So about a week ago, I put a poll into my blog asking you guys if I should “do something that may drive me a little crazy just for the experience to blog about” and you jerks said yes.
SIDENOTE: A couple of you said no, which I think is really sweet. Thanks for trying to protect me, you two people. Too bad everyone else I know is a horrible person.
SIDENOTE TO THE SIDENOTE: < / sarcasm >
ANOTHER SIDENOTE: Like I’m ever going to be done with sarcasm.
Anyway, so I did it.
I put on fake nails.
“Girl Nails,” I sometimes call them.
SIDENOTE: Yes, I’m aware that’s a gender stereotype, because look at me.
I’ve always kept my nails short. Like, super short. Sometimes my friends say their nails are short and I look at them and I see talons.
Maybe it’s because I played violin as a kid and guitar and bass as a teen, but longer nails have always driven me crazy. I hate how they feel. I get weird about them when they get dirty. (Okay, fine, I’m a straight up germophobe.) They’re just a nuisance. But I’ve always thought they look really nice.
I think I’ve had long nails twice in my life. Once I grew mine out naturally, and I think I kept them about a week before I lost my mind and chopped them down.
SIDENOTE: My “long” natural nails were equal to when the friends above tell me theirs are “short.”
Then there was a day maybe five years ago when I decided to put on fake nails for a New Year’s Eve event I was working at the theatre. I think I lasted about a day and a half before freaking out and taking them off.
So I thought it was about time to try again. After all, I’m older, I’m more mature, I’m much cooler and calmer about life now.
SIDENOTE: Genuine LOL.
Okay, so really, I assumed they would drive me batshit crazy. But I thought it might make a good story.
Funny how that worked out!
I applied the nails at approximately 10pm last night. It was a bit of a trying process. Here are the life lessons I learned just from the application process, which will make next time (ha! next time) easier:
(A) Start with the “trickier” hand.
(B) Start with the smaller nails.
(C) Super glue is VERY sticky.
I have to say, the end result was actually pretty nice.
I was like, “Well, HEY. Maybe I can be a girl with pretty fake nails!”
Then I tried to get on with my life.
“HOW DO YOU LIVE LIKE THIS?!” I texted my BFF Jolene, who rocks gorgeous gel nails all the time.
Oh, and it took me about 10 minutes to even text her because NAILS ON MY HANDS.
I sort of got the hang of using my iPhone, so I managed to calm down for a little while. I watched some American Horror Story: Asylum (OH MY GOD YOU GUYS I LOVE THIS SHOW WHY DID I WAIT SO LONG TO WATCH IT!?) and chilled, stopping to look at my nails every 32 seconds because (A) I was freaked out by them and (B) they looked so pretty!
I never really stopped to consider my bedtime routine…
Not that bedtime routine, you pervs.*
I got to my room and looked in the mirror.
Oh, right, I thought to myself, I wear contacts.
It took me approx. 15 minutes to get my contacts out of my eyes, and I scratched the shit out of one of them. It’s still sore.
Then I went to get changed for bed and OH MY FUCKING GOD OUCH scratched a huge cut down my side/bum when I took my pants off.
I limped to my bed and got under the covers, feeling scared and defeated and losing a lot of blood.
SIDENOTE: Okay, fine. There was no blood.
Once I was asleep, I was safe.
I didn’t have any nightmares about the Talons of Death. Not that I remember, anyway. Maybe they’re surface 10 years down the line and I’ll be traumatized all over again.
I woke up this morning feeling pretty well rested. It went a little something like this:
ANDREA opens her eyes slowly, soaking in the morning sunshine coming through her bedroom window. She takes a deep breath in, exhaling with a happy sigh. That was a good sleep.
Then the dreaded memory hits her. Her face drops.
OH RIGHT I’M WEARING FAKE NAILS. I HATE MY LIFE.
Guys, I couldn’t do it.
I sacrificed a morning of productivity to soak my hands in a bowl of acetone nail polish remover to get the nails the hell off my hands.
IT TOOK FUCKING FOREVER.
But I honestly felt trapped. I had to teach a Zumba class this morning. How was I going to get dressed? How was I going to put my contacts back in? How would I brush my teeth? Later, how would I shower? HOW? HOW? HOW?
So, let’s recap:
Time wearing nails: ~ 12 hours (6 of which I was asleep for)
Injuries sustained: a scratched eye, a scratched bum, and two bloody fingers/nails (from the removal process)
SEE ALSO: wounded pride
Sanity: wavering, but slowly returning since removal of nails
Lesson learned: I’m a short-short nails girl. I’m going to just have to admire my friends’ nails for the rest of my life.
P.S. Next time I say I want to try fake nails again, SLAP ME. Or remind me that I wear contacts.
*Wouldn’t ever consider trying that on day 1 with fake nails. Ouch.