Of nails and hate, are made my day's fails
September 14, 2009
Today I remembered why I had only painted my nails twice in the last year, when it has always been something I enjoy doing…
For the simple reason, that I hate dramarama. I hate it with a vengeance known only by those who dared rise against Sparta only to be crushed at the Gates of Thermopylae.
Perhaps it has to do with always being in the middle, or in the periphery, of some or other useless argument in my home. My father is the specialist of drama and pulls everyone along. In this case though, I understand his point of view and his reasons to an extent; nail polishes do have a very active smell and he has sensitive lungs due to having had asthma. I say had because it seems to be more a case of hypochondria than something else, as he totally forgets he needs the pump while something that interests him is happening, but as soon as it is relevant to someone else he gets all upset and wheezy.
But as I’m not a cold hearted bitch I’ll admit varnish screws his lungs over, however it is not necessary to go around huffing and puffing, booming about the smell of polish and how bad it is and no one has any consideration and blah blah blah…
I was in my room, with the door closed and the window open to ventilate the place. If he would’ve just knocked and said it is bothering me, I would have apologized profusely, taken my stuff and moved to the bathroom (which is only accessible through the small back yard as our house is very old) as the yard has no decent lighting to do anything in it at night.
Unfortunately those are the only two places I can do my nails without bothering his highness, unless his working, and in all honesty there are some nail designs that I need the table to keep my hands steady, and this was one of them, but I stayed in my room doing my nails, literally on top of my knees (so as not to upset him), and ended up rushing the right hand, which is already difficult to do as I’m right handed, so the end result was utter shit.
I’m still keeping the nails as they are, can’t be bothered to clean it all up to do it all over again two days in a row. I’ll just do my nails again next week, so I might as well keep it the way it is, and say bollocks to this all.
In resume, the main fleshy core of this is, don’t bitch to the walls and annoy everyone when you can politely say what bothers you, and people will do their best to respect your wishes.
For the simple reason, that I hate dramarama. I hate it with a vengeance known only by those who dared rise against Sparta only to be crushed at the Gates of Thermopylae.
Perhaps it has to do with always being in the middle, or in the periphery, of some or other useless argument in my home. My father is the specialist of drama and pulls everyone along. In this case though, I understand his point of view and his reasons to an extent; nail polishes do have a very active smell and he has sensitive lungs due to having had asthma. I say had because it seems to be more a case of hypochondria than something else, as he totally forgets he needs the pump while something that interests him is happening, but as soon as it is relevant to someone else he gets all upset and wheezy.
But as I’m not a cold hearted bitch I’ll admit varnish screws his lungs over, however it is not necessary to go around huffing and puffing, booming about the smell of polish and how bad it is and no one has any consideration and blah blah blah…
I was in my room, with the door closed and the window open to ventilate the place. If he would’ve just knocked and said it is bothering me, I would have apologized profusely, taken my stuff and moved to the bathroom (which is only accessible through the small back yard as our house is very old) as the yard has no decent lighting to do anything in it at night.
Unfortunately those are the only two places I can do my nails without bothering his highness, unless his working, and in all honesty there are some nail designs that I need the table to keep my hands steady, and this was one of them, but I stayed in my room doing my nails, literally on top of my knees (so as not to upset him), and ended up rushing the right hand, which is already difficult to do as I’m right handed, so the end result was utter shit.
I’m still keeping the nails as they are, can’t be bothered to clean it all up to do it all over again two days in a row. I’ll just do my nails again next week, so I might as well keep it the way it is, and say bollocks to this all.
In resume, the main fleshy core of this is, don’t bitch to the walls and annoy everyone when you can politely say what bothers you, and people will do their best to respect your wishes.
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