Oh my god.

All of the stuff. And things. And more stuff, with extra things.

Things and stuff. x.x

I suppose I should start by finishing where yesterday left off. Since I was a slacker and didn’t write this morning or yesterday evening.

So. The earring story.

I’ve had my ears pierced for what seems like forever. I remember the first time I got them pierced. I don’t remember how old I was, but we were in Ohio visiting my dad’s family. It was snowing outside, which was amazing because that’s all I had wanted for my birthday. Snow.

I think this was my birthday gift from my dad. He had always wanted me to have pierced ears. He said all girls have pierced ears.

I remember sitting on the stool in the shop, nervous, excited. This was one step closer to being a grown up. I would be able to wear pretty things. Little sparkling gemstones in my ears. Light blue turquoise. My birthstone.

I remember jumping when the piecing happened. It was with a piercing gun, so it made a loud sound. There wasn’t any pain, and really it was the noise that had bothered me more than anything.

I don’t really know if any of that is important. I guess in a way, looking back at it, to me it is. I had my ears pierced because it was something my dad wanted. It hadn’t been my own thought.

When my parents divorced I didn’t wear any jewelry. I didn’t like the idea of things touching my body. No necklaces. No rings. No earrings. It didn’t feel right.

Always these feelings that I can’t explain. Or maybe it is because they are in the past, back before I was really aware of how my mind worked. So I ‘knew’ something felt right or wrong, but couldn’t really step back enough to analyze the feelings, to find the thread of thought and to see where it led.

So regardless as to the ‘why’ I did it, I took the earrings out, and left them out for years. They weren’t a part of me. They were a reminder of him. And I didn’t need any more reminders of the hole my dad created in my chest when he left.

Eventually I got my ears repierced, but instead of pretty gemstones I left them as plain surgical steel bars. I wasn’t the little girl I once was. I wasn’t daddy’s princess, nor did I want to be.

I didn’t want sparkling jewels. They reminded me of softness, weakness. They reminded me of the past, of my dad. And that’s not what I wanted.

I got my ears pierced the second time because it was what I wanted. I felt it would be right, and so I paid to have it done. It was an act for myself, rather than for someone else. Purely for me, by me.

Self expression.

I knew when I got them pierced that I would gauge them (make the hole bigger). I didn’t know how big, but bigger than the 22g I was pierced with.

I did it the ‘wrong’ way at first. Basically I would find a pair of earrings that I liked which were a size bigger than what I had and force them through. Eventually I stopped around a 16g. Still pretty small. It’s not like I’m walking around with 1 inch holes in my ears. Nor do I want to.

I’m not sure what happened. I think, like what has recently happened. I lost one of the rings due to playing with the ball, and instead of being asymmetrical, I took the other ring out as well, and never got around to replacing them.

So again, I was without earrings for a few years. Not because I didn’t want them. It just wasn’t a priority for me. I would get around to it… eventually…

When I first started dating Jarrett that was something that I did. I went out and got a new set of rings. Horseshoe rings, surgical steel again, with little balls that I could twist and play with as I thought through problems.

Those were size 16g, but it took me about an hour to force the new rings in. Which sucked. My right piercing actually got infected from it, which was a whole ‘nother world of suckage.

That was the year before last, during Thanksgiving.

I’m happy to report that I took care of my ear, and the infection cleared up after a few days. I also learned my lesson, and promised myself that if I wanted to seriously start gauging my ears again, that I would do it properly, rather than mistreating my body.

So here we are at the present. With me wanting new earrings since my right side has been without one for almost half a year now.

There is a tattoo and piercing parlor near my apartment, which I’ve actually been to before. I’ve bought H2Ocean from them, which is a sea salt spray used to clean piercings.

I suppose I should mention that I have five in total.

Anyway, I’ve been to this parlor before, and I like the vibes from there. It’s most likely going to be the place where I get my tattoos.

I stopped by there yesterday after doing a bunch of research online about how to properly gauge ears. I was all armed and ready, inner scientist gripping her clip board of facts, rimmed glassed pushed up the bridge of her nose, ready to recite any and all information she had gathered.

When I got there I was greeted by Freddie, the resident piercer. All the other guys do tattoos.

I told him what I was looking to do and he had me go with him back to one of the rooms. I showed him the earring I had been wearing, and that I was looking to gauge to about an 8g. At least that’s what I’m thinking to go to at the moment.

He said that typically you want to go up one size at a time and wait two to three months between sizes. I was cool with that. That’s what I had read online, so it wasn’t anything new.

It would be $25 to get a set of 14g rings. So it’s up a size. The only down side is that my right side wasn’t able to accept the new ring since I haven’t had anything in it for so long.

Freddie actually repierced it for me, and put a size 16g ring in it for me for free. He said the next time I come in, around the first of April, to size up he’ll switch everything out for me.

He was super awesome about everything. And let me have the new ring for my right ear for “free.99’ he said.

Overall it was a pleasant experience. And since I will be working with him for the duration of this endeavor, I don’t have to worry about having to buy tapers and jewelry. He will provide the tapers as long as I buy the jewelry from the store, which I have no problem doing.

They have always treated me well, which is why I will most likely go there for my tattoos. Good vibes, good service.

After leaving the shop I came back home and cross stitched. Really I was just killing time until I could go to the dojo for the mixed martial arts class.

It was so much fun. There was only one other person there. A boy about 14 I would say. He had been at the beginner’s aikido class that I had gone to.

We did a bunch of cardio for warm up. Running. Jumping jacks. I was sweating before we even began the workout. It was awesome.

We learned ‘the 16 punches’ and proper stance.

It is very different from aikido, where the object is to not cause harm.

With this class you’re essentially trying to decapitate your opponent with your fists. Or elbows.

At least that’s what Sensei Mark told me to think of. I’m punching through something, rather than stopping once I’ve made imaginary contact with my enemy.

It was a much different type of energy. Where I feel a flow, like dancing, with aikido, the class last night was much more aggressive and the dragon in me liked it.

I think I will be happy to learn both styles.

We rounded out the class with push-ups, crunches, sit-ups, and burpees. I was surprised I didn’t have to crawl out of the dojo.

After I came home I pretty much passed out. Between biking, the piercing parlor, and then vanquishing my enemies with the 16 punches of death, my body rebelled in the only way it knew how. By making sure I fell into a coma and no longer had the ability to force it to do things.

My brain was pretty ok with that.

I woke up early today, poked around through my email, got caught up on WordPress and did the daily prompt.

Went to the Laundromat. Read a bunch of stuff for my new class. Went to the gym for 9:30 spin (13 miles today, go me). Came home and put the cloths away, read more homework stuff, went to Jo Ann Fabrics since I used of the 815 thread that I had.

After that it was time for work. The first SAL lab of the month, which meant a lot of talking for Frank with me chiming in every once in a while.

When we went on break a girl came up to me and said she was super interested in rigging, and wanted to know if there was anything she could do to get a jump start on that.

I pointed her to some content she could check out, along with Codecademy to start picking up on Python. I gave me my email address so if she ever ran into issues she could reach out to me.

So that made me feel warm and fuzzy.

There were a handful of questions, and I got to flex some Photoshop skills. But nothing overly stressful. Just a lot of socialness, which kept me form getting anything personal done, and meant that I needed some down time if I was going to go to the aikido fundamentals class later.

So I came home. I chatted with mom for a bit. She had a story she wanted to tell me. But we never got around to actually talking about it. We started on a different topic and when we were about to switch over to the ‘main story’ she asked if I had time to chat.

I said that I actually really needed to do some more homework first, and then I had my class, so it would work better if I could call later in the evening.

She was fine with that, so I hung up, buckled down for my reading, and got through most of it before I had to stop to get ready for my second workout of the day.

When I got to the dojo I was told that my gi (uniform) had come in. It was like Christmas for me. I hadn’t been expecting it until early next week, at least that’s what I had been told.

I was all prepared to be the ‘new student’ without a uniform, sort of standing out awkwardly, but determined to fit in.

But now I have my uniform and it’s so awesome. : D

I don’t really know why it’s so awesome, especially since it’s white, and I normally can’t stand wearing that color. But it is awesome, and I love it. So much love. <3

Like, seriously. I feel like a 5 year old with a new toy or something. I shouldn’t be this giddy over cloths. And I’m totally resisting the urge to hug it.

I was shown how to put it on, and tie the belt. I was told how to care for it and wash it. And I got to wear it during the class tonight. No more awkward student standing out in yoga cloths.

Just a regular awkward student in a gi like everyone else.

It was a great class. Sensei Jan was teaching, and sensei Mark was there with his son again. There were three other gentlemen, and the boy from my class last night.

Sensei Mark worked with me on one of the moves, and then two of the other guys were my partners for the rest of class.

I like that sensei Mark was there, since I practiced with him my first night.

I can’t lie, at first I had a really hard time with the physical contact. Being the ‘defender’ wasn’t bad, but being the ‘attacker’ made me uncomfortable, and still does a little. But it is getting easier.

I don’t know how to really explain it. I knew this was a physical activity. So why would I want to do it if I have a thing about being touched by strangers?

Maybe I’m using it as a way to get over what I feel is becoming a phobia? Maybe it’s a way to have contact with others and have it not be sexual. Or looked at as an advance.

“Sure you can hold my hand… while I twist around, bending your elbow and then pin you face first to the floor. You’re cool with that right?”

I suppose it’s something to meditate on.

I feel like it is healing something inside me, like it is giving me something to be a part of outside of work. No one is expecting me to solve problems while I am at the dojo. There aren’t deadlines that I have to worry about. There aren’t fires that I have to put out.

I am a student. All I am meant to do is to learn. To do my best.

I like it. A lot. And I like that everyone is so nice and kind to me.

Sensei Jan actually came to me after class, gave me a high five, and said that I have a ‘natural ability’ for this. That I go with the movement while most people have a hard time finding the flow when they first start out. How they get frustrated with the movements, with their bodies.

I can’t lie, part of me likes the compliment. But another part of me really, really dislikes it.

I know how frustrating it can be for someone to ‘naturally’ be amazing at something while you struggle to master just the basics.

I don’t want to be ‘that’ person. The one people admire and despise in the same breath. I don’t want to make people uncomfortable or draw attention to myself.

At the same time, moving feels right. It’s like how I feel like I’m supposed to know how to dance. To move with the music. The one time I went swing dancing was amazing, and I wish so much that I could do it again.

I suppose this is just something that I need to be aware of. Conscious.

I will continue to do my best, and will see where that leads me.

It was pretty cute when I first got to the dojo. Sensei Mark was sitting in one of the chairs next to the desk in the room. He greeted me and said, “I didn’t kill you?”

I laughed and replied with, “Not yet.”

Sensei Beata, one of the two female instructors was there, and said, “This one will not kill easy. That I can assure you.”

It wasn’t until I was driving home that I had the thought, “She’s right.”

It would take much more than one mixed martial arts class to kill an Earth Dragon.

My night is pretty much over. I had wanted to finish off my reading, and then my cross stitch but that will have to wait. It’s is already almost midnight and I have to wake up at 5am to get to a 6am spin class.

CRI1 has lab at 9am, and there is a weapons class at the dojo at 7pm.

I have more to write about, but I will save it for tomorrow.

Like I said in the beginning… All of the stuff.