This would be the BEFORE picture
I got high just one time while in college and that was only after I called The Pre-Husband to make sure he wouldn’t hate me in the morning for satisfying my curiosity. He laughed at me and told me I was adorable for asking permission to smoke pot and I was all I’m not asking for permission you chauvinistic asshole. I make my own decisions. I just wanted to make sure you happened to be okay with this one. Totally not the same thing. That’s when The Pre-Husband laughed again because, he said, what I just said was pretty much the very definition of asking for permission and that he thought it was sweet I was so concerned about what he thought of me and my partaking of illegal substances.
You still didn’t answer my question, I said.
Go ahead, he told me. Just don’t drive anywhere.
After he hung up and before I took my first hit, I admit that the thought of calling my mother and running this whole me and this joint thing by her before I fully committed to that evening’s activities. And then maybe my best friend. That’s right about the time I realized that concern over What Other People Think accounts for entirely too much of the time I devote to contemplating life and Other Important Things (like what I was going to wear tomorrow), and I inhaled. Depending on what your definition of is actually is, anyway.
The moral of this story, kids, is that while Drugs Are Bad Bad Bad and I am Not Condoning or Promoting Illegal Behaviors Because That Would Just Be Irresponsible, I am condoning and promoting freeing ourselves from putting too much stock in Other People’s Opinions because that whole thought process just takes too much work.
Take, for instance, a recent instant message from BFF Mel.
Want to get our noses pierced when you come to visit?
HELL YES my instant response. We’ve been going back and forth on the idea of a teeny little stud for about five years now but have never even gone as far as pricing the procedure or looking up where to go to get it done. Excuses have always been easy to come by and with her work schedule and my constant over-thinking about the riot act my aunts would read me for putting another hole in my head, it only made sense to go for it during our trip back to Detroit. She had a day off and I had finally reached the point of not really giving a shit who might get pissy if I decided to have some fun. So the timing was right.
We landed in Detroit last Tuesday and met up with BFF Mel and her husband, Bob on Friday. After BFF Mel scared herself shitless by looking up YouTube videos on nasal piercings, Bob and The Husband took the initiative, started the car, and dropped us of at Eternal Tattoos. We had an appointment with a woman named Sam.
Sam is the piercing professional at Eternal Tattoos in EastPointe, Michigan. And when I say professional I mean it because not everyone can answer questions on the phone about piercing penises while immature assholes like me try not to laugh and get all superior because I'm subjecting myself to public scrutiny with a piercing I can't hide in my pants, which obviously makes my nose stud more badass than that extra hole in your nethers.
BFF Mel has to go first or she’s going to back out because she’s an idiot and YouTube is evil. That’s what I said first and then maybe I introduced myself.
Sam nodded. Bff Mel giggled because she does that a lot. And I took pictures while Sam talked BFF Mel out of the clear crystal stud she had come in for and into a light purple that Sam was sure would look fabulous on her. And then it was done and BFF Mel looked fabulous and Sam breathlessly awaited her client’s reaction and BFF Mel scrunched up her nose and looked into the mirror and said I dunno…what do you think? It looks bigger and more noticeable than I had imagined.
Seriously...does it look okay?
You look incredible I said. And that purple is perfect I said. And now it’s my turn so move so I can sit down I said.
Sam nodded. BFF Mel giggled because she does that a lot. And then she took pictures while Sam talked me out of the clear crystal stud I had come in for and into a pretty blue that Sam was sure would look fabulous on me. And then it was done and BFF Mel said I looked fabulous and Sam breathlessly awaited my response and I scrunched up my nose and looked into the mirror and said I dunno…what do you think?It looks bigger and more noticeable than I had imagined. But yours looks perfect I told BFF Mel.
Because this nose stud trumps your penis piercing any day of the week, y'all, because I can't hide my nose in my pants if I get shy after the new hardware has been inserted. Also? I did this the day before a Mexican wedding and that, my friends, takes some serious juevos.
I think yours looks perfect, she told me. I’m just not so sure about mine.
So I showed her the photos I had taken and pointed out that what she was looking at now was what other people would see.
That looks good, she said, a smile lighting up her whole face. Here, lo0k at these of you.
So I looked and I saw what other people would see when they saw me and that was enough because I only needed to see myself through Other People’s Eyes for just a moment to realize I look beautiful when I don’t give a shit what other people think.
Yeah, I said smiling. That does look good. And we left with our aftercare sheets, giggling and feeling very badass, indeed.