derringer

Two months after I turned 18, I moved out of my grandparents house, where I had lived my entire life. My boyfriend and I had been dating for five years, and for the past two we had been living together. Unfortunately the strain of living on our own took it’s toll and things fell apart six months into our one year lease. I spent the next two years bouncing around from friends couches, my boyfriend’s mother’s living room, my car and eventually my childhood home once again. We moved back in with my grandparents in 2006 after being in a car accident that made it impossible for me to sleep where I was living at the time. We haven’t been able to leave since.

I’m terrified we won’t be able to make it on our own again. Coupled with my lack of employment (and difficulty finding it) and our credit card debt we’ve amassed since I lost my job in 2007, I feel like we’re never going to get out of here. It’s tearing our relationship, as well as my sanity, apart.

I have to though, I have to.

So back in 2002 I got my conchs pierced. It hurt, like a bitch. Probably the most painful piercing I’ve ever had done. Unfortunately my ears were not well suited for the piercings or the jewelry I demanded on wearing in them and after three years and stretching them from a 14g to an 8g, I retired them.

I had always planned on having them redone once they were healed and I had given myself ample time to take care of the scar tissue left behind.

Fast forward to this past Saturday, April 26th, 2008. I went with my friend to get her septum pierced and I had been itching to get something, ANYTHING done lately. After talking with my piercer the previous day he had decided I should punch my conchs, although I was a little hesitant (that’s a thick ass piece of ear!) he gently persuaded me, saying that if I didn’t do it today, I’d just want to do it next week and he was in the mood to do it now, so that was that.

And so I did, and it was good.

The right ear went, as he put it, as “smooth as butter”, minor bleeding, nothing to write home about. The left ear hurt a bit more, but again, it was pretty easy, nothing compared to getting them pierced.

Per ritual, I ate the biopsied cylinders of cartilage and then went on my merry way, very happy with my new 4g conchs.

My only regret? That I couldn’t go any larger due to my anatomy (I would have liked to go to a 0g). Oh well, they still look sweet.

My healed right flat.