It was meant to be.

Yesterday... or two days ago now, since its 2:30 in the morning, Ali picked me up from work at 7pm a the Seneca Queen Theatre. And we drove. We drove to Wal*mart and bought movies (Peter Pan & Dracula for me, Platoon and Zoolander for Ali). We drove to her Yama's house and searched in a phone book for a little tattoo & piercing shop called "Artistic Impressions". We found it. Ferry St. Sketchy part of town, apparently. But the unsketchiest place to go. We drove around. We found it. We parked. We bought orange juice. We walked down to the place. Ali asked me to walk in first, because clearly we don't look like we belong there. So I go in. A woman walks to the counter. "Hi, Can I help you?", "Yes, we're looking to get our ears pierced". "Alright, how old are you?". "Eighteen". "I'm Seventeen, but I've got a note be-". "You don't need one. You just need to be sixteen." So she gives us some forms. We fill them out. We debate on whether or not Ali is prone to fainting. We decide she's not. The woman is back. We all learn names. Brooke, Ali, Brooke, Ali, Sarah. "Follow me." We walk down a hall way. I look in first room to the left of me. There is a man I've seen before tattooing another man. He looks up. We keep walking. The woman turns into another door on the left. I am leading behind her. I see a pink print on the wall. We turn in the room. I look and notice its an Andy Warhol print of Audrey Hepburn.

I was meant to be pierced here.

In conclusion?

ALI AND I GOT OUR HELIXES PIERCED! I got the hoop, Ali got the ball. Next time? Tragus. For sure. It didn't hurt. Still doesn't. I told the woman it was like cutting through cheese. She said it was the weirdest statement she'd ever heard.