On Metal, and where to stick it.

Weight was gained by me. Not a lot of it, and not unappreciated at that, but gained nonetheless. The weight in question is attributable to a small, light blue and very fake gemstone, set in a metal bar.
This bar, then, now resides jammed in the curve of my right ear.

I, of reasonably sound mind and soon to be desecrated (some more) body, had decided to get my ear pierced. A plan I had been running around with for a while now, but finally decided needed to come to fruition.
A bout of internetty research and suchlike taught me about the pros and cons, as well as some of the hygienic consequences of having a piece of metal forcefully injected in a part of ones body. A talk with the multipiercedness that is Housemate taught me of how to gauge the relative painfulness and some of the techniques used as seen from a receptive perspective. Last but not at all least where the talks with Boyfriend about whether it might be a tremendously bad idea.

All these things together, but surely most the input of Housemate and Boyfriend, combined with a last-moment coin-toss made me reasonably sure of my intent here. There was a piece of metal out there with my name on it, so to speak.

The internetty research continued then, after all, like having a tattoo set, you want this done by people you at least trust well enough to handle your body in a very intimate way, and in a place you can walk into without feeling scared or apprehensive. A calm mind and body after all are very conductive to a pleasant experience, in as much as it is possible when somebody is going to insert a foreign object in a place on you.

But I found a place. Dare2wear. (www.dare2wear.info, not quite sure if I am right to point you towards it here, but hey, good word of mouth is good word of mouth after all) What drew me to these people first of all was the amount of information they had on their site about the process, which I highly appreciated. I also liked the style of jewellery they import and have available. Calling them for more information landed me on their answering machine and the voice on it was very nice, which really cemented me in my choice.
So off I went, accompanied by the magnificence that is Boyfriend (Who is making me breakfast as I type this… I gush…) who had very kindly offered to advance me the money needed for this undertaking as my salary had not been actually arrived in my accounts and I am very much a “decision made, action NOW” person.

Arriving at a close door in first instance, as they proprietress of the store had stepped out for a few minutes. In all fairness, a good thing. As this was my first piercing I was rather nervous, had completely neglected to eat anything of any substance, and needed to pee like there was no tomorrow. Also, Boyfriend still needed to get me the promised money or at least have it in is wallet so I could feel like a good kept boy. So, anyways, having ingested an apple, a snickers bar and having had no pee whatsoever, we tried the store again, and it was open now.

A small store, with jewellery on the walls and in display cabinets. There was a girl in before me getting something pierced as well, and the general demeanour and outlook of the person doing the piercing was again very reassuring, moving around her tools with reference and explaining what she was doing very well. I was not sorry I chose this place. And am still not, at this point in time, all be it only a day after the fact.
So, the way cleared before me to get my poor ear hurt beyond all hurt it has ever experienced, I discussed my intentions with the women going to do the hurting. She was very advisory about different options before me, ring or bar, and the healing properties and likelihoods of both. Deciding on a bar, providing it could be sparkly, I signed the documentation and wavers stating I knew roughly what I was doing, and sat down to pick a colour of my sparkly bit.

I picked a dark red ball, my hair was pinned out of the way and selected from the tray of tools was a wooden toothpick. I must have looked momentarily frightened, as a swift explanation was given about the toothpick, namely that is was to be used to mark the spot where the needle was eventually going to pierce the pristine delicacy of my cartilage. Marked, disinfected and ready I awaited the needle.

Taking care of my breathing, explaining all that she was doing, the good person ready to insert a new hole on my body picked up her needle and put it against my ear, then swiftly putting it through a couple of layers of skin and bone.

I am not going to pretend it didn’t hurt, because it did. I am going to try to give you a sort of situational ketch of where I would place the hurt, roughly indicated by the response given to a hurt, in a sort of rough list.
· Banging your head on a kitchen cabinet: “AuCRAPDAMMITFOCKINGKITCHENTHIGNAUAUAU…*teary eyed*Au…crap.. mutter… au.
· Cutting your finger: “Au..Au.. AUAUAUAUAUAUAUFUCKAUDAMMITAUUUUAUITELLSYAAU..AU…au…”
· Getting pierced: „AU!auw..auw..auw..auw..“
· Getting a scraped knee: „Shhhhhhh.... Crap. Au.
· Getting tattoo’d: Hmmm, this is ok, this is ok, this is ok, this is ok, this is UNPLEASANT…UNPLEASANT….UNPLEASANT…Oh, this is ok again, this is ok..”
So as can be seen above, I would rate getting pierced at roughly halfway through the list of “things that hurt” as far as hurting is considered.

Anyways, out goes the needle, in goes the little bar, and on should have gone the sparkly bit.
One good/bad thing here was the fact that the little red sparkly bit that was supposed to go on the end of the little bar in my ear wasn’t designed to do just that. It was designed to go on a ring. But I have no ring in my ear at this point, I have a bar. The mortified piercer starts going through her box o’ sparkly bits, and I along with her, selecting ones that have all seemed to have suddenly lost their holes. Now lest this smacks of unproffessionality, not checking in advance, I have to say I actually really appreciated this time. It took my mind off the piece of metal in my ear, and I had very little difficulty relaxing and moving on in the situation, and it was clearly not the fault of the piercer.
I decided that another colour was just as well for me, after all, I am planning to amass a collection of piercings, and I could (and very likely will) always go back to retry getting my dark red body enhancement. So a sparkly blue was selected, screwed unto my new airport detector issue. (typing this I suddenly realise I have to fly to Munich in a week and this thing is not supposed to go out for the next two months or so… Interesting. Well, it will not be a problem)

Anyways, bar and ball firmly in their bleeding place, my hair was let loose again and immediately covered this new unbalance of my body. This was designed to happen, as I am not about to cut my hair anytime soon and the piercing was and is supposed to be only seen every now and then when I sweep my hair back. (those who know me know I do this all the time, but hey, a boy has to have it’s pretence of discretion) But it still felt like kind of a shame to cover it straight away. Another customer suggested I could just get a really long bar, but I decided the Madonna look would never really be mine.
Anyways, the hair also kept prying eyes of the fact I had a very bloody ear. Well, slightly bloody, but for an ear that has never been bloody since the midwife washed it clean, it feels like a lot of blood. I did decide to not wash the blood off straight away, but to give the piercing and the wound around it some time to get used to each other, and the skin some time to close around the metal stranger. This might not be everybody’s, but I am happy with this tack, sure, I had a bloody ear the rest of the night, but this morning there is little or no swelling and almost no pain, and it feels clean, so to speak, even though I am not touching the piercing yet. About to go shower, so I might add something to this blog about excrutiating pain sometime soon.

So I am pierced now, a little extra bit of sparkle in my ear, and I am mighty pleased. I would point everyone who decides to do the same to Dare 2 Wear, as my experience with the store was excellent.
I am now off to by some antibacterial soap and one of those plastic light-shades they put over dogs’ heads when they had surgery. Not so much for myself, but my great and wonderful boyfriend (who really poaches a mean egg, must be said) has accidentally brushed, and in some instances actually put his hand right on, my new addition, and since it is still rather sore, this needs to end.

Signing off for now, And stripes at 11001, which config symbolises the now partial imbalance of my face, as the piercing is to the right. Superficially as I am, I picked the right ear because my left eyebrow is better and I didn’t want the right side to feel left out.

Greetings,

Kevin.