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April 06, 2008
adventures in feminity
About a month ago, I decided to get acrylics in anticipation of my 30th birthday celebration in Vegas. For someone who has a difficult time maintaining an orderly abode, I have a peculiar obsession with finding a suitable manicurist for the plastic on my fingers. First I went to a crappy salon in Long Beach that put on the acrylics in a slap dash manner, leaving me to wonder how much crud could possibly grow between my nail bed and the plastic. Then, encouraged by a friend, I spent far too much money to have them filled at the spa in the Planet Hollywood hotel. That was the best manicure so far in this round of acrylic adventures, but since I live in LA and can't afford to spend half my salary on this endeavor, I had my second fill at the salon in the mall that my mother frequents. Alas, I did not follow her advice entirely; instead of waiting for her manicurist, I took the first available who decided that Watching Soap Operas Was Just As Important as Doing My Nails. So, now they are uneven and without curves. Alas, I am afraid I must return to an overpriced salon to get the type of manicure that will appease my exacting eye.
Which makes me wonder. Really? Is this what my life has turned into? Distracting myself from the e-newsletter I should be editing by spending time getting my (new) car washed and my nails painted? I suppose a 5 year illegal occupation on top of decades of noncompliance with international norms can cause many to despair of ever creating real change in this country. Me, I've learned to temper my activism with some good ol' fashioned materialism. The combination allows me to sleep well at night, albeit alone.
Posted by cj at April 6, 2008 11:10 PM