We
are all born with fingernails. When I was a child, I bit my nails. When I was
about 12 years old, my mom had a friend who also babysat us kids now and then.
Her fingernails were long and red and beautiful. I loved them. I was envious.
She told me if I stopped biting my fingernails, she would show me how to do
mine and eventually they would be long and beautiful too.
I
did. I stopped biting and she kept her promise. She taught me how to push back
the cuticles, file my nails and apply polish. For the next 38 years, every
Sunday night I would spend two hours preparing my nails for the coming week.
In
high school, my first two semesters of typing class were taught by a man and he
didn’t care how long my fingernails were as long as I passed the tests and
moved forward. For my third and final semester, I had this old woman. At the beginning of the first class, she came around and
told those of us with fingernails to cut them. I ignored her. Finally, she told
me on a Friday if she could see my nails over the end of my fingers on Monday,
I would get an automatic fail for the semester.
I
went home and whined and carried on to my parents. I don’t believe either of
them finished high school. To them, teachers were Gods and I should obey what
this woman said. If either of my sons had been given some form of ultimatum
having to do with their appearance, I would have been at the school the
following day to talk about their rights as individuals to shave their heads,
pierce their ears or paint their nails.
So,
Sunday night, I removed the polish and cut my nails back as far as possible.
The old bat checked them first thing on Monday. From that point forward, I
couldn’t type…I. Just. Could. Not. Type. I failed every single typing test. I was going
to fail the class even though I’d cut my nails off. To give that woman her due,
she did let me retake the typing tests once my nails grew back. I did pass the
class. Eventually, during my career, I believe I typed well over 120 words a
minute and still type really fast.
When
I turned 50, my body changed in some way. I’d do my nails on Sunday evening and
by Tuesday, there would be two to four nails that had broken, peeled or looked
horrible. I didn’t want to spend any more time fixing my nails.
That’s when my future daughter-in-law introduced me to acrylic nails. Oh. My.
God!!! I couldn’t believe how wonderful they were.
For
$15, I could go every two weeks and have my nails done…even at three weeks,
they still looked good. I found a woman I liked and went to her for years. She
moved her salon and I moved with her. One day when I went in for my fill (that’s
where they add acrylic at the base of the nail), she wasn’t there. Instead,
there was a man (Peter), his wife (Chi) and their three-year-old daughter
(Emily). They would do for me they said…and they did.
Their
salon was the cleanest and tidiest salon I have ever patronized. I went to them
for more than 13 years. Peter did my fingers and Chi did my toes. Emily kept me
company when I my fingernails dried under the light. We exchanged gifts
at Christmas. I watched Emily grow up into a very smart and pretty young woman
who is now attending the University of Washington. I always remembered her birthday
because my granddaughter was exactly 11 months younger than Emily. For one
month they were the same age. They also knew Haley because on our annual special event...The Nutcracker...I'd take Haley in for a manicure.
The
time came where they needed to change their lives around. Peter got a job with the Shoreline School District. Chi could not run the salon by herself, so
they sold it. I surely missed having them in my life, but we've stayed in touch
which is how I know what Emily is doing.
When
I retired, I had Peter remove the acrylics. I was going to go au natural. I
tried, believe me I tried, but I simply cannot do stuff without fingernails.
Even after enough time had passed for the acrylic damage to wear off, my nails
were as they’d become at 50…thin, brittle, peeling. So, back to Peter I went.
When they sold their salon, I
tried the new owner, but she did a horrible job on my nails. I didn’t go back.
I tried another salon where the owner did a nice job on my nails, but I ended
up getting toenail fungus from getting pedicures. Let me tell you that fungus
isn’t the least bit fun. I ended up going to a podiatrist and applying a drop
of medication to my big toes every night. The medication is expensive and it
took well over two, almost three years for my toes to grow back normal. I do my
own toes now.
My
daughter-in-law continued to get her nails done during this time. We never went
to the same salon, so I asked her where she went. Tried it, didn’t like it. She
mentioned her coworkers went to a place in Mountlake Terrace. I looked up nail
salons and there were three. I chose one and went in. Than is, without compare,
the best nail person I’ve ever had. My nails are thin, look completely natural
and gorgeous when she does them. She went back to Vietnam for three weeks and I
had to go someplace else while she was gone. I tried one of the other salons near her…nope a really
bad job.
This
brings me to the whole point of this post. It’s been almost three months since
I last saw Than. My nails have grown. I’ve filed them back to a reasonable
length several times. Now, four of what’s left of the acrylic nails have come
off. I have no nails on those fingers. Wouldn’t you know it’s my right thumb, index and middle fingers and the index on the left. I keep trying to pick up stuff with those fingers,
but I cannot grasp anything. It’s infuriating. I cannot feel that they’re gone,
so I keep trying to grasp whatever it is and the item appears to be glued in place.
Finally,
my hands are just plain ugly. People have always commented on what nice hands,
nice manicures, etc., I’ve had. They certainly wouldn’t do that now. I’ve seen
nothing about when the nail salons can re-open. I have no idea if Than will even be
able to reopen her salon. If she cannot, then I’ll need to search out someone
again. Or, at my age, does it really matter if my hands look great? Probably
not. Surely, I can learn how to do stuff without long fingernails…lots of
people do. I guess you could say it’s my one vanity…I’d like to keep it, please
and thank you very much.