for our trip to hawaii
my sister convinced me to get my nails done.
i thought she was just too lazy to glue my press-ons for me,
but she had a convincing argument
so off to the nail salon we went.
twenty bucks later and i was a regular miss fancy pants.
lazy or not,
she was right.
my press-ons wouldn't have lasted ten days
in the humidity, ocean and sand.
i also hate to admit that after my first few awkward days of,
"ohmygoooosh, everything thinks i'm a beezy."
"no. these nails were a mistake. i look like a brat."
i started to actually enjoy having them.
and they didn't stab my eyeballs once!!!
about a week after we got back from our trip,
i knew it wouldn't be long before i had get rid of them.
the natural nail space between cuticle
and acrylic was starting to get ridiculous.
taking off acrylics is the worst.
it's honestly the main reason
(other than the risk of a retina stab
and the dolla-dolla bill factor)
i don't get my nails done.
i hate spending an entire afternoon
soaking and scraping and filing
in hopes of getting all the acrylic to disappear.
due to my severe hatred of acrylic nail removal,
i avoided it for weeks.
i told myself lies and excuses,
justifying my procrastination.
it wasn't until we were at kylee's farewell
that cory looked down and actually saw my nails.
he scrunched up his face in slight disgust and disbelief and said,
"we need to get those filled or taken off.
that's like a full half an inch.
you look like a junior high girl
who just got her nails done for the first time
and refuses to take them off."
the next day i went to the store,
bought acetone, sat my butt in front of the television
and got to work.
i meant to take a picture of the grow-out but kept forgetting.
you'll just have to trust me (and cory),
it wasn't pretty.
oh, and here's a fun fact for those interested,
there is still acrylic on my fingers.
i'm afraid it will never, ever come off.