A few things that went through my mind while reading this morning's post. I'll spare you the extremely boring bits and just share the moderately boring ones.
Mondonna's answer to J's admiration of her nails was 'Get polish?'. And J was impressed by that? J has heaps of polish. She 'gets' polish on a fundamental level. Oh, oh I see. It actually says GEL polish. That makes more sense.
Then, in response to that photo:
J has such lovely hands. What a lovely nailpolish colour. So right for winter.
Then, after gazing at my hands:
Stupid peasant hands. You are the hands of a woman who comes from a long line of potato gleaners. Why can't you be more like your crabsister J's mitts?
Then, when it transpired that Chickpea joined J at Tips and Toes:
What a magical night! That would have been taking place while I was watching At World's End, the shittest movie ever at a cinema in Manly on Friday night. I was wishing the world would end while those guys' lives were just beginning, sort of.
Then, when I saw the photo of the chipped nails:
Oh, poor J. I must tell her that I know some people who, after a few manicures, choose their favourite colour and buy a bottle. They take the bottle with them to Tips and Toes or wherever and then can patch up if needs be. It's smart thinking. I must tell J about that.
And this is me telling J about that.
The dream is NOT over.
It's just a modified one where you either can't try heaps of new colours when you get a fortnightly manicure, or you can't do house renos in the days after.
But apart from those restrictions the dream is very much alive.