Ode to the Third Hole In My Nose

Whoop! Out the window it went!

Last night I was lying on a cot type thing in a nail salon. I was getting my eyebrows waxed as I do every three weeks. As the woman slowly put the wax on and the proceeded to rip the hair out of my skin... something occured to me.

Why then, why there... I dunno.

I no longer enjoyed the fact that I had a nosering. I wanted to be rid of it. Suddenly, very intensely... and definitley. So, on my way home it went flying out the car window.

My mother had implanted the idea a couple months ago but I wasn't thinking of it last night. I just suddenly and unexpectedly thought about how trashy it makes me look or, rather, feel. Probably because it's tied to a period of time in my life that I'm not proud of. Mostly because it's simply not who I am anymore. Time to grow up, in a sense.

I got my nosering ten years ago, leaning over a counter... with a piercing gun (which are incredibly unsanitary, don't ever allow yourself to have one used on you)... for ten dollars by an Asian guy in a store located under the L. I was with my then friend Jessie and we both got it done. When I came home I walked around my house covering the middle of my face with my hand. (I have no idea how long I thought that would work.) My mother screamed when she saw it. Said she's never be seen with me again. And then she screamed about how my father was going to rip it out of my face when he got home. Neither prospect happened. But my friend Jessie did book out of the house, into her car, and down the street due to the intensity of the yelling.

I'm glad to be rid of it. But I am glad I had it. Glad I kept it for as long as I did. But, it's amazing how much freedom one feels when they can wipe their face down with a towel and not have to worry about knocking something out.