We all do goofy things when we’re younger. From curling and spraying our hair to give us our own perfect example of “mall bangs,” to pining after the one guy that was just not that into you, we’ve all been there. Multiple times. One goofy thing I did in college has now been undone.
I have removed my belly button ring.
I was never the type of girl to have a pierced belly button anyway. I didn’t hang out on Water Street every weekend (if you don’t live in Milwaukee, replace Water St. with the bar area in your city where frat boys go to hit on sorority girls, who are probably drinking roofie-laden Red Bull and Vodkas). I have never been a Dave Matthews fan. I don’t have a trust fund. For me, it symbolized just doing something spontaneous and fun with my roommate.
She came home from work early, and I was already home from class.
“Do you want to do something fuuuuuuun?” She asked with a twinkle in her eye. I figured she wanted to try some new kind of booze, or had met a boy and wanted me to accompany her to a random party. I would’ve said yes to either.
“What?” I asked.
“Let’s go get our bellybuttons pierced!!”
And that was it. Off we went to Body Ritual, where she went first. Raise shirt. Iodine on. Breath in. Breath out. Pierced. Simple.
We giggled on the way back to the car. Stopped at Walgreens for some antibacterial soap and took pictures of our newly-pierced stomachs when we got home. Thank God for self-timers on our old school film cameras.
But that was almost a decade ago. Few people ever even knew I had my bellybutton pierced. But I did and I liked it. But now I took it out. For reasons that I will reveal in a later post (can you hardly stand the suspense? I know!!!).
I must admit, my navel does look pretty boring now. Oh well. At least I’ve still got my tattoos.