ison Piercing I've always been strange when it comes to my piercings (something people would consider me weird for in the first place). When I first got my eyebrow ring (my first piercing), I was rather conservative with what I would ever consider for a piercing. At the time, I might consider getting my lobes done, and that was about it. Even the eyebrow was a sort of stroke of genius on the part of the lead singer of Blink182 (Mark Hoppus is his name I believe). I saw one of their videos, "Josie" (great song, and album) and in it the lead singer had purple hair and an eyebrow ring. Something about that inspired me, and I decided I needed both. In hindsight I may not have been all that original. But back to my story. So I decided upon this, even though it was uncharacteristic of me. And then I had to take it out. Sad story, I know cry me a river, but that's irrelevant (or at least read my eyebrow experience). But then shortly later I decided I wanted my tongue pierced, something I once considered beyond taboo, and more importantly, insanely painful. And then came my nipple. And then I actually DID get a Prince Albert piercing (the others were simply pipe dreams at the time), and my whole world just changed. I had once considered an eyebrow piercing too much, and now I was willing to allow my most special of special places to be pierced. And then, like clockworks, things I once considered forbidden and sick, were now hopes and aspirations. I got my nipple pierced, some ear work, and then finally, found something new and unusual to love. The madison.
Now basically everyone had the same reactions when I told them. Either A: "Ohmigod, won't you die from it going through your jugular?" These were not the brightest of people; or B: "Wow, I've never seen that before" Which was kind of what I was going for, and I told them as much. But it took my months and months of asking around for it. I mean I already knew where to go, Miraculous Creations, duh (creature of habit I am), but who to take me? At the time I didn't have my license, so I simply kept asking around. A few people said yes, and then had to cancel. I even made an appointment once, and was all set to go, when the person never returned me phone calls, and never showed up. Finally, a week before March 2000 (not sure of the exact date) I call my brother up from work, and ask him to take me to the piercing place to get this cool new piercing. He says ok, but unfortunately, Miraculous Creations is closed, so he suggests Masterpiece Tattoo (well it's that in New Hampshire, I think this one was called Masterpiece Piercings) in Framingham, MA. It's the sister shop to one in New Hampshire where I talked him into getting a tongue piercing, and where I got some cartilage done (instead of the tattoo I had wanted). Damned I can digress. So we go to the shop, and it's hidden behind another building, in this little back alley. I'm freaked out. We go inside, and it's pretty nice looking, more like a clean little apartment than a piercing studio I thought, but it was spotless and kind of sterile, so I was ok. The two guys inside were playing a Dreamcast game, and asked what they could do for us. I asked, "Do you do madison piercings?" "Nope." My world crashed around me. Of course in consolation I got an orbital in the helix of my ear that was quite painful, but that's another tale. So about a week later, I continued trying to get a ride to Miraculous Creations, to no avail. The proprietor of the studio, Rose Pulda, was really looking forward to doing the piercing, and was disappointed I couldn't make it in when I wanted to. On February 29th of 2000, I had an appointment to go get my license. Now this would be the third time, and luckily the charm, since I was going with a driving instructor's class. I did get my license, and then proceeded to run home and shave my head in celebration (read my labret experience for another example of my doing crazy shit to my hair in celebration). That same day I called Rose up, and made an appointment for the next day at five-thirty for my madison appointment. I'd drive myself if need be. Of course I didn't have a car, and my brother actually took me in HIS, but that's irrelevant. So I arrive there, maybe a little bit late, and the receptionist guy informs me that Rose is very excited I made it in, and that she was even willing to go pick me up herself for the piercing. I presume he was kidding, since I live quite a ways away from Worcester Massachusetts. So I go into the back, and we go through the procedures and cleaning techniques. One slight difference is that there is a woman here with Rose, Cory, who is either apprenticing there, or simply watching and learning how to do a madison. So I sit down, and Rose asks me to remove my sweatshirt. I do so, ever conscious about my skinny white torso, but she soon gets to work marking two horizontal spots on the bottom of my throat. Only when Rose is completely sure does she ask me if I am ready. I say yes, and start some weird breathing techniques that I learned can sometimes help. I am extremely nervous, but the needle goes through without a hitch, and I am fine and off. Everyone remarks on how incredible the piercing looks and Rose gets a picture for her web site (www.miraculouscreations.com). My brother tells me I look like a white supremacist, and then proceeds to go to a new car dealership looking for something for himself. Of course the guy we spoke to happened to be black and my brother kept making inappropriate comments, but that's just the price I pay for making him take me I guess. It's been almost nine months since then, and I am afraid that Rose's dire portents came to pass. She had told me (just like I had read on BMEzine.com) that the piercing would most certainly end up rejecting, and it did. Well better to say it got pretty badly infected and was being constrained a lot. At the time I got it I was working at a restaurant, and needed to wear an outfit. And outfit that usually left the piercing open to the public's eyes. This was obviously not ok to my bosses. So I wore another shirt underneath the work shirt, and this one was kind of tight, and often rubbed against the madison. Then when I left that job, and temped at a networking place for the summer, I noticed it started to get infected on one side. This hurt more than it ever had, and I had noticed that it seemed to be awfully red. This coupled with my desire to never let my parents see it forced me to take it out. I was disappointed, but unlike some of my previous piercings, I at least got some pictures of this one. And since I took it out (Early July) there is nothing left but two almost indiscernible scars. Some claim, after looking closely, that it looks like a vampire tried to bite me in the square center of my chest. One interesting side note before I stop rambling, is that about two months ago or so, when I was talking to my mom, she offhandedly told me that my faux sister-in-law (mother of my nephew, not married to my brother) had told her that I had my neck pierced. Without pause I pulled down my shirt, showing her my scars. Which she didn't see. She just kind of "Hmm'ed", and I was on my way, scot-free.