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So, yeah, had my nails done today and wow, I love ‘em. I‘m kinda scared of typing even, but there is certainly no chance of me using the other type of keyboard that features heavily in my life, the one with the black and white keys. I’d have to play it with my palms at the moment, which would probably sound a bit of a mess.
It’s nice to have long nails again, they have never been this perfect; all the same length, beautifully coloured (in my trademark, beloved burgundy), and feeling strong and healthy. Even though they aren’t really, they look and feel real! So good in fact, I almost wish I could get into a cat-fight with someone just so I could scratch their eyes out, but not quite; I’m not really that type of person, despite having suitable nails for it.
We both went for gels over acrylics, a fiver difference in price. Gillian went for the French manicure, which looks fantastic and probably more classy than my tarty red claws. But I still love 'em just the same. I’m sure they will look great digging into the back of some hunky rasta guy…
Sorry mum, I am only joking, honest!
On the way back from the nail bar, I popped into Kendal’s classiest beauty salon and booked a leg wax. Oh my god what have I done? I’ve never been waxed before. How hard can it be…? (Famous last words). Still, gotta look my best for the beach. I normally epilate, but it takes ages, it’s a drag, I don’t wanna do it with my gorgeous talons, I can’t be bothered anyway… and if my nails look so much better done professionally then maybe my legs will too. Oh god what have I done…
The things we do in the name of beauty eh.
I shall try not to think about the impending torture treatment for the next couple of days, and whilst it’s being done I shall lie back and think of Jamaica...
Rum punch, white-gold beaches, burgundy nails, hunky man’s back…
Just a few more days to go before we jet off. Must decide what to wear; obviously I have nothing in any of my three wardrobes, various cupboards, hidey-holes and organised-chaotical piles of clothes. Then must think about packing my case – v e r y c a r e f u l l y; nasty zips on that thing. 15 kilos limit, what a bugger. How’s a girl expected to survive for two weeks with only 15 kilos of clothes?
Anyway, I had my last day at work yesterday before my hols. So with the nails to prove it – I am now officially a lady of leisure.
For something by which to remember me while I’m gone, like anyone’s gonna miss me… here’s a pic my mum took last night. Our very handsome singer and myself proving that rock n’ roll ain’t all "thrash and pose". We love what we do, we play it like we mean it, cos we do.
xx
