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Shitty manicure foretold Ledger’s demise!
By ELB | January 23, 2008
Let’s just start with this:
Hell to the yes! Nothing crippling depression likes more than a kickin’ fever blister. They always show up in times of extreme stress or light sickness. My sister has never had one, but she gets pink eye semi-regularly. I fully call it a draw.
Over-exposure to the sun will also bring the pain. Once, when I worked at the Clinique counter, I sustained an impressive sun burn and subsequent cold sore. Then I had to slip on the lab coat and sell make-up to scornful women. I may or may not have been blonde.
So, Monday, in preparation for what would eventually turn out to be a doomed job interview, I went and got a sub par haircut. I didn’t know it was going to be sub par when I was going in there, but that’s where things wound up. While I was there, I figured I’d get a conservative manicure, because once I read that women with red nails don’t get jobs or some shit like that. Well, the salon had no mani times available, so I went out in search of some other place to do my nails. I ended up in a salon filled with Russians.
Everyone was very nice and the place was clean, but, yeah, Russians. All the ladies had real skinny jeans and severe frosted shags. Well, all of them except for the ones getting their eggplant rinses touched up. The guy at the desk told me to wait a minute, then, when it was time, led me to the little table. The girl there was really lovely, no joking, she was legit pretty. And spoke very little English.
She filed my nails into pointy ovals. Since I was going for style, not fun, I looked for shimmery nude shades. The selection was limited, let’s say it ran heavy toward the burgundy end of the spectrum. I finally opted for three to four coats of french manicure top coat, hastily applied with what can only be called a pecking motion. She forewent the base coat.
I’m pretty sure the fact that it was 2 degrees out was the only reason I managed to get home without smearing the whole job right off. My nails reminded me of all the times I put my Mom’s Erace concealer stick on my lips. My Mom isn’t real into cosmetics, so I had to experement with what she had.
It’s ridiculous, but my crap for crap nails bugged the hell out of me the whole next day. They looked lumpy and, well, not worth the $15. I was cranky. I only wish I could have honored Heath by having flawless nails.
Topics: dammit., Laments | 5 Comments »
January 23rd, 2008 at 11:43 pm
gah. I feel your pain with the cold sores/fever blisters. I suffered my whole life until I found Zovirax. Then, I wanted to kill all my doctors that I had seen for all the years leading up to that point. It’s a prescription medication with virtually zero side effects (no stomach upset, etc.), except it kicks the ass out of cold sores and makes them go away in like 2 days. OR if you take it when you start feeling the tickle or at the first sign, take one right away and you never get a blister. I thought “oh, well, no one ever told me because I was obviously too poor to pay for it.” Uh, no. The generic brand costs like $1 to fill. UGH! And my old HMO would allow for me to consult a nurse by telephone and she could call in a script for me.
Seriously, it’s the best thing ever. And this is from the girl who once has a blister IN HER NOSE. So, I know from cold sore pain. The best at-home remedy is ice. It freezes the virus juice in there and keeps it from spreading. Hey! Look at me! I can write a book on herpes care!! What a lovely distinction!
ALSO, I am the Queen of Overpaying for Shitty Manicures. So, again…. *sigh* poor Erin and Heath.
January 23rd, 2008 at 11:50 pm
I have a cold sore, too!
(exclamation point because I really am excited about it. can you tell?)
January 24th, 2008 at 10:32 am
I take Zovirax daily. Not for cold sores. Or at least, not for cold sores on my face.
I buy it cheap as shit in Mexico, so if anyone wants, holla.
January 24th, 2008 at 12:05 pm
I think it’s quite possible that the more depressed you get, the funnier you become. I once read somewhere that comedians all take nerve pills. Making us laugh is another way they medicate.
I’m sorry you didn’t get that job. But I’m not sorry you aren’t working for that tool who had the tight, empty sack to ask you what your biggest challenge was in life and how did you overcome it.
January 25th, 2008 at 5:42 pm
What the fuck, dude. Why are we still all “women with red nails” blah blah blah horseshit? Ugh. Can we move past this gender thing for just, like, a second? Jesus. Stupid country.