Today I engaged in one of my pre-vacation rituals -- the pedicure. Sure, some women manage to keep their feet in tiptop shape year round, but I'm a bit of a slacker. I polish, I pumice, I moisturize, but I only call in the professionals when my toes are heading for some fun.
My appointment was at 9 a.m. in order to fit into the day of errands. Tina was waiting and ready to go, blue water bubbling away in the basin. Before she dunked my unsightly soles, I had to show her the problem.
New Year's Eve Toe
[I do not know if this is an official syndrome, so please, if you know of any other cases, direct them to me. Maybe we can have a telethon.]
For those of you not in the metropolitan (tee hee) Richmond area, there was a big street celebration on New Year's Eve. Richmond's version of the legendary Times Square festivities, if you will. There were people, music, and a ball RISE, literally at the end of my street. So I went and enjoyed until the herds of people began to crush together at the central stage, ensuring they were perfectly positioned to not see the ball RISE.
My appointment was at 9 a.m. in order to fit into the day of errands. Tina was waiting and ready to go, blue water bubbling away in the basin. Before she dunked my unsightly soles, I had to show her the problem.
New Year's Eve Toe
[I do not know if this is an official syndrome, so please, if you know of any other cases, direct them to me. Maybe we can have a telethon.]
For those of you not in the metropolitan (tee hee) Richmond area, there was a big street celebration on New Year's Eve. Richmond's version of the legendary Times Square festivities, if you will. There were people, music, and a ball RISE, literally at the end of my street. So I went and enjoyed until the herds of people began to crush together at the central stage, ensuring they were perfectly positioned to not see the ball RISE.
When the revelers shifted and pressed against me hard enough to snap the underwire in my bra, I decided to cut my losses and start moving back towards home. I haven't been in a mosh pit recently, but I can still throw elbows with the best of them. I got moving, albeit slowly. Suddenly, my escape was halted by a large waist-level object. As the object gave slightly, I realized I had encountered a metal newspaper box. Then it rocked back down onto my foot. It did not tickle. Five minutes later I limped out of the masses with a sore foot and one boob lower than the other. Hooray for New Year's!
Being a tough chick, I moved on with my life and forgot about the large metal box landing on my foot. When I took off my blue nail polish two weeks later, I very quickly remembered. My big toe nail was purple.
Being a tough chick, I moved on with my life and forgot about the large metal box landing on my foot. When I took off my blue nail polish two weeks later, I very quickly remembered. My big toe nail was purple.
Since January, two of the little toenails have fallen off and the big toenail has hung in there in all its purple glory. Until last week. That is when the nail started to lift off on one side. Oh happy day. Can't tell you how the prospect of going on vacation with one and one-half big toenails filled me with joy.
But Tina was up to the challenge. After a lengthy discussion and an admonition that I should have come to her immediately, she set to work with gusto and a Dremel drill. I'm not kidding. She laid into that nail with a callous disregard for the tiny strand of keratin holding the whole thing together. She dug under the flap and even worked a bit of cotton ball THROUGH my nail in order to dry it out. Then, she got her purple liquid and her bowl of acrylic powder and BUILT A WHOLE NEW NAIL. It was quite impressive, despite the horrendous fumes. The new nail got the Dremel treatment and then all 1o were painted a cheery blue.
So the good news is that I've been restored to my previous glory. The bad news is that I'm now part acrylic, but still not bionic.
Tell all your single friends, keep your toes in, your underwire protected, and mind the metal boxes!
XO, JamieSmitten
But Tina was up to the challenge. After a lengthy discussion and an admonition that I should have come to her immediately, she set to work with gusto and a Dremel drill. I'm not kidding. She laid into that nail with a callous disregard for the tiny strand of keratin holding the whole thing together. She dug under the flap and even worked a bit of cotton ball THROUGH my nail in order to dry it out. Then, she got her purple liquid and her bowl of acrylic powder and BUILT A WHOLE NEW NAIL. It was quite impressive, despite the horrendous fumes. The new nail got the Dremel treatment and then all 1o were painted a cheery blue.
So the good news is that I've been restored to my previous glory. The bad news is that I'm now part acrylic, but still not bionic.
Tell all your single friends, keep your toes in, your underwire protected, and mind the metal boxes!
XO, JamieSmitten
1 comment:
my toe hurts just reading it. as an aside, the other night I closed my thumb in the car door...it freaking hurt like hell...
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