Thursday, April 30, 2009
I am actually blogging about my fingernails.
I can not even believe how boring and trivial that is. If I am this boring as an art student, I wonder how boring I will be as a middle aged person. (It is not ageist. Middle aged people routinely have midlife crises from the pressure and boredom of their lives and commitments. Not all of them, but definitely the Writing About Trimming My Fingernails crowd gets in too much of a rut by like 45, and then they crack.)
Okay. I have long awesome strong nails. All the time. They grow fast, I clip them only every week or so, and they are really nice colors and have nice nail beds and smile lines, such that covering them with nail polish makes them less pretty.
When I was a cellist this was a problem, because you are supposed to use your fingertip, not your finger pad, to press down properly and do vibrato and whatever. The last time I had nails as short as right now was when I was 14 and my cello teacher refused to start teaching me vibrato until I cut them all the way down. Having to press on the metal wrapped strings with my newly exposed nerve endings was so bad. Just, soooo bad. So I never did it again.
Fast Forward six years! My nails got so so bad. Catching the unicycle messes up my right middle and index fingernail. I have to wash my hands a lot in art class. And I have started nervously putting my left thumbnail, middle fingernail, index fingernail between my teeth and twisting. I am not biting them off, but it makes them split. I have been wearing nail polish just to make my nails a little reinforced. Today I broke my left middle fingernail while closing my trunk. (I also hit myself in the chin closing my car door today. The back of my chin. That is how jawtastic I am.) I kind of think there might be a nutritional deficit in play. Maybe I should buy a multi vitamin, because I am doing my best already at balanced but low effort meals.
Today since I had two totally broken off nail tips I cut my nails on those fingers All the Way Down. Then I cut off all my other nails (I am so bored right now. I am sorry.). Then I cut them down even farther, until the smile line became too small a length to be discussed in terms of millimeters. They are like .35 millimeters. I ran my fingers through my hair- gah. Skin crawling. My fingertips are too sensitive. It's like if someone peeled off all my skin and then I hopped in the shower. Too intense. You can see the ends of my fingers way out past the nail. It is weird.
I care kind of a lot about nails, actually. I have reviewed all of my nail polishes on makeupalley.org (My username is calisparkle, which I believe I chose facetiously. It's ironic, see, because I live in a beach town in california, right, and I have an affinity for shimmery or sparkly body lotion, mist, bronzer, and whatever.) I am so fixated on my nails that I have done a sketch for an abstracted portrait of my thumbs.