I'm An Addict

I need you to know about an addiction of mine, and just so we're clear... an addiction is the state of being enslaved to a habit or practice or to something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming, to such an extent that its cessation causes severe trauma.

All addicts have a story, you know. A gateway drug. The beginning of the end.

For me, it started in 1991 with an ex-real-estate mogul with the mostest, my grandma's twin. Are you picturing a Century 21 billboard with a larger than life glamour shot of a high-maintenance woman looking over her shoulder in some ridiculous position, yet her smile still says, this is the most comfortable position I have ever been in ?? Yep, that's Aunt J, with a big red lipstick smile, short n' sassy auburn hair and reading glasses. (and she also had this fascinating silver necklace with a roof that opened on a mini-hinge that she'd let us play with all the time ... it had 2 silver chairs and a table inside that were freely floating about the 1 sq.in. ... is that weird? ...)

It was one cold afternoon in 1991 on Uncle J's back porch that I had a deep conversation with her (as deep as an 8 year old can get anyway), about how important it is to have nice nails and its reflection on your femininity and class. She proceeded to tell me that she paid her granddaughters $100 to stop biting their nails. Um excuse me? They were paid to grow nice nails, people. Now why couldn't the stork have put me in her direct lineage?? So I took matters into my own hands -pun intended- and said something like well, I bite my nails too which I didn't but I want to stop, Aunt J. Now it's not quite clear whether we actually shook on it, but my 8 year old brain just knew we verbally committed to a $100 transaction pending long, strong nails at the next family reunion. Something must have been lost in translation because she never paid up.... but she did create a monster.... a nail monster.

My name is Smartash and I am an addict. I am addicted to Nail Upkeep.

Clippers, hand lotions galore, cuticle tools, clear polish with vitamins for added strength... but the fairest of them all? The Nail File. Nails are body art. Like tattoos. 10 little masterpieces right there on your phalanges. Without the Nail File, sculpting soft, smooth, precise edges would be virtually impossible, and without soft, smooth, precise edges, you will never bring people back-scratching pleasure or have a pretty engagement ring picture... can you imagine a life without those things?? and don't pull the acrylics card on me here. Au natural is where it's at.

I file as a study break, during lunch breaks, while bathing, reading a magazine. Every chance I get, I will file. If I get a snag, I can't focus on anything else until I get my hands on 1 of my 7 nail files strategically placed along my life's path (in my car, in my purse, at my desk, in my bathroom, everywhere). If I have a blonde moment and forget a file, I will swipe my injured nail back and forth as quickly as possible on the closest textured surface to hold me over until I'm reunited with my Knight In Shining Emery Board.

So, you know what I wish for you? I wish that through the lense of my passion, you see how important nail upkeep should be to you and yours. Share the message, my friends.

And you know what I wish for me? I wish I would pay the same attention to my feet.



In other news, I drove the company car to San Antonio this weekend... not the coolest of cars, but it was still brand new. I was supposed to return it to security upon arrival to work on Tuesday morning. Instead, I took it shopping during lunch and returned it at 3pm. I'm just sayin. It's important that I confess that to someone.