Dec. 1st, 2018

Nail Junkie

Dec. 1st, 2018 01:11 am
mellicious: pink manicure (nails)
Hi, I'm Mel and I'm a nail junkie.
 
Wanna know what I have on my nails right now? It has many layers - base coat, a couple of layers of KL Polish Cozy In There? and then top-coat - that's the first stage. I wore that for a couple of days and it was chipping so I patched up the chips a bit and then I added a new polish: KL Polish Pisces. Cozy In There (yes, it's a Walking Dead reference) is a blue-gray creme; Pisces is a blue-green shimmer (water-colors, see) so they played very nicely with each other. And I had another new polish I wanted to play with, so one thumbnail also has a coat of a top-coat called Rustling Leaves. It's coppery-looking flakes, and it's very pretty. I'm currently contemplating whether to start over or to just slap Rustling Leaves on top of it all for the weekend.
 
(I own a polish called Nail Junkie. It's a Sinful Colors polish, which means you used to could buy it at Walgreen's etc. for $1.99, but they don't make it any more so now you can't.)
 
Anyway, this isn't actually what I was intending to talk about. I was thinking about it on the way home from work and I was thinking about, among other things, the reason I buy polishes instead of getting manicures. (A guy at work asked me once - in the hearing of his girlfriend, presumably because he expected a different answer - if I saved a lot of money doing my own nails, and I said, "Not the way I do it." That's because I own many, many bottles of nail polish, and while I'm partial to buying stuff on sale, I'm pretty sure the average price is considerably above $1.99.)

You could say I have issues with what I let people do to my body. Nails, hair, massages, all of that kind of thing - it's not actually that I'm averse to being touched, so much as that I'm, well, a little bit of a control freak, I guess? I want to control the way I'm touched and whether you buff my nails and what you do to my hair and my eyebrows (do you know how badly some people have wanted to play with my eyebrows? and they didn't seem to realize that that was at all strange). Yeah, I guess it comes down to control, now that I think about it. I'm sure we could tie that back to my childhood and blah blah blah but let's not go there.
 
Hmm, okay, that's not quite where I meant this to go either. But most of the people that are reading this are probably the same people that have been doing (or just reading) Holidailies for years and it's probably not news to most of you that I'm a little wacky. I was tempted to backspace over part of the parargraph above but I think I'll let it sit.
 
So hi, I'm Mel. Don't try to buff my nails.


 (Some links: KL Polish, Rustling Leaves, somebody else's pictures of Nail Junkie, my own nail blog)
mellicious: "I think the subtext here is rapidly becoming text." (Buffy quote - subtext)
There was an article once, about a political campaign event. This was in 1984. I think the article was in The Austin Chronicle, but I'm not sure about that, it was too long ago. (I might even have a copy of it somewhere, but I haven't looked for it.) The tone of the article was slightly mocking. It wasn't a very exciting event, that's for sure. Among other things it says that there was music. "Five people dance, " it said. You may have guessed by now that I was there. I was one of the five people who danced. I remember reading the article and saying, "Look, y'all, that's us!" and everybody else looked and laughed and agreed that, yeah, it definitely was. We were the only ones who danced.

In 1984 I was out of school and working at the libraries at UT. I would have been 23-going-on-24. Most of my friends were a little younger than me, some in grad school and some undergrads who were just dawdling - it wasn't at all uncommon to take 5 or even 6 years to finish your undergrad degree, if you had parents who would cooperate with that. If you've been reading here in past Decembers, you've seen me talk about going to concerts a lot - this was the period of my life when that most of that happened. I had a little group of friends I hung around with and we did a lot of going to concerts and going to clubs and eating out, the usual stuff for single people in their twenties. (And, if you're wondering about the five people dancing thing, we tended to dance as a group. We were mixed sexes and nobody was a couple. There wasn't always five of us, but when we went where there was dancing, we just all got up and danced without worrying about pairing off.) (I don't think that's unusual nowadays but thirty-odd years ago it still was.)

And we worked on Gary Hart's campaign in 1984. We didn't work on it very hard, mind you - we had jobs and school and all that. We weren't real campaign workers who were there all the time. Some of my friends may have been more involved, but I only remember doing two things - one of which was going to this event, which was at one of the big hotels down on Riverside Drive, and was on a weekend (at least I think it was a weekend) when Gary Hart was actually in Austin. He didn't come to the reception that I talked about above. I don't think we saw him talk or anything, either, because I think I would remember that, if it happened. But we did see him - we were on one walkway in the hotel and he was down below us. We waved and he waved back. That was it.

The other thing was that we gave out flyers or something on the day of the primary. I didn't enjoy that - I'm not good at talking to strangers, generally, much less accosting them with political stuff. Between that, and the way that Hart imploded later on (that happened in 1988, but I had to look it up because I had forgotten), I've never worked on a campaign again. I'm kind of a political junkie - I follow politics closely, and I donate money to various campaigns, but I've never quite been able to bring myself to volunteer again. These days I'm embarrassed to admit that, but it's true. Part of it is a deep-seated conviction that you can't trust individual politicians that came largely from having hitched my wagon to the Gary Hart train long ago.

(I don't know if I'll go see The Front Runner, the movie about Gary Hart. The reviews aren't that great, and I doubt that Rob would be thrilled to go. But it was because of the existence of the movie that it occurred to me to talk about this.)

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