I did something crazy yesterday.
I went to a little tattoo and body piercing parlor in New Hampshire, and I left with a tiny stud in the left side of my nose.
It was my junior year of high school when I decided I wanted one, when I met a older-than-me girl who had an exotic name and a nose ring. She was beautiful and funny and so much cooler than I ever would be, though. And I still lived with my parents, who would, I’m certain, kill me if I came home with a nose ring.
Plus, it wasn’t practical. What would I do when I had a cold?
So I gave up on the idea. And over the past 20+ years, whenever I’ve met someone who has one, a little voice inside me says, So pretty! And then I move on.
Until recently, it hadn’t actually occurred to me that a nose ring was something I actually could get for myself.
I don’t know which exercise it was in The Artist’s Way, but a few weeks ago I made a list which I am simply calling my list of “Things I’d Do If I Was Brave Enough.” Get a nose ring was at the top. I posted the list on my wall, and I’ve been looking at it daily for a little while.
And last week, it struck me.
Why didn’t I just go out and get one?
So I did. Yesterday.
It’s pretty and completely impractical and it makes my heart so damn happy.