Perspective

 8/23/13

 About a month ago I found myself at one of my more unique friends house. I only italicize not because I think she's a bit off the rail (which she is), but because I can't really find any other way to describe her. She's a good time, to say the least.
     She'd been looking at some nail designs before I arrived and naturally made me her guinea pig. Eventually I looked down at what she was doing (I was previously occupied with stuffing my face with chips) to notice that the nail polish on my index finger was, no joke, halfway down the finger. Initially, I was shocked I hadn't felt her major blunder. The power of food to preoccupy the mind is incredible...but it then also dawned upon me that she had to be aware of this catastrophe as well.
     After staring at her for several minutes believing she'd eventually acknowledge me (she didn't), I asked what she was doing. She simply looked up at me and shrugged, "I don't know. It just kind of happened."
     She said it so casually I wasn't sure if I should laugh or be worried. So, with the beckoning chips nearby, I decided to react as equally nonchalant as her. Two movies later we said our goodbyes and I went back home, the disastrous "manicure" still intact.
     I don't know why, but I kept my nails (and skin) like that until the paint eventually chipped/washed away. Every time I think about it, it makes me realize how much easier it was for her to go past the nail, to ignore the possibility of perfection.
     So now, whenever I find the energy to do my own nails, I don't particularly focus on getting the polish only on my nails. If the brush happens to slip, I just smile, and remember that eventually it will wash away.