stabbing myself in the gut

Okay, so I did it.

I got my piko pierced.

She-ra might have a slightly different notion of what happened, as all I heard while having the piercing go through my skin was a huge gasp and all the air sucked out of the room. (If she writes an account of her point of view, I'll link it...)

She-ra is Strong Woman. She-ra never react to nothing.

So this surprised me.

It was a good experience and much, much less painful--oh, come on, not even coming close to entering the Childbirth scale, people--than everyone says it is.

Or I just have a high pain tolerance.

So now I must go and find a bikini. Or a monokini cut-out one-piece (preferably the latter of the two). I was mildly chastized by the piercer for admitting that I never wear bikinis because I don't particularly like my tummy. She said that anyone who looks like me after having two children should most definitely wear one. That was nice. And admittedly, yes, I am lucky. Something to be said about not being able to eat most of the US's junk and convenience food supply probably has something to do with it, and genetics another part. I said I am simply trying to feel more comfortable in my skin, and this is a good first step. And so we have it.

Unfortunately, I went to try on bikinis later on this evening and the women's do not fit. To be blunt, I just don't have enough boob--remember, I buy my bras at the Teen Department. But I am putting money on it that a girls' size 14/16 extra-large will fit fine. Scary, but true. She-ra is not doubting this, either. So now the hunt is on. My children love to go swimming, and Mama Llama must be there, too.

So I might as well look good.