Thursday, August 02, 2007

a story with holes in it

My dad, the big old Italian man who one would think would have had my ears pierced at birth, what with him being from Italy and all, aka the Land Of Hoopy Earrings, would NOT let me get my ears pierced, not until either a) Hell froze over or b) I turned eighteen. I think he thought hoop earrings turned virginal little girls into bikie sluts and molls or something, and he must have looked long and hard at the potential for sluttage I'd pick up from all my little girl friends, most of them Italian and all with their own potential being coaxed out by the hoops in their five year old ears.

ANYWAY, when I was twelve, my parents wanted me to sit for another scholarship exam. Bleah. I was all face down on my desk crying "noooo!", so they dangled the carrot of "you can do anything you want to after the exam is over" in front of the back of my tragic head (what?), so I lifted my head long enough to tell them that I wanted to go to an ear piercing salon to get my virginal ears pierced, right after I sat the exam that promised to save them a buttload of cash and ruin my weekend. For I wasn't just smart, I was wily, and from my forehead-to-desk position, I heard them whisper frantically among themselves about the hole they'd blindly dug for themselves and.....okay. They agreed to pierce my ears, but! There would be NO hoops allowed for according the hushed negotiations, it was hoops that would condemn me to a life as a bikie chick ho', and not the actual holes in my ears. I was hip with that because what did I care? I was twelve! A hole in each lobe was a hole in each lobe! Whoopee!

So the exam was duly sat and the ears duly pierced - with studs - and hoops were never to be worn. Ever.

Despite all efforts though, my newly holed lobes hurt like a fucker for EVER, and I got infection after infection after infection. Age and wisdom has taught me since that this wasn't entirely normal and that my dumbass parents probably should have taken me to the doctor sooner than the ENTIRE YEAR it took them to do so. Finally though, the doctor was consulted and he diagnosed an allergy to rhodium plating and prescribed...wait for it....hoops.


So hoops were bought and inserted, my ears finafuckingly recovered from the assault of the rhodium, and because I sat for and won each successive scholarship exam I sat for, my parents had to suck it.


On a totally unrelated note, iMovie. People, does it suck or do I?

I've got this .mov file that plays beautifully on my computer but that YouTube says is...unsupported, I think the error message was, and that won't play for anyone I email it to. My first assumption (as it always is) is that I've not done a crucial something when saving the fucking thing, so I've looked here and there but there doesn't seem to be anything I need to do to make it work apart from click 'save" and then remember where I saved it to, and criminy jickets, isn't iMovie supposed to be idiot proof anyway? I guess if I emailed the entire .mov folder, the stupid thing would play for the recipients, but isn't the .mov file supposed to contain everything it needs to play itself? And I'm only doing the emailing thing anyway because I can't upload the fucker to YouTube in the first place.

World, what gives?

2005-2007© aibee