there – it was a pretty short trip really. The highlights included getting some new piercings to replace my sternum piercing that I bode farewell to last year, meeting Bondi Vet Dr. Chris Brown (in Penrith Plaza of all places), rescuing my friend at 5am after his car had broken down, and making him call me Sarah, Lord Of The Universe, Rescuer Of Ryan From The Ravages Of Rouse Hill (I REALLY like alliteration), and hitting up the local markets and op shops with my Mum.

New piercings

I also did a bit of domestic stuff at my Mum’s place, like dusting and whatnot. I’m not sure what came over me, but it just happened. Don’t expect it to become a regular thing.

Michelle often makes fun of me for the fact that I am quite particular about the way that I like things done. There was an ongoing joke when she took over my market stall for me (in February) that I would leave measurements for her as to where everything should be placed, and I would expect photos to prove that she had followed my instructions.

Mum's place #4

I’m not really that bad though.

Honest.

Anyway, it struck me while I was dusting, that it all makes sense. My Mum’s place is immaculate, and decorated with all manner of vintage accoutrement. Not just decorated, but painstakingly and precisely placed pieces (ahhh alliteration. You make me happy) are throughout the house. But it doesn’t look like a museum or anything. Everything comes together to make a beautiful, warm home with lots of stories and pieces of interest. What this equates to with dusting, however, is that every time I removed some items from a shelf in order to dust, I would place them in EXACTLY the same configuration on a nearby table, so that I could replicate the set-up when I put things back. My Mum has been known to spend over an hour on flower arrangements – I’m not going to mess with that. It’s no wonder that I’m following in her footsteps.

The trip back to Tassie was fairly unexciting. It involved a car trip, 2 train trips, 2 plane trips, and another car trip. It went for about 10 hours, and made my brain melt a little bit.

Mum's place #5

On my second flight (from Melbourne to Tassie), as we were preparing to land, I looked at the guy sitting across from me. And wondered, “Is he?... No, he can’t be.” I tried to keep reading, but had to sneak a look at him again. “Holy crap… He’s praying.”

We're all going to die.

Goodbye, Old Friend

Well. What an eventful week. That I didn’t *ahem* get a chance to blog during. The lack of blogging has absolutely nothing to do with laziness…

Firstly, I would like to acknowledge the removal of one of my piercings. It’s all very sad. I had a dermal piercing on my sternum that I’d had for over 2 years, and over the past few weeks it has been making itself known and growing out. I finally reached the difficult decision during the week to have it removed. I hate having piercings taken out – it feels like the death of a friend (albeit slightly less dramatic). One of those friends that are really cool to be around, occasionally irritate the hell out of you, but are always there – whether they’re hidden or not. And now I’m in mourning for my friend. Have I taken this analogy too far? Perhaps.

And what an adventure it ended up being to have it removed. After about 5 phone calls I found out that they don’t even DO dermal piercings in Burnie (which panicked me a bit… where am I going to go for my next piercing???), so I had to go to the doctor, wait there for half an hour, then be referred to the skin clinic. Where I waited for about an hour, and was then put through a few minutes of quite intense pain. But it’s ok – I’m tough. No, really. I am.

My Friday consisted of breaking into a building with bolt cutters, restraining an angry cat, and being a barmaid. All while doing volunteer work for the RSPCA. While I was using the bolt cutters I had to cut through a padlock, which is actually not the easiest feat. Considering that they’re made so that that can’t happen. But anyway, once my muscular, strongwoman-esque task was finished, I was standing there in my grey sweater with the hood up, rain drizzling down, and I got the Rocky theme song stuck in my head. I may have also jumped around with my arms above my head.

And today we went out to Table Cape to check out the tulip farm there. I am, admittedly, not much of a gardening person, although I do have the enviable skill of killing plants with just a glance. Even without an avid horticultural interest, it was still pretty rad. Lots of tulips (funnily enough).

Recreational outings aside, I have managed to also get some crafting done during the week. I’ve done a layout on the photos of Michelle and I twirling, because we’re just so damned cute. Stop laughing – you know it’s true. I’ve used the lovely The Girls Paperie “Paper Girl” range. I just looooove the paper with the cabbage flowers on it. I’ve also used a cute Jodie Butler flower that I picked up a while ago – she makes the best floral goodies.

The second layout is of my brother and I on a carousel when we were just youngin’s. I’ve used the Fancy Pants “Road Show” range. And another Jodie Butler flower. The book page is from a Golden Book. I was sure that while I was ripping the page from the Golden Book I was going to be struck down by lightning – it’s one of the cardinal sins isn’t it? The blue circle behind the title is actually a coaster that I bought at an op-shop a few months ago. I knew it’d come in handy sometime.