I’m quite glad I did this manicure, inspired by an old beaded ring I recently dug out of jewelry box purgatory, earlier in the week, before I suffered one of those dumbass injuries that smarts like the dickens, leads to the temporary uselessness of at least a couple of limbs and leaves you rightfully questioning the life decisions that led up to this moment. Like the decision to try to brute force my refrigerator out of its nook without realizing that it was quite firmly caught on something. Or the decision, once I noted that it was quite firmly caught on something, to try to HULK it up and over the obstruction, like I was The Rock’s friggin’ weenie Canadian cousin or something. I think you can see where this is going.
Which would be straight on through to Dumbass Injury Land, where I’m now sitting in quite uncomfortable forearm agony. Yes, my FOREARMS. Two days on and I still can’t register any sensation in my hands, wrists or forearms other than pain. I can’t form a tight fist without sort of feeling like I’m about to pass out. Typing this has proven to be a rather exquisite form of torture!
Anyhow, super glad I got this one done before I succumbed to my own idiocy. Seriously kids, don’t try to dead lift your large appliances; it will not end well.
Right, so this manicure was inspired by this ring I bought, oh, 20 or so years ago from a designer who worked and sold out of the Byward Market Building in Ottawa, Ontario. I add that detail because I cannot remember her name and I don’t believe she’s even working out of Ottawa any more; her booth in the Market Building disappeared many years ago (but if anyone knows of her name, please hit me up!) I’ve actually got quite a few of her pieces, and they’re all weird, colourful and maybe just a little bit too much. Wait till you see the beaded choker I’ll hopefully be able to show to you in a few days’ time once any sensation other than pain has returned to my forearms. Until then, as always, nail art!
2 thoughts on “Dumbass. Also Ooh, Pretty Ring!”
Oh no! Total Beavis move (that’s my term of endearment when I don’t wanna call someone a Butthead, used on the teens I worked with on occasion, although Beavis would have never attempted moving the fridge, he’d just let his food spoil and eat crumbs from the couch).
Hope your forearms regain their she-woman capability soon. No need to type a reply, save your strength;)
Heh. Heheheheheheh — *giant slap upside the head”