The very random adventures of a psychology student, geeklet and all-round dork.


View My Guestbook
Sign My Guestbook

 

No-one's left to stop you now

So I've managed to go all weekend without the promised update again, haven't I. The truth is that I spent most of the weekend simultaneously feeling as though I had taken a hard smack in the nose and acquired a tough cold. While I feel better now, my septum currently seems a bit more swollen than it should be, though the regular aftercare instructions once again seem to be the main culprit. It may just be time to leave the poor thing alone as much as possible, and let an overdeveloped immune system do the rest of the work.

A bunch of interesting and cool things happened this week beside the bodyart, though. Perhaps most notably, I got to see one of my dearest and oldest friends for the first time since his less-than-voluntary removal from the convent he joined directly after high school six years ago. He's undoubtedly one of the most brilliant people I know, and one of very few whose religion goes beyond habit or conforming to social expectations. While I spent years convincing him to diversify into the natural sciences, his "other" field of excellence, I was always deeply impressed and awed by his commitment to his cause, no matter how much I disagreed with him on it. Well, apparently his commitment and dedication, combined with a distinct reluctance to submit to authority for the tired excuse of having to walk the road most traveled, were exactly what got him out of the place. His exit from the order was a very recent and sudden development, and his future seemed very uncertain the last time we talked.

When I saw him this week, the picture was markedly different: He is preparing for several teaching positions, including one as a lecturer in theology, and planning additional university studies while working on his doctorate thesis in theology. Simply put, the friend I saw appeared a happier, more balanced, stronger man than I have seen him in the past six years; it is obvious that he landed on his feet in a tough situation, he's making things happen now that his order's need for mediocrity and conformity would never allow for, and he's finally seeing his work and himself being appreciated rather than suppressed by the people around him. I witness this with the same sense of relief that comes with watching a friend leave any ultimately abusive and unhappy relationship behind them. I know he has learned from the experience, and I know he's going to accomplish great things. I think he's getting close to realizing that people care about and admire him, too. Which might be the better part of it.
posted by Godiva at 5:39 PM

 

Redefinition

As I type this, there are tears in my eyes. And I'm a very happy woman, if one whose eyes are probably going to well up every time she tries to blow her nose for a while yet.

Yes, you guessed it - it's time for another entry about body modification! Please wait for the regular-life update tomorrow or Saturday if you'd like to skip the gory bits.

Getting a septum pierced is nothing if not an intense experience. The sheer absurdity of gloved fingers and rolls of gauze with disinfectant being shoved up my nostrils actually made me laugh pretty hard. (I want a t-shirt that says, "Septum piercings *tickle*.") Laid out with a forceps up my nose and a tray with a very large needle set up comfortably on my stomach, I admit that I cursed my big mouth - what I call the "Why the hell am I here?" moment - a lot more than usual. The piercing itself, while painful, wasn't as bad as I expected from others' accounts - insertion and care was. I was prepared for the brief white flash of pain of piercing, but removing the forceps, inserting the curved barbell and cleaning everything up very nearly made me cry. It doesn't help that strong pressure or pain in your nose makes your eyes well up instantly - there were tears running down my face to my ears, and I was very close to wanting to hit the next person who would touch my face. I've been pierced fourteen times (including my first, retired lobe piercings) and up until now there was no piercing I wouldn't do a second time if I lost it. Well, I think I've met my match. And yes, I know this opinion will last, oh, probably all the way till tomorrow morning.

The bad (yet good) part here, of course, is that this piercing is almost invisible. I've fidgeted with handheld mirrors and pointed cameras up my nose, and the curved barbell is still hard to make out. The placement, I think, is excellent even if it's not perfectly straight - anything better would have involved surgically resetting my creatively shaped nose. Cleaning is going to require more inventive originality.

Despite the amount of pain that is so far unparalleled by my previous experiences, and despite the fact that I'm not going to see this piercing much for at least another month, I'm very happy I did this. It required jumping over my shadow and firmly shaking some people's idea of who I'm supposed to be or how far I'm supposed to go. Having it feels very oddly right. I'll be happy to shed some more tears for that.

posted by Godiva at 5:48 PM

 

Don't try this at home

You know those times when you look out the window, think, "Looks nice enough", and go out wearing a T-shirt and sandals? Well, it figures that by the time you are far enough from home to contemplate going back, you will be caught in a torrent. Now, I love summer rain more than most (and even hail is kinda cool), but spending three hours in a basement psychometrics lab takes a surreal turn when you're absolutely drenched. I'm not talking a bit damp but "so damn wet you could drive people from the room by shaking your head".

It was fun.

Of course, by the time class ended not only was it still raining, but the temperature had dropped from 28°C or so to around 15°C. Extra points here for damp clothes and sandals. I'm counting on a snuggly oversized UCSB sweater, vanilla flavored tea and my amazing immune system. Serious colds are a bit like pon'farr to me both in frequency of incidence, and in pleasance to all involved.

Yet another body mod update below, not for the queasy

It's been four weeks since my last piercing, so I went to see Gerald for the aftercare checkup yesterday. After changing and replacing my increasingly complex configurations of jewelry and chatting about his cats and his plans to open his own studio later this month, I finally plucked up the courage to ask him about septum piercings - a mod I've found myself simultaneously fascinated and frightened by for the past ten years. His answer was so encouraging that I only walked out without one because doing otherwise would have felt greedy. I'm going to settle for doing some more research for a few weeks and paying Gerald a visit once his new studio is open.

I never forgot the first time I saw a real-life septum piercing on a seriously modded London kid in the early 90's. He was wearing 2-inch tusks in it for full effect, and teenage small-town me was just baffled in a "How does that work?" kind of way. I guess I always felt more strongly about the septum than any other piercing - the connotations of tribalism and slavery (in the case of rings) felt odd to me for a long time. At the same time, I always considered it a serious, proud, no-nonsense mod.

As I started considering facial mods, oft-doomed eyebrow piercings, ubiquitous nostrils and labrets never seemed worth the hassle in a number of ways. All three are largely non-concealable (and I hate to say this, but this can be a factor even in the more progressive world of human resources management), have a worrying tendency to look overly cutesy and girly unless used in ways that my job would never allow, and generally just seem like mission impossible on a face that gets accidentally smacked, scratched and slept on as often as mine does. It still took me a long while and a tongue piercing to overcome my queasiness about facial mods even after the realization that septum piercings just made my jaw drop and triggered the "me want" reflex like nothing else. It's still a serious and extremely meaningful mod to me, and I realize its potential for being painful and slow-healing if placed in the hard cartilage further up the septum. Then again, Gerald kicks seventy shades of ass - I might be hard pressed to let someone else stick bloody big needles through my nose. As it is, my modifications are a very happy work in progress, and I'm very excited about this next step.

posted by Godiva at 3:17 PM

 

Don't close your eyes

For the past two weeks or so, my job has been walking the fine line between stressful and downright insane. Over the past week in particular, I've been so productive I've been getting all giddy over it. I'm also going to be spending what looks like a major portion of the weekend doing contracting work for my company. Hopefully this current productivity rush will last beyond the deadline this coming Wednesday: My thesis could use it.

Odd topic of the week: Fathers. My dad - an aggressively healthy man in his early sixties - was recently discovered to have heart problems of as yet undeclared severity. He's been seeing doctors who all agree that, while his condition is not threatening at this time, there will be more examinations and possibly some minor surgery "just to make sure". Well, he's worried. I'm terrified. Very probably much more than the situation justifies. Having thought of myself as pretty immune to "daddy daddy" neuroses and the worship of fathers as some sort of ultimate men all my life, I hereby insert my foot firmly into my mouth. It seems like this sort of stuff just isn't supposed to happen to our fathers, even and especially if we're aware of their shortcomings and weaknesses. Even more so if we're as aware of our parents' mortality as I am.

I realize that throughout my childhood and even before that, my mother had a way of falling extremely ill in one way or another, seemingly just scraping by narrowly. My dad, on the other hand, had a way of recovering much more easily from just about anything than anyone reasonably should. (I've always attributed my hyperactive immune system to his genes.) I hope he's as good at that as I think he is.

posted by Godiva at 4:46 PM

 

Everything you know is wrong

Ever have one of those days that left you wondering whoever dreamed up the idea that humans as a species were capable of maintaining an honest relationship any longer than it takes them to complete the initial bonk or three? Yeah, exactly. I now get to cover for another friend whose man thinks she just spent two days studying with me, and no, I didn't get a choice in the matter. Did I mention how I wish people managed to be honest with themselves if not each other?

For my own future I just want one thing: Good enough friends that they will smack me in the face and call me on it when everyone but me can clearly see that I'm full of shit.

posted by Godiva at 6:15 PM