This fall I'll be entering the University of Maryland studying biological sciences (with emphasis in physiology and neurobiology) in hopes of becoming a surgeon as well as participating on the scholars program. Countless nights of tossing and turning, worrying about English essays and anatomy tests, I've become a neurotic little girl jaded beyond all belief. My parent's authoritarian hand paired with my own ambitions for the future has forced me to grow up before my time. I feel like I've been sleep walking my way to "success"; I agonized about the torrents of responsibility awaiting me pass the threshold into adulthood.
At A Glance Author Lillian Contact Lillian@bme.anon When It just happened Artist ozone Studio Studio 42 Location Beaver Falls, PA But shit- how can a fan of the book "fight club", an avid listener of anarcho punk and industrial from the likes of Coil to Flux of Pink Indians let my life slip through my hands? I couldn't let turning eighteen be a bleak endeavor into adult angst. Somehow the idea of getting an industrial got into my head; not just an industrial, a vertical industrial. I've eyed the industrial when I was younger but with the advent of scene I was deterred away from piercings the next four years; I didn't want to be a walking cliche. soon as many figure out when they get older, who gives a shit? what they do has nothing with what I do. I researched for a month staring at every picture of the vertical industrial I could, all the infectious ears, wrong placements, type of jewelry, and started hounding down the places I can call in montgomery county.
On my eighteenth, I wander into inker's in rockville with money in hand- I am greeted by the clerk and inquire about the price: one hundred ten! I nervously asked about the nickel in their jewelry which the clerk replied there is trace amounts of nickel in it; and either I chickened out, am too cheap, or I'm paranoid about my nickel allergy; I couldn't tell which. I called bethesda tattoo company later and they had the same reply- what a shitty eighteenth; the highlight was the nap I took right after my trip to Inkers. After my nap I remembered I'll be going to Beaver Falls for the summer to work so I googled for a tattoo parlor in beaver falls- I ended up reading a bmezine post written about Studio 42, checked their site, and rang them up; a seventy dollar asking price and reassurance about my nickel allergy.
After arriving in beaver falls on a sunday, I dredge on with my restaurant work until tuesday and I took the brisk half mile walk to the parlor which seemed to be milesssssss. I was soon to find out that the piercer were booked and advised to come back the next day to pester about the industrial. I give them a ring at about 1:30 asking whether ozone would have freetime and told he would at two so I head over. I meet the co-owner cassie and tell her about what I wanted in my quiet voice. Being piercing free (took out my earrings in the sixth grade after four months of having them! talk about impatient.) they advised against the vertical, telling me I had to have a consultation and it should be one of my "later piercings", how painful it is, the complications; I my threshold for pain is high but I didn't want to come off as a persistent shrew but didn't intend to leave beaver falls piercingless so I settled for the regular industrial. I come back a hour later and sign the forms and present my ID. I'm fidgeting and staring at the pair of tits on a flash that are staring back. all those pictures of collapsed ears from the industrial, the peeling skin; I'm anxious beyond all reason but I want this, I waited for over a month. I keep on checking my phone to see if my dad is calling me to get back to the restaurant.
After cleaning up after his last client, I get called up. I sit in the black chair and it's like going to the dentist. I'm apprehensive and my eyes stare hard at the prep table and I'm looking for needles as I get my ear cleaned. My barbell is bent to fit the shape of my ear and I'm still looking for the needles. my ears are marked and I glance at the placement, I just say yes to everything. The needles present themselves; one being dunked in vaseline. "I'm going to count to three: one, two, three" - the anticipated pain is comparable to scraping a knee. He places the barbell in halfway. We prepare for the next hole once again, supposedly the real painful part "one, two, three" - felt just like the first time. Ozone comments about how I must not really feel pain or don't react to it- I only let out a nervous laugh. The barbell is placed in the second hole and I get to look at it in the mirror, and I can't get over how big it is. I'm all giddy and thank him and wander out, who aaaaaaa- that's all I can think about. I still have the same anxiety as I'm writing this (that'll wear away once the danger of infection is over) but a sheepish grin as well. :3
the point? there's no point to prove with getting a piercing but its just something I did because becoming an adult meant I could if I wanted- something every teen anticipates with their eighteenth. it wasn't about the maturation because that happens over a lifetime of experience- how about a new experience, something that didn't contribute to my future success like I was obsessed with but something fun and interesting.