If you know me personally, there’s a good chance you’ve already realised I’m actually writing this for myself. In T-minus 6 hours I shall become a temporary resident of Needle City once again, and adrenaline is already creeping its way through my crybaby veins…you’d think that 11 stabs in, I’d be some kinda tough nut. Ha! Nope.
But that’s not to say you should wuss out. Here’s how I intend on (once again) grabbing my piercing fear by the balls, and taking one step closer towards my alt-goth dreams.
Don’t fear being a scaredy-cat. I’m a sook. Really, I am. It took the first heavy break up of my life just to get my earlobes pierced…and afterwards, I blacked out halfway to the bus station (about a two-minute walk through the mall). It’s okay to wince. You’re still a badass.
Grub’s up. A good feed pre-stab will help settle your tummy and curb your bod’s want to pass out in front of strangers (à la yours truly). Plus, there’s nothing like a cheeky treat to take your mind off things. (Fortunately for me, there’s a vegan takeout right beside my piercer’s shop—thus nacho fries have become my go-to. Yeah, baby.)
- Acacia Strain — All She Wrote
- Sworn In — Sunshine
- Knocked Loose — The Gospel
- Turnstile — Real Thing
Real Thing also reminds me of getting kicked square in the face at a music festival, which serves as the ultimate reminder of my invincibility…or at the very least, of my capability to soldier on.
Note—if Alt-J or The Smiths are more your style, don’t hold back. Whatever gets you goin’.
Powerade. The elixir of life. If, like me, adrenaline leaves you feeling sickly and delirious instead of concert-level excited, electrolytes will help you. I find it also feels good knowing you have some kind of security blanket in place—nowadays, I refuse to do anything remotely spooky without a bottle of blue sugar in hand. Not even doctor’s appointments.
Remember why you’re here. Whether it’s to prove your badassery, own up to a lost bet, or give your look that extra spice you feel is necessary, these minute moments of pain will be so fucking worth it. The aftercare is easy, so long as you bother to do it, and after that…you’re set. Fashionable for life.
It’s crunch time.
Count to five. Recite the alphabet backwards. Perform a solo rendition of Shakespeare’s Hamlet in your mind. Whatever distracts you only needs to last a few seconds, and you’re done—just like that, the needle’s tucked away and you’re free to lay down and guzzle your Powerade in peace.
Go get ’em, tiger.