Nailed it
I did a dumb thing. Granted, it’s par for the course, but, this particular week included a world champion blunder. If there’s a Super Bowl of Stupidity, I would be sizing up my ring.
It all started with a grooming accident. I didn’t want long fingernails. I didn’t want to walk around looking like Cynthia Erivo. Mostly, because I can’t sing, and I would hate it if anyone confused us. The Academy Award-nominated actor has ungodly long fingernails (no research has been conducted to discover if her nails are real or fake). Cynthia’s nails aren’t the longest, however, that record goes to Diana Armstrong.
Side note: Diana Armstrong from Minnesota has the record for the longest fingernails on a pair of hands ever (male or female). The previous record-holder, also an American woman, was in Guinness until a car accident in 2009 took her nails. Though, in all fairness, she could have just as easily lost her nails typing on a computer. That’s how most of my female friends lose them.
For the record, Armstrong’s fingernails are longer than a standard yellow school bus. I find it ironic that her last name is Armstrong, when you’d probably need strong arms to lift school-bus-length fingernails. If I could stomach it, I’d watch a documentary about how she gets through her day. I don’t know how you even pour a cup of coffee when your fingernails are longer than a limo. I’d have to close my eyes through half of it, especially the part where she has to use toilet paper.
But I digress, like I do. In my attempt to be the opposite of people like Cynthia Erivo and Diana Armstrong, I went too far. I cut my fingernails too short. It’s one thing to cut one nail too short, but, of course, I cut all 10 too short. That’s the recording-breaking nonsense I mentioned earlier. Someone will have to keep me away from the clippers!
I can’t pick up any dimes. I dropped one dime. I didn’t smash a piggy bank on the floor, but, nonetheless, I can’t pick it up because I cut my nails to the quick. I cut them so close, I can feel the cold weather underneath my fingernails.
Because of my pathetic attempt at self-grooming, I learned a new word, hyponychium. It’s the newish-looking skin under the nail. The little pink line of skin that shouldn’t be exposed to air.
It hurts to type this. I wonder if Cynthia Erivo types much. Maybe she types out emails between songs, sends texts after belting out “Defying Gravity?”
The good news is that in a few days I’ll be back to normal, or, at least, normal for me. Fingernails grow quickly.
Additional side note: Did you know that hair and fingernails grow faster in the summer months? Like tomatoes! Temperature affects your circulation, which speeds growth.
I was considering titling this column, “The pedicure is worse than the disease,” but the bad pun is beneath me.