Crushed

So far this summer I have done something I haven't done in a very long time. Paint my fingernails. Twice. I nearly always paint my toenails, but not my finger ones. I don't normally paint them for a number of reasons:

a. I'm right handed, so I can paint my left hand and have it look alright, but when I go to paint my right hand it is just one big fat disaster. I get the nail polish everywhere expect for my fingernail. Then I have to bathe my hands in nail polish remover for about three days before it will all come off. It's a little ridiculous really, so I just don't mess with it.

2. On the rare occasion that I get some crazy inkling to paint my fingernails and actually follow through with it and I manage to not only get the nail polish on my hands but nails also, I'm too impatient to let them dry. I blow on them for about an hour, then I dance around the room waving my my hands in the air for two hours to help them dry faster. Because as you know, when you violently move your hands around after just painting them it makes them dry a LOT faster. After that... I sit on the couch with my hands flat on my knees and wait. For another hour, before I move or dare touch anything.

d. The unfortunate part about the four hour long procedure is that even when I've waited for four hours for my finger nails to dry, as soon as I touch that letter, or door knob, or remote, or keyboard, or pretty white chair... it magically comes off of my fingers and sticks to the ________ (fill in the blank object). Of course I have to take care of that right away and I go for the nail polish remover to take the nail polish off of said object. The only problem with that is as soon as I touch the little plastic bottle that holds the blue (or pink) potion, the paint immediately begins to scrunch up and fall off of my little nails, so while one finger nail might be perfectly pretty, the other ten are not. It's really quite unfortunate.

3. This is just too much to handle and instead of taking a measly four hours it ends up taking about ten. I do not have time to mess with that.

e. In the event that by some miraculous wonder the paint goes on the nail, stays on the nail, and doesn't ruin the moment I touch something, it doesn't last long. Nope. Only hours later, when I plunge my hand into the sudsy sink it will come out plain and without paint. Again, I vow to myself that I will never ever again paint my nails.

So I painted them. This summer. Before we left for our adventure. And I brought with me more paint and the magical and simultaneously evil potion. It's called, "Crushed" (the polish that is) and I think it's a rather fitting name. Every time I use nail paint I am crushed, because it always positively fails. Except... for this one. Maybe the name really is magical because so far, with this one, I haven't had any of the normal troubles I usually have with nail paint. The first time I painted it on I painted very super slowly. Then I didn't touch anything for the rest of the day. Not even the tip of my nose. Which is really quite surprising considering I use half a box of tissues every single day of my life. But it stays. Not just for the day, but for two weeks. It's the magic paint! And really, by the time it starts to chip of, it's allowed to.

The morning I decide to take the remaining flaking paint off, I use the evil magic potion and take of the remaining bits of my polish. Then, very carefully I paint the nails again. After working for an hour on the painting, I slowly stand up and pose my fingers right in front of my little fan. I have to use the palm of my hands and my chin to turn it on and back around, but it works, and finally I manage to get it right.

I learned this trick, of using a fan, when I went with my sister to the nail painting place, the lady painting my nails would shove one in front of a tiny little fan when she finished painting it. So I tried this at home. And it worked. Combined with me standing in front of the tiny little fan for seven hours that is. And after the seven hours were up I went and sat with my hands on my knees for three hours, staring at the white wall in front of my face, just to be sure. By the time the hubs came home my nails were pretty and painted and all dry.

This is the way I get to spend my days. Thankfully I have five whole days a week all to my lonesome self that I can spend doing whatever I want to. Long days. Quiet, long days. And sometimes lonely. Which is why I brought Crushed. It keeps me occupied for the whole day long.