May 30, 2003

Sometimes, things don't just "happen."
They develop over time, they grow from seeds of ideas and are cultivated by circumstance.
They are born as one thing and mature into something else.

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"Oh, Laura� please don't do that."

That's my mom's typical response when I talk about getting a tattoo. Back in high school, I told her I thought they were cool. Then, however, she had no worries about me getting one, because she knows I am terrified of needles.

I am a complete chicken.

But I'm a chicken who went to college and majored in art and really respects body modifications and thinks tattoos are really cool. In college, I still wanted a tattoo. The reason I didn't get one then was because I know my tastes change. What on earth would I want on me for the rest of my life?

Something Celtic.

That's what I decided after graduating. I have always loved Celtic designs, and I'm pretty sure I always will. I had the design picked out. I knew who I was going to go with to get a tattoo.

And it didn't happen.

Then I met a guy; he has four tattoos. So far. We started dating, and then I thought "I can't get a tattoo now. What if I'm just doing it because now I have friends with tattoos?" I'm not a total sheep, but I can be very influenced by my friends. In high school, college� none of my pals had tatts. Now, several of my current friends do.

I should wait until I know it's right for me.

Tattoos are permanent, and there ain't no way I want to regret getting one. If that means postponing it, even indefinitely, so be it. But wacky hair color is only semi-permanent. So the guy, the one with the four tattoos, the one I was dating. His name is Kris and he does hair. I asked him to give me blue hair.

I loved it.

I changed the blue hair to purple hair, and when that went away, I went pink. Then more pink and back to blue and back to purple. I was counter-culture, and I enjoyed every bit of it.

"I have zero intentions of getting anything pierced."

That's what I told my mom, and I was not lying. Needles, hello? But Kris is really into piercing. He's had a lip ring and an eyebrow piercing, and currently sports a labret and nipple rings. Well, plus two holes in each ear, but do those really count? Even I, chicken extraordinaire, have two holes in each ear. Then I met Ashley.

Her nose is pierced.

Okay, I have long said that if I got anything else pierced, it would be my nose. Somehow, that thought changed to "nose piercings are really cool." And then I met this girl and isn't her little nose stud adorable? She did it herself. Shudder. Well, it's cute, but not for me.

Then Kris asked me to marry him.

Mom will kill me if I have a pierced nose at my wedding; I cannot possibly get it done before May 3. But I can research it. My nose is always itchy or runny or sneezy. Can I tolerate something in there? I buy a fake nose ring and wear it around for an evening. Eh, looks too big and it bothers me. No nose ring for Laura.

I still looked on the 'net.

I found BME. I read about a nostril screw instead of a ring or a stud. Hmm. I read about people's experience getting pierced. I debated the pain. I had managed to get my ears pierced three times each (first holes got infected, closed up). It would be over faster than the pain that lasts after stubbing your toe. I could do this.

After the wedding.

I asked Kris what he thought about nose piercings. "I think they're sexy." Well, I want one, but I can't do it till after the wedding. In fact, I want to get it done on the honeymoon. Great, he says. Then he'll get something, too. These will be our wedding presents to one another. We'll get them on the way home, at the same place that pierced his nipples and his labret.

Am I really gonna do this?

The day arrived. I was nervous all day. I could still back out. I would not back out. I took one of my mom' s Xanax that she let me have for the wedding day jitters. I knew what to expect. They'll ask me to close my eyes. They'll put something in my nose to catch the needle as it comes through. They'll tell me to take a deep breath and when I exhale, it'll happen.

I asked Kris to hold my hand.

Ow, ow, ow. I kept breathing. A big tear welled up and rolled along my eyelashes. I kept my eyes closed. I rubbed my thumb on Kris' hand. She swapped the needle for the jewelry. Deep breaths. It was over.

I did it. I got my nose pierced.

I am proud of it.

I love it.


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