Dear MF Diary: Fangsgiving 2008. No spirit animal…YET.

1. Yesterday I took Franny to get her ears pierced, one of those little lady rites of passage I suppose we all go through at some time or other. I got mine done at six and when I was eight they closed up due to me wearing some crap Claire’s earrings for several days in a row. I think I was swimming a lot that summer and they were corroding or something gross like that. Then I was re-mallgunned at ten. Currently I have six holes in my ear; three were mallgunned and three were piercing shopped. I am very proud that Franny’s first unnatural holes in her body were done by a PRO. FESSIONAL. PIERCER. (*is smug*)

She kind of jibblied around a little bit and I brought her back to Earth with a gentle “Hey, this is a big girl thing, so you gotta sack up and act like a big girl for this.” She held very still and listened to directions and, unsurprisingly, thought it was going to hurt worse than it did. Now she has sweet little hoops with captive beads and they look so cute. I feel relieved to finally have fulfilled my birthday promise, despite the fact that spending any money is making me cry right now.

2. I got turned down for yet another job where I made it to the multiple interview stage and got another “We thought you were a really strong candidate, etc.” This is starting to affect my self of steam. In a way I am relieved, because I thought the job sounded dull, and would be tough as a resume stepping stone (it had a weird job title and was kind of nichey writing) but I see another yellow bill come into the mailslot today and I think it certainly would have been better than a poke in the eye. I should have an interview next week for a position that has “editor” in the title, which excites me. I am ready to give blood to get one of these increasingly rare positions.

3. Retail job is going well…except for the fact that my lazy typety type ass is not used to being on my feet for 6-8 hours. When I come home from retail job, I disappear into a pit after barely being able to get the kids done for the night and sleep for 11 hours. I am not kidding. I wake up refreshed and wonder where my day went.

I got hazed on my first day on the floor. A regular employee came in with the foulest mood I had ever seen, and this is someone who spent 5+ years in record stores surrounded by aspiring Jack Blacks-in-High-Fidelity of all stripes. I introduced myself to her and she pointedly ignored me and picked up the phone. Then she told me that if I “put anyone off” with my nose ring I should direct them to her. I told her I wasn’t worried because I’ve had it for half my life now and when I smile people know I am friendly. I mean, it’s Seattle, FFS. People don’t really bat an eye at me. Then the adorable gay boy who took me under his wing was singing and she said, pretty loudly, “Could you be any more flaming?” I forgot how different retail environments are. Sexual harassment, non-PC statements, and just plain-old nastiness just run rampant. I know this happens in offices, too (I have seen it, for sure) but it seems like everything boils down to the lowest common denominator when you slap someone behind a register.

By the next shift she decided I was non-useless, and now I seem to be in the clubhouse somewhat. She has been shoving the ESL/tourists off onto me because I have always had a knack for understanding the Japanese and a lot of patience. Now I hear her call across the store: “SJ! Translate!” I have to say this is the most fun retail job I’ve ever had. Yesterday I was talking to someone about this knifemaster I was reading about in Oly and the difference between Japanese and American knives. The company ethos dictates that you just pretty much stand around talking to people all day. It’s much less dismal than, say, the time I put in at Tower or even the indie stores.

4. Yesterday on the way back from work I was listening to the Nippers, and they were interviewing this lady who wrote Things That Makes Us [Sic] (GET IT??), about grammar. Additionally, she is a founding member of SPOGG, which, you know, right on for grammar analness but yesterday on the radio she was actually espousing correcting our friends and loved ones when they stray off the grammar trail. I was a little saddened by this, because she seemed whip-smart otherwise. She likened correcting people’s grammar to pointing out the fact your friend has spinach in their teeth. I say no to this. She claims that your friends will thank you, I claim that they will not call your pompous presumptuous ass back. Unless this is a form of public trolling, in which case I say WELL PLAYED. IRL lulz are hard to come by, and should be seized when possible.

5. Fangsgiving. I am thinking about my mom today, thanks to an email exchange I was having with my friend and neighbor, who is helping me with my Hester Prynne problems, thank you babby jesus. I was telling him about adventures in cooking for my mother, the ingrate.

1999. I am living in a rambler in Phoenix with SeaFed. We also have a roommate who thinks that we’re crazy and who is chased out by my mother and sister’s presence eventually. My mother was with us after fleeing the East Coast and her third marriage. I had discovered that I liked to cook after becoming the gothic trophy wife of my drug-dealing husband and finding that I had both too much money and too much time on my hands. I was really starting to get my chefery on at this point. Since we were a small gathering of four for Thanksgiving that year, I decided to get schmancy and make cornish game hens with a honey-apricot-herb glaze of my own devising.

They turned out beautifully. Golden, fruity, crispy around the edges. Stuffed with nuts and scallions and crap.

My mom’s response: “I can’t believe you didn’t make a turkey.”

2000. Franny is a wee little six-week old sprog and we have all caravaned to the PNW’ed (booooo) and are housesharing in Shoreline. I am vaguely and stupidly excited about the prospect of us all Fangsgivinging together in the house, me, my mom, my sister, and now Franny. I wanted to contribute, so I offered to make stuffing. I decided on cornbread and I made an unholy fuckton. I even did it “right” and made it a day or two before so it could dry out a bit beforehand. Verily it was delicious.

My mom’s response: “Mmm, I think I prefer StoveTop.”

2005. I am crammed into the shittiest yet nicest apartment we can afford. Daniel comes over, as well as my sister and mother, who deigns to let me have Thanksgiving at my house. I was very pleased with the company and the group effort.

My mom’s response: “This meal does not contain enough organ meats.”

Conclusion: if you are cooking for someone who is a StoveTop-eating, gibblet-munching, persnickety ass, don’t expect great things. This year I am making it Southern style with bourbon gravy, cornbread stuffing, and beans-n-bacon. NO ONE will be persnickety. Happy Fangsgiving.

P.S. Renee Khan and others, I am working my way through Sepulchre and even taking notes. FOR JOO.

36 thoughts on “Dear MF Diary: Fangsgiving 2008. No spirit animal…YET.

  1. I had my ears pierced about 5 times starting on my 7th birthday. They just kept growing over! When I was about 14 they finally quit so I had 2 holes that I had to keep posts in around the clock. When I was 15 I could take the damn posts out and leave them out. By that point, I was bored with earrings. When I turned 16, a friend poked 2 more holes above the first holes and earrings became fun again.
    I’m now 20 and only wear earrings for special occasions. But my tongue ring stays in. :P

  2. DOOONT be sorry. Just shout Tee Em after for extra obnoxiousness. My fail writing and words is my gift unto the world.

  3. Hehe. My mum and I were walking past a little ear piercing shop when I was 8 and she casually asked if I’d like my ears pierced. Only, only, because she thought I’d say no. She told me that it was studs only, little girls don’t look nice with rings. Then my aunty bought me rings for Christmas 4 months later, so all was well. :D

  4. She claims that your friends will thank you, I claim that they will not call your pompous presumptuous ass back.

    Hah. Too right. I am currently experiencing inlawxication, which results in my tenses, moods, and verbs drifting farther and farther apart as the hours pass. They are fine folks, and I do love them, but South Alabama English does not resemble anything I heard growing up. Also, I’ve gotten back into the groove with the accents, but for the first hour they showed up, I was like “do I ask them what they said, or just fake it?” Faking it worked most of the time, so social dishonesty FTW.

    Also, LOLverty FTL. We are apparently going on a “shopping expedition” in a few hours. My response to which is “how can one shop when one has no money?” Looking at fun things to buy for A! Whole! Day! is only made more fun by not having money to purchase that luscious 95% discounted XBOX360. O Star Trek marathon, where are you when I need you?

  5. I decided on cornbread and I made an unholy fuckton. I even did it “right” and made it a day or two before so it could dry out a bit beforehand. Verily it was delicious.

    My mom’s response: “Mmm, I think I prefer StoveTop.”

    SHE DID NOT!!! I know she’s your mom, but I kind of want to go back in time and flick her in the forehead.

    I recently took my mother in law to get her ears repierced. Since she had the needle treatment first, in the 60s, I decided she ought to get gunned. Claire’s did it up right for her.

  6. OK, for the uninitiated in the crowd: why is professional piercing for ears superior to mall-gunning?

  7. You made me think of my mom. No matter what you made, she would dump half a shaker of salt on it, so you couldn’t taste it anyway. Used to make me so mad! She died at age 53 –

    My grandmother would be the one for the ornery comments.

    I hope you get the job you want. Its tough.

  8. OK, for the uninitiated in the crowd: why is professional piercing for ears superior to mall-gunning?

    The gun method doesn’t always pierce the ear entirely, especially if you have fat earlobes. The gun can squeeze and mangle the lobe, and then the sharpened stud doesn’t penetrate all the way through, leaving the piercer with the choice of leaving the customer with a half-peirced lobe, or shoving the piercing slowly through the flesh… often into their thumb tip on the back of the lobe.

    If the guns aren’t disposable, they are really hard to clean, and it’s very possible to get bits of previous piercees’ bodily cruds/dried blood in the new open wound of your earlobe. They are also pretty violent.

    I’ve had my ears done with a gun, and it hurt a hell of a lot, was loud, and the studs were too short for my lobes. The heads of the posts got stuck INSIDE my lobes and my mom had to dig them out with her nails. I got a pretty gross infection. I later got my ears pierced with a needle at a piercing studio on two separate occasions and it didn’t hurt AT ALL, although I had some issues with the metal used (apparently, I react to surgical grade titanium. FUN TIMES.)

    I want to get my ears pierced further, but my apparently super-delicate skin objects violently to anything being inside it. Disappointing. I’m going to skip tattoos as well. SIGH. At least scarification is still an option.

  9. *Desperately google-fooing for a professional piercer. That was eyeball popping BK, ewww. (Yet another reason to be thankful I do NOT have daughters!) I promised #3 son he could get his ear pierced at 16 and I just don’t think I’m up for the old ice cube and needle thang like grandma did for me.

  10. Yikes, well, thanks BK for the info. I had no idea!

    So as to be prepared when my kids’ ear-piercing time comes: how might one find/choose a kid-friendly professional piercer?

  11. Oh, forgot to add that a professional piercing studio has a bathroom with hot running water, latex-free gloves, and an autoclave (for sterilizing equipment) as well as piercers that have been highly educated and certified (usually). Mall gunners have… wet naps? I have no idea how sanitary they are. has a directory of piercing studios, I think, along with feedback from people who’ve used them. Once you get some recs, visit the studio with your kid and check to make sure that you feel safe and respected there, and that the place looks clean and the staff is courteous, helpful, and knowledgeable. You’ll most likely have to bring a photo ID of yourself, proof of your kid’s identity (photo id, school id, birth certificate, etc) and sign a paper saying that you, as his guardian, consent to a minor getting pierced. They’ll probably photocopy your documents and keep them on file with the signed consent form, I think that’s standard.

    My mom’s sister pierced my mom’s ears with an ice cube and an icepick. One of her earlobes is accidentally pierced twice, once all the way through and once partially though, and the other tunnel is crooked. She has a hella hard time getting earrings in. A pro is absolutely the right way to go. :)

    Oh, and if your earlobe piercings do get irritated or infected, a really helpful and soothing thing to do is fill a shot glass with hot water and antiseptic and soak the lobe in it for a minute or two, then rinse thoroughly. Just lift the glass up and let your earlobe flop right in.

  12. OMG retail weekend et mah brane.

    Satchel: You might try Yelp, if you are in or near a large city, or word of mouth if you know pierced teens/cousins/FOAFs whomever.

  13. Heh. I have to deal with this every night of my life. B is happy with whatever I feed him, so long as I feed him. Mom… There’s always something for her to wrinkle her nose at. It’s very rare that a meal is 100% to her satisfaction. Even if it’s tasty, she’ll be like “Is this all I get?” Meanwhile, I tell her it will fill her up. [I’m trying to do portion control over here, fatass!]… and then when I ask her later, she’s like “yeah, it filled me up. but I could eat moar” completely missing the POINT of portion control and you BEING FULL!

    I gave my “organ meats” to the furry children. neko ate afew pieces of heart/liver and then left… Miyuki didn’t want em… So basement cat scarfed the rest. Basement cat can EAT. lulz

  14. Good luck getting the job with ‘editor’ in the title. My husband lost his job in June, and yeah, it’s hard on the pocket book and the self esteem at the same time.

    Glad your daughter got her ears pierced and that it went well. I considered taking my daughter to a pro, but I was told that they didn’t pierce under a certain age, so we went to the mall. Luckily, it turned out fine.

    Regarding Thanksgiving, since when is organ meat a big part of the day? I’m thankful not to have a bunch of Thanksgivings like that. Ugh.

  15. I got my ears done at a Claire’s when I was twelve, and apparently the girl that did them was only 16, had JUST begun training to pierce ears, and wasn’t legally allowed to do them yet. For several years my lopsided holes were a source of great consternation for me, until eventually my ears flattened against my head a bit more over time and the wonky angles my earrings stuck out at weren’t so wonky anymore.

    Go you for not putting your daughter through even the *possibiity* of things like that.

    (Oh and yes, I spent the next 6 months afterwards fighting off one infection after another, despite my meticulous cleaning regimen. Boo Claire’s.)

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