A Stud-ly Affair.

I'd meant to blog about this yesterday but the last minute mad rush to prepare and finish the stuff for this morning's advocacy class left me with no time. Especially since a size able portion of the evening was spent rushing about doing damage control for the pierced ear. And spending a considerable sum of money in the process.

I'd always wanted to get my ear pierced for sometime now. The absolute lack of variety for magnetic ear studs: mainly constituting either a black or clear crystal stud in three sizes, coupled with the annoying need to remind oneself that one had magnetic ear studs on lest one forgets and tugs at the earlobe; were compelling reasons for wanting to do so. The thought of having another accessory to play around with, with the sheer variety available and building up a look along with one's outfit was also appealing.

But most importantly, I wanted to do it. And the main obstacle has always been the Boyfriend's Husband's adamant opposition to me doing so. For some reason which generally runs along the lines of "Guys with Studs look Gross." So like a dutiful Boyfriend (then) I had always deferred. But yesterday the urge was really strong and I'd been doing a little research on that bit, so after meeting a friend for lunch, I decided to hop over to the body tattoo place at Paradiz.

Besides, I figured (and fervently hoped) that Sean would still accept his husband, pierced, studded or not. (I wasn't wrong in this respect, thank you dear:)). Anyhow, I settled on the body tattoo and piercing outlet because hygiene was of the utmost concern and the idea of a single use, sterile surgical steel needle was infinitely more appealing than being pierced by a grimy ear piercer hand gun done by your average Ah Lian at one of those cosmetic booth stores.

Even though it cost a considerable 40 bucks, I figured it was a worthwhile price to pay especially since it came with the choice of one surgical steel ear stud, for which I chose a curved matte black one, capped with little cones on both ends. A piece I was immensely pleased with for it was just the right size and totally matched what I was wearing.

The piercing itself was..interesting. Apparently it was all done by hand, so after marking the spot with a felt pen, the guy swabbed on the alcohol and removed the sterile single use needle which looked disturbingly thick. Which he then proceeded to drill through (by hand) the marked spot, an activity that probably lasted no more than 8 seconds. The sensation was a lot more disturbing than the actual pain; a sharp but not intolerable pain somewhat akin to one's first anal sex session or perhaps one with no lube involved. Sans the pleasurable bit of course. The 'scritch scritch' sound of skin and flesh giving way coupled with that sensation of tearing flesh was more disconcerting.

Anyhow, to cut to the chase I left pleased and happy, then realised to my abject horror I'd clean forgotten about the advocacy session the following morning. Which basically entails us having to go to court and present our prepared arguments. And there's no way one can go all dressed up, suit and all, with a conspicuously obvious stud and hope to survive the session unscathed/unnoticed. But because I was under the (very mistaken) impression that the piercing would simply be slightly damp and raw albeit a little bloody, I thought that I could simply swap out the stud with one of those clear plastic straws.

After purchasing the thick straws from the 77th Street outlet at AMK Hub, which the lady said was the same thickness as the stud, I went home. Merry and accomplished. Then I figured that I should swap out the stud for the straw then instead of attempting to do it the following morning. Which on hindsight was probably for the best, I can imagine attempting to do it this morning and getting the rudest shock of my life. Shudder.

Removing the stud was the easy part. What happened later was a veritable nightmare. The moment I removed the stud, blood welled out of the piercing, thick and copious. Which naturally made me more than a little anxious, my plan of inserting a clean newly sterilized with alcohol plastic straw into a damp and perhaps slightly raw piercing with little fuss now rudely dashed. Hurriedly dabbing away the blood, I attempted to jab the plastic straw through in one quick, clean motion, hoping to staunch the flow of blood that welled up and started to trickle down my frantically probing fingers.

Which naturally didn't work, it got in but it didn't exit. So I was basically jiggling it about frantically while pulling on my earlobe, hoping that it would somehow just pop through. Which it didn't of course. The blood was by now dripping from my hands onto the mantelpiece in what was starting to look like some macabre murder scene. Attempting to douse it with more cleaning alcohol only served to dilute the flow of magenta, which when coupled with my increasingly frantic attempts at shoving the bloody piece of plastic through, such as tilting my head so that I could attempt to see the exit hole more clearly in the bloody mess; basically meant that rivulets of blood flowed down my face and neck, soaking into the shirt or dripping on the floor.

I probably looked like something fresh out of Scream or your average horror film. But never in my life did I ever suspect that such a tiny puncture could spout so much blood, so quickly. Though my manhandling and desperate jamming about of the stick probably didn't help either.

After a couple more frenzied attempts that included trying a slightly thinner straw, running like a headless chicken to the toilet to get a clearer view and dripping blood over the Sister's cosmetic bottles, I finally gave up, the plastic stud still jammed in halfway and called a cab to head down to Paradiz. Which cost a whooping $20.30.

The guy while more than a little surprised (What? You removed it so fast? I told you to wait for at least three days!) was kind and nice enough to do the damage control for free even though I was prepared at that stage to pay for another piercing just to re-open the exit hole which had already closed by then. Damage control that basically entailed forcing the stick through by brute force. The poor guy had to exert a lot of energy and it was incredibly, incredibly painful. The sensation akin to having your ear ripped off. So much for a hygienic piercing ^^.

If having one's ear pierced by needle is akin to the pain felt at that very first anal session, having a too thick (which the guy commented, oh no wonder you had problems, the stick is thicker than the stud!) plastic straw forcibly rammed through an already closed wound is like being fucked with a 9 inch dick to the hilt without lubrication.

So now you all know, take it from an idiot. Don't remove your stud for whatever reason within the first three days. And if you do, at least do so with professional help. Or be prepared for a really bloody mess. Surprisingly though, despite all the abuse and trauma suffered by the ear and even though the guy said it'd be very likely to be infected after using such manual brute force opening methods, the piercing is just fine and dandy, not swollen, no infection or pus. Like what I told Sean, it could just be that I'm used to penetration. Which elicited a 'rolling of the eyes' kind of response.

Anyhow, I won't be touching the straw for the next two weeks. Once pierced, twice shy. In other news, Sean now officially earns more than I'll get as a newly called-to-the-Bar lawyer. And that coming from the guy who two years ago said I'd need to support him in the future. Congrats, dear! You really deserve it and I'm thrilled for you.

Now you can support me for the next 5 months. :) Ha ha ha.