The Chica wants to get a navel ring and wants me to go with. I am all for it; my navel, however, has buried itself under the covers of my flabby stomach and is showing no interest in coming up for air (or piercing). I told C I'd get it done with her once the navel woke up and smelled the crunches, but she's going in a month and I can say with a good amount of certainty that one month ain't gonna cut it, navel-wise. I said I'd go with for moral support; she said I should get it done anyway. Her point: good motivation to work out. My point: good way to end up with a piercing somewhere under my left boob. I mean, god knows what'll happen to it once I actually lose weight. That's the main reason I haven't gotten a tattoo yet. Remember when you were a kid and you used Silly Putty to pick up a cartoon print, then stretched it 'til it got all wacky? Yeah. You get the picture. Brrr.