Back Before the Blog: My Single Act of Rebellion

The summer after Junior year, about 12 people from my class went to New York for a study tour. I bunked with Deanna, Rosemary and Claire. We stayed in a rather sketch hotel that was about 2 blocks from Time Square. Great touristy location, despite the state of the hotel. I just remember there being absolutely NO ventilation in the bathroom and it being so HOT after getting out of the shower. TMI? Maybe. Moving on.

The roommates after seeing the Yankees play their last year in the old Yankee Stadium.

We spent a week together seeing the sights of New York and some of the awesome design firms, showrooms, and museums and also spent a day at a show that showcases up and coming designers and the new things that people are coming out with that year. That was probably my favorite part. I bought an awesome orange keychain there. When it dies, part of me will go with it.

On the last day, we didn’t have anything scheduled and could just walk around and see whatever we wanted to. So we decided to go to parts of the city that we hadn’t had chance to see. After our day of sight-seeing, we boarded the subway to head back in the direction of our hotel to eat dinner and pack.

While on the subway, Claire looked at Deanna, who has 2 holes in each ear plus her cartilage pierced (this was prior to the nose ring), and declared that she wanted second holes, too. And then I confessed that I also wanted a second hole, but only one. Because while I like to go along with the crowd and do what’s “in,” I like to do it just a little bit differently than everyone else.

So we got off the subway and turned around and went back to where we came from because we had seen a tattoo parlor there.

Before going in, we decided we all needed to go to the McDonalds across the street and got some liquid courage something to drink.

While in there, I had to go to the bathroom. There were only 2 stalls and in the other stall, there was a lady. Going to the Bathroom, if you know what I mean. And grunting. Yes, grunting. And then apologizing to me for grunting. Seriously? What do you say in that situation??? It’s ok? I’m sorry your stomach hurts? Can I get you something? I’m pretty sure I just didn’t say anything because I had NO IDEA what to say.

After I left the Bathroom of Awkwardness, my mom immediately called me because she has a 6th sense of when I’m about to do something she wouldn’t approve of. This happens when I’m out shopping a LOT. I resisted telling her. I didn’t want her try to talk me out of it.

We walked across the street to the tattoo parlor and told them we wanted our ears pierced. The guy led Claire and I back into this little room, past the people getting tattoos. For some reason, they wouldn’t let Rosemary and Deanna come with us.

Since Claire’s dad is a doctor, he had pierced her ears for her. So we had explained to her the gun that they would use. Imagine our surprise when the guy pulls out this looong needle. The needle was hollow in the middle for him to put the earring in and kind of thread it through our ear.

He pierced Claire’s first. He jabbed the needle in her ear and she declared she didn’t even feel it.

Then he did mine. While it didn’t hurt, I definitely felt it.

He also had a diamond imbedded in his arm. I asked him how they did that. Apparently it’s screwed into the top few layers of skin. He tried to convince us to get ones imbedded in our chests like floating necklaces. Claire and I decided to pass.

Here are Claire and I outside of the tattoo parlor where it all went down.

And here’s a close-up of our new bling.

Obviously, I’m pretty non-rebellious. But every time I see it in the mirror or reach up the mess with it, I feel this tiny sense of pride. I love it.

“Rebellion is the only thing that keeps you alive!” -Marianne Faithfull


One Comment on “Back Before the Blog: My Single Act of Rebellion”

  1. […] We watched basketball across the street from where Claire and I got our ears pierced. […]

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s