Pierce on Earth and Mercy Mild

After contemplating the idea for two months, I decided to get my nose pierced. It’s probably the most impulsive decision I’ve ever made.

When I called my mom, she said, “Well, I hope that the hole goes away when you decide you don’t like it anymore.” When I called my dad, he said, “Alright, next time I see you, I’ll try to contain my…” I suggested, “Disgust?” He didn’t say anything.

I wasn’t alone in the permanent alteration of my features, though. On December 15, a Tuesday in the middle of finals, some lovely folks and I trekked to Tatmandu, a local tattoo parlor and purveyor of piercing expertise, to let strangers poke holes in our faces.

Turns out that it didn’t hurt that much, and my dad even managed to muster an “it’s cute” when I saw him next.

The final decisions were…
Nina and Chloe: cartilage.
Haley and Halley (that’s me): nose.
Sam: earlobe.

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