While the title may sound like something out of an exotic scene in an erotic novel, the content in reality is anything but exotic or erotic!
This post is dedicated to the disastrous adventure of mine, with long nails, that I got on a whim. And of course, as is habit, it had to be the most glaring blue! I love royal blue, and if I had it my way, everything I own, live in, or breathe in would only be royal blue. But alas, I am married to a man who detests any sort of loud colors in anything other than a few pieces of selective clothes. So I have taught myself to survive with the plain and drab colors around me!
It was a Mother's Day treat I promised my mom, myself, and the girls. Off we went to get a mani/pedi. It wasn't a first for any of us, but it certainly was the first time we were all in it together. It was a great way to unwind together. And probably also explains why I got carried away.
The last time I ever had nails above my nail bed was over a decade ago, precisely, the day I was set up to meet my future husband. I won't lie. From the moment that girl-meeting appointment had been finalized by the family, I spent a few days and a glorious amount of money pampering myself. After all, since the major disaster I had survived in the years leading up to that moment, this was the first time I was putting myself out there in front of someone, with the intent of getting their attention and hopefully, maybe even consider falling in love. For someone who always claimed that nails speak a lot about a person's personality, that was among the few expensive things I got done for that meeting. From there on, everything happened in the span of a few months. Before I knew it, I was pregnant with our first baby. All the books I read clearly cautioned against getting any infections, so the wary me decided it was time to keep the nails at bay. It was a whirlwind of babies, pregnancies, hospitals, and daily survival since. You know the drill. Amongst all of that, a manicure was never on the list. For a decade. The nails were never allowed to grow, even long enough to feel their presence. It had to be practical, always. I envied the beautiful hands on other people that I saw, but in my head, I always convinced myself that I just wasn't in the right phase of my life for that.
So this Mother's Day, I let my hair down and decided it was time to venture a risk. After all, exactly a day after, I was flying out to be away for a week, on my own. No turmeric or red chilli-based gravy to be cooked for a week. No kids crying to get their hair done exactly the way they wanted. Perfect time as any to give caution to the winds and get me some long, sexy nails. Since it's been a while, I told the manicurist to not clip away the dip nails too much. I was very confident when I told him I love the length. He still decided to get the nails on there with some extra reinforcement. Maybe I sounded confident only in my head. But I left the nail salon, a very happy customer! I beamed. I shoved my fingers in everyone's face the rest of that day. I did nothing else but that. My hands had never looked prettier, and I was vain about it.
Come dawn, I took my neatly packed suitcase and drove to the airport. My fingers never really curled around the steering wheel, because I needed to see my pretty nails even while driving. It was all smooth so far. At the TSA line, I had to get my passport out. No biggie. Done it so many times before..but dang it! Never done it with unusually long nails!!!! Something you should know about me - I am not exactly the most careful person when it comes to my personal belongings. In the past, on my return travel from Germany, where I played in the snow with my passport in my jeans pocket, I had to literally beg the officials to allow me to board my return flight home despite a snow-soaked and partially damaged passport. After hearing this story, one of my wedding anniversary gifts from my husband was a passport pouch. I disliked it much then, but it is honestly one of the most useful things I have ever gotten. Until this fateful day! I am next in line for the TSA verification at the airport, and for the life of me, with those impractical long nails, I couldn't dig my passport out from that pouch, no matter how hard I tried!!!! I panicked, I fretted, I allowed others behind me to go ahead and still continued fumbling so damn hard without success.
It took a nice gentleman behind me to actually help me out. He must have honestly thought I was the most incapable person in life ever. Or he probably has a wife with long nails! But eventually, he offered to help me get it out. I was embarrassed but extremely thankful. It was either that or miss my flight!
I was fuming. I exited the security line and took my phone to text my husband about the ordeal I just endured. Surprise! I could no longer text. After many futile attempts, I resorted to voice messaging. From there on, this just snowballed. I ended up calling and adding people to group calls because my finger would dial one number and the nail would dial another at the same time. Any forwards or texts I tried to send would inevitably be sent to at least three other contacts, the distance between the tip of my finger and the tip of my nails! I embarrassed myself at every point. Couldn't get my credit card out for payments. Couldn't get to tie my shoelaces when they came undone. Couldn't eat any food that didn't require forks or spoons. Couldn't even hold on to my coffee mug properly without wincing in pain at the nails digging into my skin. Couldn't even be productive at work because typing on my laptop was like learning a new skill. I was at my wits' end with the nails, but pride wouldn't allow me to cut them. After all, I had paid a handsome amount for it and flaunted it so much to my family that it was too late to show regret or remorse.
Once I was back home, I tried surviving with those damn nails for the weekend, too. But come Monday morning at the gym, when I could no longer lift my precious weights and get a decent workout, I decided enough was enough. Time for that money to go down the drain and for me to finally get some peace of mind. Clipped it away, as hastily as I could. It now looks like a rat chewed on it while I was asleep. Oh! How the mighty has fallen!! My family has teased me about it for days. But I would rather survive that than another minute with those god-awful long nails.
I have newfound respect for all you wonderful girls out there with such pretty and well-manicured long nails. I hope to be one of you one day. I just don't see that day coming around any time soon. I just cannot allow myself to be pinned down by my nails! Au revoir, my dear nails. Until next time. If ever.
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