Memo to self …….

….. don’t ever get acrylic nails again.  Before I left Cuenca I attended the 25th anniversary bash of the college I’d been teaching at for the previous nine months.  As a lot of us hadn’t had a chance to dress up for some time we decided to make a real effort.

As part of my effort I had acrylic nails for the first time ever.  Long and beautifully decorated in colours to match my dress.  They looked good.  I was happy with them on the night.

I then discovered there were certain drawbacks to said nails.  It was impossible for me to put in, or take out, earrings without a high risk of dropping them on the floor for example.  Inserting contact lenses became a dangerous occupation.

But the biggest problem was when they started to grow out.  My nails grow quickly.  Soon two of the acrylic tips were regularly catching on things and eventually bent my own nails back to such an extent it was incredibly painful to perform the most everyday of tasks: taking money out of my wallet; trying to find something in my backpack.

Luckily in Mexico City I located a very helpful nail salon who swiftly removed my offending false nails.  My real nails, which were pretty crap to begin with, looked even worse once freed up.  The two injured ones had to be cut back practically to the quick (by me, the nail salon did not want to do it) to avoid them catching and ripping off in blood and anguish.  They are still pretty short and when I remember I paint nail strengthener on them.

Well, that pretty much confirms my belief in the overall troublesomeness of cosmetics and enhancing one’s appearance generally.

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