belly


		The Naval Mission...

Today, Lizzybeth and I had a mission. We were off to get my bellybutton pierced. So I've only been wanting to do this for, umm, foever, but circumstances and parents and something else I really don't remember right now (it's nearly 4 am, bear with me people) stood in the way...until today. After her 2 o'clock class, he head out to Oak Street parking lot to find Lizzy's car. Now, this in itself could be a mission because, as much as I love you ho, Lizzy can never, ever, ever find her car after she parked it. Never. But finally it appeared and we set out to find Ashley Street an dthe tattoo parlor. Ashley Street, for my non-Valdosta readers, is parallel to Patterson Street, the main street campus is on. Most normal people would just cut across to Ashley by means of College Street, or Park Avenue, or one of the 17 other, closer streets that run perpindicular to the two...but Elizabeth knows that Ashley Street connects to Patterson...somewhere...and that's the way we go. Six miles and most of our gas later, we find the old directions in her glove compartment that take us to Ashley off of Northside, waaaaaay past the hospital. But we go, we have to find Ink Jammers. Now, this next part is probably partly my fault, because when I called them for directions, the most I got was "we're off Ashley Street, across from the Valdosta Carwash." But I won't take all of the blame...thanks for calling me back Walker, weren't you supposed to take me? Or at least draw a map? Anyway, we turn left on Ashley and head even farther away from the shop. We're never going to get there...but never say never my friend, becasue after turning around twice more, we park in between 2 Harley's and walk inside. "Hey, I want to get my belly pierced." -Caragh "Sure, come back at 7." -Tattoo man Now, FYI, even though we got lost 8 times, it's still before 4 pm...7 is a loooooong time away! So I just start asking the man a few questions, and big shock they won't pierce me with a banana bar. Who wants a silly ring coming out of their stomach? They say another tattoo place down the road will do the bar, so we bid them good day and venture off once more. But we get in the wrong lane. So after turning around, again, we go into the bigger fancier tattoo parlor. And we meet IT...this dreadlocked thing had spikes coming out everywhere, literally. I didn't even listen to his speech on the unhygenicness of piercing with a bar, I was fixated on teh 3 inch long things protruding from his neck and the silver points garnishing the bridge of his nose. We left there very fast, with promises to return soon...umm, whatever. We failed our mission, Caragh is still less a new hole in the center of her body, so I force Lizzybeth to do her homework and eat dinner at Palms (with $6.78 in your bank account, there aren't alot of other choices babe) and think about the idea of a ring in my stomach. Not a nice silver bar, but a circular hoop, that pops out of tight shirts and gets caught in things...could I live with it for a few weeks? Survey says...yes! So when Lizzy finished her paper at 11 pm, we set off once more, in our PJs, to get me pierced. Now, I will promise you that when I read the sign on their door, it said they were open from noon until midnight, but after a slightly shorter trip down Ashley, we pull in front of the door to see "Hours 12 to 10 pm". Once again, I have failed at getting pierced. This was 3 tries in one day, could anyone have worse luck than me? So I head off to the weekend with plans of visiting Psycho Tattoo, but seeing as all of this today was for some special reason (Lizzy claims), I'm just not sure what will realy happen there. Maybe we'll discover that there's just not enough skin to clamp, or that you really must be 18 and 10 months and I'm a few days shy...no one knows. But if you see me again soon, feel free to check the belly for some bling bling. If nothing else, someone once sold their belly button lint on Ebay for $1...I could always collect that while I wait and be helping the economy!


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