rev:text
| - This is a sad little story about a young spirited 21 year old me.
I had finally lost that horrid freshman 15 (or 30, but who's counting) and felt like I needed some pizazz in my life....or shall we say on my body. So naturally I decided the right thing to do was get a belly button ring. Hey, everyone was doing it. I was 21, not 16, mind you. Maybe I should have realized my window of prancing around with a belly button laden with jewels was quickly growing smaller.
I actually LOVED piercings! I had 9 in my ears and had always wanted an eyebrow ring when that was the fad. So this just seemed like the next logical step. No taking in and out, it was there to stay....or so I thought!
The piercing was a total breeze and I ran out to look at my beautiful little belly button ring and realized...dun dun dun...it was pierced crooked! And not just tiny bit off, but it literally hung to one side. At the time I was too nice to say anything ,as I was raging on the inside. I just skipped out of there with my friends, silently cursing the dude who pierced me.
Over the next couple months I kept telling myself that it wasn't crooked. I would always try to move the ring over to the other side. So then only a couple months later (avert your eyes if you're squeamish folks) the hole tore and got infected. I went back and they took out the ring and my youth was, in an instant, taken away from me.
Ok, I lied in that last part, I still think I'm 21. But I was pissed my days of showing off by bedazzled belly button had to end that way! I guess it's for the best (sigh) since my belly button doesn't see much light these days.
So there ends my tale of woe, beware my friends of the crooked piercer!
|