I GOT A NEW HOLE IN MY FACE and I can’t stop hitting it on things, help.

I stopped getting piercings for obvious reasons when Momo was born, but I thought I was finally clear of the danger of grabby baby hands. Turns out, they’re never too old for flying tacklehugs. Worth it, though.

In other news, the salt soak I just did was, without a doubt, the most erotic thing I’ve ever done involving my nose.

(With thanks to Cory at Adrenaline in Vancouver for putting a very sharp thing through my crooked septum and making it look pretty damn good.)