Sunday, December 30, 2012

The Moment When I Knew I Was a Lady

"I broke a nail"  has been the stereotypical phrase to exemplify the ultimate in female-ness. Used in millions of school yard antics and improv scenes, it's pretty much a parody. But it isn't because breaking nails do happen. And most often it happens to women, since they are the most common ones with long nails.

I broke a nail this week. But not in the high-pitched "OMG, I can't do that I might break a nail way." I did in the "Oh damn, these 50 lb storage tubs of casters slipped out of my hand and tore my thumbnail half way in the nail bed." 

But to most people those are six to one, half a dozen to the other. Or however that phrase goes.

Either way, I had a tear in my thumbnail right in the center of my nail bed. Aesthetics its aside, the tron nail was threatening to tear all the way off, leaving me with no nail on my thumb.

Ouch. A  nailless thumb. I wouldn't be able to itch all my itches with my famous ten finger itch. Also the odds of my right thumb tip folding back on itself just increased by a number. In addition to the fact that tearing that broken thumb nail off would pull all the way to that translucent layer of thumb skin that is half-way between nail and skin so it's really flexible but doesn't hold up to pressure. You know the layer, I don't know why I am describing it.

The blog post isn't about my broken nail. It's about how I fixed my broken nail.

I have this tear in my thumbnail from lifting heavy irregular things. I still have to lift heavy irregular things all week, so the threat of complete involuntary nail removal is paramount.

I must fix this nail. Quality of scratching my cat depends on it. This is how I knew I wasn't a lady.

From previous experiments, I know that nail polish also is not a strong enough adhesive to hold this bent tear in place. I'd tries many times before, with dreams of tacking the nail down with clear nail polish and no on being the wiser and my nail safe from folding backedness.

I needed a splint. Of course, I turned to my old stand by of all things that need fixing, Scotch tape. I tore a small piece of Scotch tape to create a new foundation over the severed nail.

Now that I had a smooth surface, I needed to protect and mend as much as I could. I survey my nail polish colors and picked out a pale shimmer pink, knowing that as pale as it is, it still wasn't going to pass as an unmanicured hands. But I was out of clear nail polish! I would have to pretend that I am an accidental nail polish wearing.  Pale shimmer pink it is.

I shellacked my Scotch taped nail with 5 (and counting) layers of paint. The build up of all the layers hide the edges of tape finger nail.

Of course, painting this one nail meant I had to coordinate the other 9 folks (finger nails)

Here is where the story loses interest. I painted my nails sort of pink. I have so many layers on the tape that it made me feel like we were going to the Grand Canyon on Elevate the Elderly (this is a made up TV show, I am willing to make it happen it you will produce it.)

So I fixed my nail, just like what any lady would do.

Next but: Cure for the Common noise.

PostScript added 12/13/12: I totally fell asleep while writing this post. In my sleepstate I corrected a number of error but clearly my sleeping self thinks there needs to be a cure for the common noise.

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