Mmm, winning... (and also, poking holes in oneself)
(Sorry about actual RL blogging, but important stuff has happened, and blank Internet space is an excellent place to squee/vent/bitch where no one who knows you can make fun of you afterwards.)
First of all, I feel it is appropriate to chronicle somewhere other than a comment that I won NaNoWriMo. Barely. I was behind all month, and until Thanksgiving almost convinced I was going to lose, but then several things happened that gave me a swift kick in the pants: One, nothing went my way on Thanksgiving. I don't expect to get my way every time I want something, as I am not born of filthy rich parents who feel bad about abandoning me for their jobs, but I do expect to get the single most important thing I want out of a break, particularly when it is very simple, attainable, and under my control.
You see, I wanted one single day all to myself, alone, with nobody else in the house. Since I was going to be cat sitting, this was not unreasonable. Unfortunately, I'm an idiot when it comes to dates, timing, and remembering things. Had I actually had to go home a day early and not gotten what I wanted, it would have been fine--but I could have had it. Bad planning, which was entirely my fault, stripped me of the one thing I wanted out of break. This, on top of the disappointing realization that I can't have a nice Thanksgiving if it's split in two, and not getting to see my man very much or my lady at all, and the myriad of terrible movies I was forced to watch that week, all added up to make me a sad panda. I know it's ridiculous reasons, but it sure made me feel bad, and I decided that I had to finish NaNoWriMo if it was the last thing I did. If I won, it would make up for everything else that happened in November.
So everything's okay and I feel dumb for feeling so bad about all those little things. I really need to stop taking things so seriously.
In other news, I got holes poked in myself on Saturday! I've been wanting a Christina piercing for years, but I haven't thought about it since I turned 18. Well, on Saturday my roommate went with one of her co-workers to a piercing parlor to get the co-worker's tragus and the roommate's cartilage and navel pierced. I went along as moral support, but watching them get metal rods jammed through their skin, I remembered the Christina ideas from way back when I was sixteen and completely in love with body modification.
Now, the Christina is a very financially risky piercing, since it is surface piercing (expensive) in a movement- and sometimes attention-high location, and is thus very likely to be rejected. I wasn't going to get it for that reason, but somehow the adrenaline of thinking about it, asking questions, and watching my friends get pierced caught up with me, and I justified it by pretending I'm an adult (college students aren't adults in my book, whatever the law says). (Also, I learned that you can put navel jewelry in them when they're healed, and seriously? Sparkly dangley things making mysterious, exotic prettiness out of my vulva? DO WANT.)
The piercer was very professional, and it definitely soothed my nerves that I had already seen her pierce my friends and approved of her technique/cleanliness. All I was worried about was not being suited for the piercing; if you don't have enough flesh where your labia majora meet at the mons venerus, this piercing doesn't work. Once I've invited someone to poke around my vulva I'm pretty much okay with it, so I wasn't worried about awkwardness, and pain--I mean, I was going to get holes punched in my pubic mound. It was going to hurt. But I've crashed onto the ground from a spinning leap directly onto my knee, watched my thumb swell up to the size of a pickle after being whacked repeatedly with a sword (and kept fighting), and cut a quarter of an inch into the webbing between my thumb and forefinger. It was not going to hurt worse than all that.
I was right. It hurt a lot, but the AWESOME, NEEDLES feeling was a lot stronger (needles feel really cool, when you're not so scared of pain you can't pay attention), and then the jewelry was in and it stopped hurting. Sort of. Since it's so deep it's bruising pretty bad (I took pictures this afternoon and my first reaction was OH DEAR THAT'S AWFULLY PURPLE, but then I looked it up and that's common with Christinas [considering my extensive research beforehand, why did I miss this?]), so it feels like I got kicked by a fairy horse right there, but as long as the piercing isn't in danger, it's completely worth it. My longsword bruises hurt worse for longer, and without the reward, so no problem.
Looks great so far, though I'm worried the bar might be too short. I read that they're supposed to be a little longer to account for swelling, but I'm not going to get concerned unless my skin starts swallowing the balls. Or it starts migrating. That would make me sad.
First of all, I feel it is appropriate to chronicle somewhere other than a comment that I won NaNoWriMo. Barely. I was behind all month, and until Thanksgiving almost convinced I was going to lose, but then several things happened that gave me a swift kick in the pants: One, nothing went my way on Thanksgiving. I don't expect to get my way every time I want something, as I am not born of filthy rich parents who feel bad about abandoning me for their jobs, but I do expect to get the single most important thing I want out of a break, particularly when it is very simple, attainable, and under my control.
You see, I wanted one single day all to myself, alone, with nobody else in the house. Since I was going to be cat sitting, this was not unreasonable. Unfortunately, I'm an idiot when it comes to dates, timing, and remembering things. Had I actually had to go home a day early and not gotten what I wanted, it would have been fine--but I could have had it. Bad planning, which was entirely my fault, stripped me of the one thing I wanted out of break. This, on top of the disappointing realization that I can't have a nice Thanksgiving if it's split in two, and not getting to see my man very much or my lady at all, and the myriad of terrible movies I was forced to watch that week, all added up to make me a sad panda. I know it's ridiculous reasons, but it sure made me feel bad, and I decided that I had to finish NaNoWriMo if it was the last thing I did. If I won, it would make up for everything else that happened in November.
So everything's okay and I feel dumb for feeling so bad about all those little things. I really need to stop taking things so seriously.
In other news, I got holes poked in myself on Saturday! I've been wanting a Christina piercing for years, but I haven't thought about it since I turned 18. Well, on Saturday my roommate went with one of her co-workers to a piercing parlor to get the co-worker's tragus and the roommate's cartilage and navel pierced. I went along as moral support, but watching them get metal rods jammed through their skin, I remembered the Christina ideas from way back when I was sixteen and completely in love with body modification.
Now, the Christina is a very financially risky piercing, since it is surface piercing (expensive) in a movement- and sometimes attention-high location, and is thus very likely to be rejected. I wasn't going to get it for that reason, but somehow the adrenaline of thinking about it, asking questions, and watching my friends get pierced caught up with me, and I justified it by pretending I'm an adult (college students aren't adults in my book, whatever the law says). (Also, I learned that you can put navel jewelry in them when they're healed, and seriously? Sparkly dangley things making mysterious, exotic prettiness out of my vulva? DO WANT.)
The piercer was very professional, and it definitely soothed my nerves that I had already seen her pierce my friends and approved of her technique/cleanliness. All I was worried about was not being suited for the piercing; if you don't have enough flesh where your labia majora meet at the mons venerus, this piercing doesn't work. Once I've invited someone to poke around my vulva I'm pretty much okay with it, so I wasn't worried about awkwardness, and pain--I mean, I was going to get holes punched in my pubic mound. It was going to hurt. But I've crashed onto the ground from a spinning leap directly onto my knee, watched my thumb swell up to the size of a pickle after being whacked repeatedly with a sword (and kept fighting), and cut a quarter of an inch into the webbing between my thumb and forefinger. It was not going to hurt worse than all that.
I was right. It hurt a lot, but the AWESOME, NEEDLES feeling was a lot stronger (needles feel really cool, when you're not so scared of pain you can't pay attention), and then the jewelry was in and it stopped hurting. Sort of. Since it's so deep it's bruising pretty bad (I took pictures this afternoon and my first reaction was OH DEAR THAT'S AWFULLY PURPLE, but then I looked it up and that's common with Christinas [considering my extensive research beforehand, why did I miss this?]), so it feels like I got kicked by a fairy horse right there, but as long as the piercing isn't in danger, it's completely worth it. My longsword bruises hurt worse for longer, and without the reward, so no problem.
Looks great so far, though I'm worried the bar might be too short. I read that they're supposed to be a little longer to account for swelling, but I'm not going to get concerned unless my skin starts swallowing the balls. Or it starts migrating. That would make me sad.