If I go to get my nails done, I can’t say that I go to get nailed, can I? Tomorrow is my big day. I feel like creating, writing a new chapter of, doing, giving birth to history. I’m going to beauty parlour for nail plates enhancement (whatever it is), filing (not nailing, though), cuticle softening and removal, and shortening of my nail plates. Sounds like a torture squad but I got a guarantee that after the treatment I am going to feel like a new born baby. It somehow didn’t cool me down and I am still like half alive. And it’s all because of the trip to Germany and Italy.
I am 28 and I have never paid my attention to all those beauty treatmets – the highest form of my beuty involvement started when I have begun to apply Hydrafacial and laser hair removal. But these somehow weren’t as stressfull as my first visit to nails point.
I always do my nails all by myself, and for me it is completely OK. And now I decided to do it like a majority of women – does it mean I am going to become a woman in this mostly feminine commonly used sense? Oh, I think I am too excited.
Keep your fingers crossed! I panic so much about the use of nail cutter; it is sharp and if a beautician hurts me then… who would guarntee that I am not going to get any virus? I somehow began to look for a suitable coffin for me – is everything going to be alright?
If so, I’ll be still writing these stories of abolutely abstruse nature!