it's not spray punch punch*

My first piercing, age 3. There are no photos to go with this story, only the story itself. I was a chubby toddler who could probably have been coaxed into jumping off a cliff, had enough ice cream been promised beforehand. My godmother proposed ear-piercing to my mother, who refused to take me (or be a witness) herself. However, she was more than happy to let my godmother (her sister) take me. And as legend has it, all she had to do to get me to permit a total stranger to punch holes in my ears with something she casually referred to as "a gun," was offer me one scoop of ice cream for each successful mutilation. Sold. Two gold studs and two scoops of Baskin-Robbins later, two lifelong loves were born: piercings and chocolate ice cream.

When I was 12 or 13, I got the second set of holes done - and this time, I led my hip but aging godmother to the booth. We got it done together. Unfortunately, the not-so-bright bulb at 14 Karat Plum pierced my right ear so near the edge that any and all earrings look stupid worn on level 2. So I don't wear any.

College - 3rd year I think - my finals were done, I had time on my hands, and so my friend Jessica and I skipped off after work to Paragon to get our navels pierced. I LOVED it. And still do.

Throughout the years between, I did random cartilage piercings in my ears (at Claire's, for the most part) that I got tired of and allowed to close. In 2004 I went to Vegas and got my tragus pierced. In 2006, V and I, on a total whim, schlepped down to Hawaiian Tattoo Co. and walked away in ... pain. It was my most subversive, least-loved, shortest-lived, most talked-about piercing yet. I did like it - quite a lot actually - but decided yesterday that it was time to trade it in for something tamer.

So, there ya go. <-- That is not the finished piercing, obviously (although I have been considering the "Industrial" since grad school). The finished piercing is a "conch" piercing: a cartilage piercing that wraps around that whole lower-ear section. Because Diamond Farrar, the piercer, knew exactly what I wanted in terms of size and material, the end result is very cute. (I don't have pictures to prove this claim. Alas, alack.) And with that, and this, that makes two of us that are done. (Except I'm keeping mine.)

*Anyone who can figure this one out deserves a prize. Unfortunately, I don't have one to give you, but you deserve one anyway.