Spoilered for length: Nose ring insertion advice, and a related yucky(/funny?) anecdote.
A few days later, while I was eating, I suddenly bit down on something hard. I freaked out for a second, thinking a filling had popped out--bracing myself for the stabbing tooth-agony that was surely going to hit me any second-- Then I fished my missing nose-stud out of my mouth. It must have popped out of its hole (from me rubbing my face in my sleep I suppose), then somehow fell into my nostril as I dozed on, oblivious; THEN, over the course of several days, slowly worked its way through my nose, down into the top of my throat (like post-nasal drip! eww!), and finally dropped into my mouth. I consider myself lucky I didn't accidentally inhale it into my lungs. ...Or swallow it and have to poop it out. Ouch. That could have been bad. *Sigh*. Oh, freshman year.
Umm, anyways... I swear by rings now. Except I lost mine and it's hard to find nose-rings that don't have that stupid bead on them (the dangly-metal-booger problem detailed above...).
The curvature can seem tough to insert, but with a bit of patience and finesse (and practice I guess), it becomes very doable. It's probably easier if your piercing has been completely healed up for a while, so it's not as tender or prone to swelling when you poke bits of metal around inside of it. The trick is to get your piece of jewelry most of the way in, then ease up a bit, and gently wiggle the end around (just a bit!) while you stick your finger in that nostril to feel for the exit hole on the other side. Don't poke too hard--insist a bit if you think you're close, but you probably won't have to force it unless the hole's started to close up.
Wow, I feel so graceful and ladylike after posting the above.
New Rant! Unrelated to household chores! (The homeless dude in the kitchen moved out! The slobby roommate and his slobby girlfriend have been out of state for the past 2 weeks! It's been glorious!)
So there's this adorable little girl at work (infant/toddler room, daycare). She's very sweet. Her mother is nice enough, I generally have no problem with her (although she's feuding with the room's Head Teacher for various reasons, some of which will become clear in a second). Except when I'm reminded that she seems to be completely fucking insane. I hope she never happens to see this, I don't want to stop being on good terms with her. But there is mounting evidence that she's a little bit batshit. I will leave most of that evidence (snippets of conversations, details of her life) out of this and just focus on the one major problem.
Get This. She can't decide what to name her baby. Not a baby-yet-to-be-born. The baby she already has, who is attending our daycare. The baby that emerged from her womb A YEAR AND A HALF AGO.
OK the explanation of this got longer than I expected, so spoilered-for-length again:
Seriously. WTF. Apparently, just before I started working in this room last year, mom came in every other day insisting her daughter be called a different name than the one before. I was around for the latter half of this stage of events. The Head Teacher told Mom that we really couldn't call the girl a different name every day. We'd been just kind of sticking to the first, original name the girl arrived with (let's pretend it was "Lila"). I mean, I didn't really get what was going on, and of course I was just calling her "Lila," cause that's how I'd been introduced to the kid, and it's what was written down on the forms, bottles, diaper boxes, etc.
At one point, she seemed really-really-sure of a particular name (let's pretend this one is... "Rain"). She said she was filling out the name-change paperwork and all. So we complied, changed all the labels from "Lila" to "Rain", and tried to remember to use the new name instead of the one we'd gotten used to. As you can imagine, we occasionally slipped up and called the girl Lila. When Mom was around to hear any of these slip-ups she'd get offended.
When she continued trying to change the name on a frequent basis, the Head Teacher put her foot down and said NO, WE REALLY REALLY CAN NOT CALL YOUR KID A DIFFERENT NAME EVERY DAY. So Mom got righteously PO'd that we weren't respecting her wishes, she thought we were questioning her competence as a mother, etc. She complained to the Director on numerous occasions. Eventually Mom, Head Teacher, and Director had a sit-down to establish the following: YOU can call your child whatever you want to, but for daycare, you need to pick a name and stick with it. They had her sign a statement that said (more or less) "At daycare, my child will be called 'Sunshine' unless I come in with paperwork showing that her name has officially been changed to something else."
So we switched the name-labels, etc again, and we've been calling her Sunshine ever since. And I keep thinking it's over, only it's not. Mom can still often be heard rambling about how she thinks the child doesn't really respond to Sunshine. And how the other night she was trying out different names, and she felt--on a spiritual or psychic level--that as it turns out, the child really wants to be called "Apple-Blossom!" ... etc... (my made-up names are more hippie-dippie than the real names, but... Not by a whole lot. Mommy used to tour with the Dead.)
So all the while, as far as we can tell, this little girl really only goes by "Sunshine"--which she HAS started to respond to, thxverymuch--at daycare, which she attends infrequently. At home, her name is whatever "feels right" to Mom at any given moment. For fuck's sake! Oh, you don't think she really "responds" to "Sunshine?" MAYBE IT'S BECAUSE SHE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT HER FUCKING NAME IS!!! BECAUSE IN HER 19 MONTHS OF LIFE ON THIS EARTH, MOM'S CALLED HER SOMETHING DIFFERENT EVERY DAY!!! Our 13-month-old responds to her name! Heck, I think our 7-month-old responds to his name now! Because it's what people have called him, all day, every day, ever since he popped out of his mama! Because that's the way it's supposed to be fucking done! AAAAAAAAGH!
Yeah. I generally get along fine with her, but when I remember all this... I get this sudden urge to steal her (sweet, charming, and probably very confused) little girl away with me when I leave town next month. Because if this doesn't stop soon, I suspect that cutie pie is gonna wind up with some major issues! Fuck!
Edit: Hey! Actually, does anybody know of any experiments/studies/tribal naming customs/case studies/news articles/etc that might be related to this? I mean, anything about what the long-term psychological and social effects of not having a name for the first x # of years of their life? Surely there are similar instances, maybe even obscure cultural precedents?