Nails

My entire life, I have been a nail bitter. Gross, I know. I tried everything to stop. Every Lent, I would give up bitting my nails, with varying degrees of success. Sometimes by Easter, I could actually use a bit of polish. By Easter Monday, somehow, they would be short again. So, a few years ago, I was going to a wedding. I had an little black sleeveless dress, a blackwrap, and a very unactractive purple cast (more on my accident proneness later). What is a girl to do? I needed something to draw attention away from my cast. Ah Ha! Fake nails...

Now, I had never, in my 30 something years, been into a nail salon. No mani/pedis for me, ever. I made my daughter tag along and set out. I walked in, said I wanted some fake nails put on. Who knew there were so many choices? Finally, after some confusion on my part, I settled on acyrlic nails, with a deep red color (had to match my funky purse). One hour later, I walked out a happy girl. Having never had nails before, I could barely function at the simplist tasks - getting keys out, puting on lipstick, lighting a smoke, and don't even get me started on going to the bathroom...

A year and a half later, I faithfully go to the salon every tree weeks to get my nails touched up, have a made friend in Ling, and discovered the beauty of a pedicure. Every women and man needs to experience the relaxing effects of the pedi - I even treat my teenage daughter to them (great bribe, by the way).

Reason 742 why I love living in a city, where we can walk to get our nails done (cheap rates too), grab a bite to eat, browse a used book store and say hi to friends.