![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
saffronhareETA: The piercings are done. I've got pretty little silver hoops, positioned about halfway up my ears. Many thanks to the folks who recommended Irezumi's -- the piercing dude did a great job making sure I understood what and how things would happen and giving me the after-care pep talk. I'd originally wanted to go a bit higher up the ear, but he feared they'd look like floppy little antennae on my teeny-tiny ears, so I took his advice. Very glad I did. This is already a zillion times better than my experience at a Claire's-esque place about 13 years ago. I'm throbbing quite happily now and getting ready to take a bit of ibuprofen to make sure the swelling stays down. It only hurt enough for me to feel like it was a proper sacrifice, but not so much that I flinched or anything else. Yay!
****
Of all my family, my brother is the one around whom I self-edit my talk about paganish things the least. He's not pagan, but could perhaps be the poster boy for pagan-friendly folks in my life.
Exhibit A: at one point last week, when his daughter simply would not be comforted and was giving off near-visible sparks in the middle of the night, he brought her to Aunt Nikki for some help. Then he sat, fascinated, while I talked with her about magic and her favorite color, and how that color might feel or taste or smell if she was still and quiet enough for it to gather around her like a blanket. She was calm as all get-out after that, especially for a red-headed, green-eyed Irish kid with an ear infection. By morning, the "magic" had become a full-fledged princess outfit in her imagination -- complete with flower petal slippers. (grin)
Anyway. Chip (my brother) has two cats -- one quite old and one very young. At no point last week did either of them cause any allergic reaction in me whatsoever, despite the younger one playing in my hair at every opportunity. If you know me, you would have harbored some suspicion that my body had been taken over by aliens. I made a joke about the double-edged sword of Bast's blessing, and he started asking questions. So I talked about the God Auction, etc. About patronage and aspecting. About Bast being sort of an Old Testament kind of girl and liking blood sacrifice -- not just any blood, mind you, but my own...aspecting these old gods can very much be about who's willing to take a nail through the hand, dontcha know. And, finally, about the promise I'd made to get a set of new piercings in my ears as part of the devotional bargain. He blinked a lot, but asked some great questions and proceeded to tease me for the remainder of the visit in such a way that indicated he Got It. Which was great, let me tell you.
Now, over the course of last week -- since the day of my aborted trip to go get these piercings about nine days ago -- I've been accidentally cutting myself every day. A not-so-little bit of blood has been shed every fecking day. I vaguely remember Chip frowning at me nearly every time it happened, but didn't register his attention until I just this morning opened up my planner to check the schedule for today. I hadn't unpacked it or even opened it over my vacation (don't even know why I bothered bringing it, really). Nestled in there was a bundle of cash, with an unsigned note attached that I'd better use it to get those piercings done ASAP...or else.
What a great surprise! I know what I'm doing over lunch today for sure.
****
Of all my family, my brother is the one around whom I self-edit my talk about paganish things the least. He's not pagan, but could perhaps be the poster boy for pagan-friendly folks in my life.
Exhibit A: at one point last week, when his daughter simply would not be comforted and was giving off near-visible sparks in the middle of the night, he brought her to Aunt Nikki for some help. Then he sat, fascinated, while I talked with her about magic and her favorite color, and how that color might feel or taste or smell if she was still and quiet enough for it to gather around her like a blanket. She was calm as all get-out after that, especially for a red-headed, green-eyed Irish kid with an ear infection. By morning, the "magic" had become a full-fledged princess outfit in her imagination -- complete with flower petal slippers. (grin)
Anyway. Chip (my brother) has two cats -- one quite old and one very young. At no point last week did either of them cause any allergic reaction in me whatsoever, despite the younger one playing in my hair at every opportunity. If you know me, you would have harbored some suspicion that my body had been taken over by aliens. I made a joke about the double-edged sword of Bast's blessing, and he started asking questions. So I talked about the God Auction, etc. About patronage and aspecting. About Bast being sort of an Old Testament kind of girl and liking blood sacrifice -- not just any blood, mind you, but my own...aspecting these old gods can very much be about who's willing to take a nail through the hand, dontcha know. And, finally, about the promise I'd made to get a set of new piercings in my ears as part of the devotional bargain. He blinked a lot, but asked some great questions and proceeded to tease me for the remainder of the visit in such a way that indicated he Got It. Which was great, let me tell you.
Now, over the course of last week -- since the day of my aborted trip to go get these piercings about nine days ago -- I've been accidentally cutting myself every day. A not-so-little bit of blood has been shed every fecking day. I vaguely remember Chip frowning at me nearly every time it happened, but didn't register his attention until I just this morning opened up my planner to check the schedule for today. I hadn't unpacked it or even opened it over my vacation (don't even know why I bothered bringing it, really). Nestled in there was a bundle of cash, with an unsigned note attached that I'd better use it to get those piercings done ASAP...or else.
What a great surprise! I know what I'm doing over lunch today for sure.
