So Today I Got My Nose Pierced

Today started out relatively uneventful. Alyza and I went to downtown Ferndale, and after exiting the Rust Belt, she clapped her hands, got really excited, and screamed “DO YOU WANNA GET YOUR NOSE PIERCED!?” To which I took a minute to reply “sure” to.

After trying a few different shops down there (one didn’t do piercings, the other was closed on Sundays) we found a shop on Woodward that was open, did piercings, and did them with studs (I’m not allowed to wear hoops in my nose at work).

SOOOOO, I did what I’ve been wanting to do since I was 12, but was too scared to do on my own for over ten years: I voluntarily offered myself to get a hollow needle stuck through my nose and carved out a hole.

It was kinda painful at first, especially the few seconds right after the needle went through. The girl had me close my eyes, but I opened them when the needle was still in and there was a burning sensation happening, so I saw it sticking out of my nose as she still had my nostril clamped out. It was kind of uncomfortable for a little bit and I remember thinking WHEN IS SHE GOING TO PUT THE STUD IN!?

But then she finally did and I was like holy shit I actually have my nose pierced! It’s been mildly hurting on and off all day, as expected. I never realized how much I flare my nostrils, though, until today. Every time I do it, I send a small jolt of pain to the piercing and I’m like oh! Okay!

All in all, it wasn’t a bad experience. I wasn’t freaking out like I used to freak out when I thought of getting things like this done, which only means that in about 2 weeks, when I might possibly be getting my first tattoo(s), I will hopefully also be as semi calm as I was today.

Now I’m just playing the waiting game to see who in my family will notice first that there is something different about me, and how long will it take each of them to notice. I deliberately didn’t post the above picture on Facebook, because I decided it might be better for them to see it in person, rather than find out via social networking about my recent body mod.

But really, I’m 22. It’s my body. I can legally do whatever I want.

Oh Michigan, My Michigan!

Dear Michigan,

Oh Michigan, you great and wonderful state of wonderfulness. I have not known what it is like to truly live in any other state in this country, though I have visited a good handful on the east side, and I am not sad about this whatsoever. It dawned on me today while I was driving on Woodward that firstly, what a wonderful privilege I have to drive on this amazing, historical road, and secondly, that even though I feel like my life is meant to be bigger than Michigan, I love living here.

I love the fact that we’re the only place on this earth that can point to our hand when we want to show someone where somewhere is. I love the fact that we have U-turns all over the damn place and 4 lane roads (or shall I say 8 lane roads, you know, WITH U-turns) and double-left turn lanes. I love the fact that Detroit is a ghost city with like 14 people walking around and all the destruction and empty buildings. It’s depressing, yet beautiful, and I call that home.

I remember the drive to the airport in April on I-75, seeing all the burned houses lining the freeway, and feeling simultaneously sad and acknowledging to myself that yes, this place is broken down and sometimes kinda hopeless, but I feel a sense of belonging. And on the way back from the airport after my trip, I remember looking at the desolation and mentally greeting it: Hello uglyass burned house where crackbabies are made, you are part of me. I kinda missed you, actually. I’m glad to be home.

Home, Michigan. That’s what you are to me. You have been home for 14 years. I have grown to speak your language, to know your culture, to love (and hate) your people. I have grown deep roots in you, Michigan. I have become one of those people who, despite knowing how shitty our economy is or how shitty some of our sports teams are (those damn Lions…perfect losing record in 08/09) I still feel immense pride to be a part of you. I love telling people I’m from the D. Well not really, more like Metro Detroit Area, but CLOSE ENOUGH. That I used to live down the street from Eminem’s old house (true story!) and went to the same school he did. I used to be part of 8 Mile Road, homie!

Oh look, it’s me and Maria last summer at the Riverwalk.

What I’m trying to say is that I love you, oh great state surrounded by massive lakes that can be seen from outer space and aliens probably think are pretty legit. I love your humid as fuck summers, your painfully long winters, and your 4 season days. I love your Motown history, music and cars, and I love your slight Canadian influence (hellooooo Hockeytown). I enjoy living here in the land of U-turn-o-topia, losing sports teams, and Vernor’s & Faygo. It’s wonderful, actually.

Here’s to many more years to come, Michigan.
Cheers,
Viviana.