So, bear with me.
I don’t think this post is actually about any one thing and I am fairly sure there is no point.
Indulge me anyway?
Randy and I had my cousin’s wedding reception to attend on Saturday.
My cousin is a lovely young man.
I will forever remember him as a 3 year old, playing in the mud at his new home. I have a picture of him covered in mud up to his neck, his glorious shock of white hair unmarred. His knees are bent and his face is lifted to the sky and he is screaming in joy.
One of the best pictures that has ever existed or ever will exist.
Now he is a man and he married his true love. Nice.
Side note: The reception was fancy enough to necessitate a seating chart. Randy and I sat at a table with my parents and Middle Sister. My mother, who just turned 79 in January is very nearly vegetarian. Not for moral reasons, meat just grosses her out, except bacon. Martha loves bacon. Anyway, she only ate potatoes, green beans and bread from the buffet. Even though there was perfectly good chicken and prime rib. The potatoes where thick and round and crispy on the outside. Not fries and and not baked, but goddamn perfect. Mom looked at me and said “Shell, these potatoes are slappin”. I love my mother like frozen crazy. Also, she is more down with current lingo than I am.
So I had to look good, right?
It’s early spring and I’ve barely had time to de-yeti.
I am rather hirsute, so the de-yeti process takes a while. Also, my heels, which are always horrible, had been unattended for the entire winter. A pedicure was in order. In the worst way.
I had to de-yeti because no way was I getting a pedicure with fur covered legs. I also have hobbit toes, so I had a chore in front of me.
Anyway, I took care of business and was presentable for my pedi.
The woman who gave me my pedicure was amazing.
Seriously, my heels now look like human heels instead of alligator heels. She deserves and award or a medal or something. Also, English is not her first language and I had a difficult time understanding her.
I did, however, understand her dismay by the fact that I was getting a pedicure and had no intention of getting a manicure.
My current fingernail regime is to wait until there is a little growth and then I tear them off. If the result is too jagged, I will just chew them into submission. The result is, my fingernails look like they are maintained by gerbils.
So, I agreed to get my nails done.
I did not, however, understand what I was agreeing to.
I thought I was getting a manicure, just a traditional manicure but the polish would last a month. I got a pink and white dip. I only know it is a pink and white dip because I saw a poster on the wall and realized that is what the technician was saying.
Pink and white dip isn’t just a manicure and polish.
She dipped my fingers in a jar of super fine powder over and over. The last few dips were the color I picked, which was a nude color. This did not make my nail technician happy. She thinks I’m afraid of color.
But that isn’t the point. The point is, now I have these weird fake nails.
I didn’t want fake nails and now I have fake nails. Also, fake nails are super dumb. My finger nails are like 47% thicker than normal which looks sort of odd and presents more problems than one would think. 
First, and most importantly, scratching is no where near as satisfying.
So, now, if my head itches and I scratch it, it’s like I’m scratching through plexi-glass. My scratching skills are depleted now because I have pink and white dip on my finger nails. This is more troubling than you think it is. Seriously.
The other thing, and this is also craptacular, is I can no longer use my fingernails as a tool.
I taped up the baseboards in the office today because I am still painting. I will always be painting. I am pretty sure I died sometime in 2015 and am in hell and my hell is, I will always be painting.
You know what you can’t do if you have pink and white dip on your fingernails? You can’t get a grip on the painter’s tape. Because pink and white dip makes you helpless.
I had to get Randy to get a start on the painter’s tape and then be super careful to not let it completely adhere because my hands are basically useless right now.
The fake nails actually make typing harder.
So, next week is going to be fun. If by fun we agree that fun = sucks.
It’s the yearly sale at my job where I have to work with the public and spend hours schlepping pool chemicals out to cars. I hate this sale. I’m too old for this shit.
I have no idea how the pink and white dip is going to hold up.
So, to sum up.
- The wedding was awesome.
- My mom is adorable.
- I still have a fuckton of painting to do.
- My hands don’t work as good as they used to, but my fingernails look really nice.
- However, my fingernails not slappin’.
- Also, my head itches.
I guess everything will be okay in around 30 days.
The nails will hold up. The problem will come when the dip has to come off. I recommend going back for that. They look great BTW
Thank you. And yes, I will go back to have them removed. I can’t imagine the damage I would do to myself if I attempted to do it alone.
This first time I got acrylics done (somewhen in the late 80s) I got back in the car and released the emergency brake in my Tercel and promptly jammed the new half inch of plastic that wasn’t there before in the console. The pain exploded like a fork in a microwave. Moral of the story: Be glad you didn’t get tips!
OUCH!!! No..no tips, just my own nails.
I’ve only had french nails done twice. Both times when I was going on a cruise. Also in the 80’s-90’s. They looked wonderful. Totally not functional. Me, how do you even do up a zipper with these on? Function above beauty is best. But damn they looked good.
Not saying never again. I will hire someone to dress me though so I can maintain them.
Yours look good…Almost tempting. Ok not today. It is Monday.
Well, they do look nice…but still
Amen to the deal that the nails are no longer tools. You can’t pick up a damn penny with those nails.
I KNOW! Nothing. I can pick up NOTHING small.
OMG. I did that once too and felt exactly the same way. Except I had kids, and young ones, so damage to said nails was inevitable even though the nail technician assured me that they would be practically bullet-proof. Spoiler: They’re NOT. They’re also a bitch to get off. So good luck.
I don’t even want to think about removing them. I might just chop my fingers off. I mean, how bad do I really need them.
In the 90’s I got acrylics and as a cuticle picker it stopped me from doing it because as you now know, you cannot feel your fingertips or navigate them to grip tiny things like hangnails. Good luck!
It’s been a pain the ass all day.
This last week a family member showed off her dipped nails. They looked like regular painted nails which made me wonder what the point was–although she said they’d last longer and she likes her teal nails so that’s cool. Although seriously they should find a way to give you some detailed warning of what you’re getting into.
Also your mother is cool. And amazing. And you’re doing a pretty good job schleppin’ the sprakhn. Mazel tov!
My mother IS amazing! She’s so funny and adorable.
The worst is when they get some length on them and you can see all the crap that gets stuck under them. My MIL has fake nails and it terrifies me that she touches my children with them after I saw how much lotion, food, and who knows what else accumulated under them…..worse than dirty kid nails!
Yep, I can already see that is a problem.
Just love love love you!
You are funnier than shit!!
Keep it up
OMG thank you so much!! This makes my evening.
Briana has this weird stuff that goes on as a fine, silvery, powder, and then gets blasted with UV light and comes out looking like chrome.
She tried grinding up the coating on CD-ROMs to make them iridescent, but somehow it didn’t work, but left rainbow glitter all over the top of the wastebasket when she threw it away.
Haha..well, THAT is festive!
DUDE. I love the way this post is not actually about any one thing, but it is. This is how I strive to make my blog, but I’m not sure anyone actually enjoys trying to follow all the threads but me. Maybe ending with bullet points is a good idea…will I owe you money for that? Also, does your mom want to be Slim Shady? I used to be Slim Shady; I was the real shady when my daughter was in high school, mortified on the livingroom floor telling her friends not to giggle. I think your mom gets it, though.
Hahaha..Awesome, and no…no payment required. I mean, had I been the actual one to invent bullet points, I might be sending you an invoice.
Fake nails and schlepping pool supplies for people… yup.
Gonna suck.
But.
Think of the funny story you’re going to spin from the misery. That we’re going to need 🙂
Survival rate: 100%
<3
Yeah, that is all over now. This weekend was a blur
Your Mama is a peach… a Slappin’ Peach <3
She is!!!
Oh. Good Grief Gertie…. I’ma week behind…. Oy.
Well, then, in that case – Congratulations!!! Michelle’s Survival Rate: 110%
*whispers* How’d the nails survive? 😉
The nails are still perfect. And in my way.
I’m two weeks late reading this, but the laughter is worth it. Thank you. And Happy Mother’s Day!
thank you!!!
Thank you for explaining what “pink and white dip” is – I was tempted BY THE NAME to run out and get me one (or ten, really), because I assumed it was more like a French Manicure, and I love me a nice French Manicure. But no way in hell do I want fake nails, for all the reasons you listed! So I’ll just continue painting my own damn nails, I guess. My “regimen” is to slap a coat or two of one color on ’em until it has significantly chipped away from the edges of my right (dominant) hand, and then pick another color to slap a coat or two RIGHT THE FUCK ON TOP until is has significantly chipped away from the edges of my right (dominant) hand, REPEAT AD INFINITUM until it LOOKS like I have fake nails. Then peel all that shit off until I reach the actual nails, give ’em a coupla weeks or months to “recover”, and start over. Sometimes I’ll file them or trim them a bit, so they maintain a “shape” – I am NOT a nail biter, so that’s good. They mostly look pretty good, which is important for my acting career (well, a LITTLE important).
Ennyhoo, I appreciated the anecdote about little boy now married, as well as the inside scoop on the latest mani-trends. Good luck with the painting!
Thank you! I still hate these nails so bad. They are a pain in the ass. I can’t fucking pick up ANYTHING.