|Because when you're rolling, roll with it or be mown down
||[Jul. 9th, 2009|01:18 pm]
Earlier today a co-worker came around the corner and scared me. And as some of you know, my Indian name would be "Startles Easily". So I said "Ack, Tom, you almost made me scream." And he said "Been a while since a man made you scream, huh?" And I said, pointedly looking at the nonexistent watch on my wrist "Well, about 12 hours." |
Hey. He started it.
You will all be so proud of me. I am actually wearing a pair of earrings. And not the rings put in by the guy who made the holes. I spent last weekend with the parents up in Connecticut and I had to think of activities I could do with Mom. Mom loves to shop. So do I. The difference is, I like to shop for food, home improvement items, office supplies, Halloween stuff and sex toys. Mom likes more traditional things like clothing, shoes and jewelry. This can be a problem.
But hey, I'd had my starter earrings in long enough and I thought -- perfect! It's really time for me to branch out. I got my ears re-pierced about six months ago and have been afraid to take out the surgical steel starter rings. When I was younger, I fought like a dog to get my ears pierced. I finally did it and after six months, wound up with swollen, crusty, itchy infected ears. No matter what I did. Months of recriminations, with my mother and the doctor accusing me of poor hygiene and I finally said "screw it" and never wore them again. Later, we found out that I was just severely allergic to metal. Not just nickel, but everything. Years and years of non-adornment, except for pins.
But a couple of years ago, I tried wearing rings again. And hey, 90% of the time, that's okay. Then I got brave and tried necklaces. Hmmph. Usually okay, especially if I coat suspect metals with clear nail polish and try not to sweat too much. Watchbands with a buckle are still out, as are most bracelets. But I thought...well, let's try the ears again. All of my female friends wear fabulous earrings and I am in a constant state of jealousy. Or is that arousal? Well, THAT'S a different post.
Surgical steel for six months. Check. (In case you're thinking, duh, Mere, no one's allergic to surgical steel...let me show you my hernia scar. Probably psychological, but let me tell you the difference between an externally induced rash and an internally induced rash...uh, they both itch like hell. And knowing there's no good reason to have a rash? Ah, feeling like an idiot is even itchier.
So, I've made the leap and am wearing gold hoops. I thought it was a great triple project -- a shopping that Mom and I could do together, ensuring that I'll get a birthday present from her that I won't feel conflicted about returning AND I'd be able to wear something different.
We'll see how it goes. They've been fine for three days, but of course, because I'm talking about them, my ear lobes now feel...heated. I am conscious of the metal in my ear.
Damn it. That is NOT an itch.
I had a class once where the object was to increase blood flow to a targeted point in your body. It was an offshoot of a theater class and the goal was to increase blood flow to your mask (throat, mouth, sinus cavity) so that you could get more volume, more echo. Some of my female friends have already taken this to the next step, and yes. It's a lovely skill.
However, like everything, there's a downside -- because now that I'm thinking about my earlobes, they are ON FIRE.
I will distract myself. And you (are you really paying attention still? I know, I haven't been posting and you're waiting, waiting for the funny). See, my starter earrings are those rings with the little ball in the middle. And you pop out the ball to create the opening so you can get the little you-know-whats off your ears.
That is the smallest, slipperiest set of balls I have ever seen. And I have castrated lambs.
(Sorry. You're not eating lunch are you?)
Seriously, I chased those son of a bitches all around the house. Earrings, my ass. They are a cruel joke made to drive people with large fingers, poor near vision and an appalling lack of depth perception, CRAZY.
I still can't get one of the earrings put back together. I feel like I need to go back to the piercing parlor and give that guy another tip. Maybe I didn't look closely enough at his hands. Surely his fingertips had to be chopstick width!
Pah. I had better not react to these earrings, that's all I can say, or I'm going to go back to Mr. Chopstick Finger, have him put the originals back in and never, ever change them again.