tell” I had to give an overview of our software package at a client today. I got along well with the girl I was training, but instinctively I felt bad for her. Her desk was festooned with Disney paraphernalia. Dopey dispensed her tape. Grumpy gave out staples. A billion dollar mouse stared out from her mouse pad. Her pen had mouse ears.
It’s very strange to me to see a viable businesswoman, very professional and articulate, covering her workstation with such swag. Swag she paid for. It makes me wonder what would attract someone to display this part of their personality to the world, to their office coworkers. Is this overbearing cuteness somehow a substitute for personality for people.
This coming from the woman who has a chubby Tinkerbelle on her online diary page and plastic dinosaurs marauding across the top of her cubicle.
Is it just a millennial equivalent of a totem? Does it invoke some sort of spirit of jovial rodents and cranky ducks with adorable lisps or does it speak to a different need’ a need to belong, a need to be sorted and slotted into categories’ Disney versus Non-Disney’ Childlike versus non-childlike.
I still have writer’s block. I don’t currently have the wherewithal to wrap this up in a tidy little package, so instead I’ll direct you to stare at my Chubby Tink and see how cute she is.
Yesterday, I took the day off of work because for whatever reason, I go ballistic in January and become overwhelmed with everything. I was stressed. I’m not entirely de-stressed now, but I’m far less stressed than I was in the beginning of the week. Hence the writer’s block. Hence the stress zit on my lip.
I get these little weird fever blister things on my lips when I’m stressed. I had them every school year during high school. I had them for entire months in my last position. I had them every finals week in college. Not cold sores. Not herpes. Just weird little lip pimples. And I’ve got one now. Mostly, it has to do with the fact that I’ve been running on 11 for the entire month of December and now there’s nothing but months and months of darkness and sobering frigid weather to look forward to. Also, my kitchen is currently a war zone, covered in fine white drywall dust and looking like a fugitive of a calamine lotion fight at sleep away camp.
But I haven’t chewed on my nails.
Yet.
They want me to chew them. They’re screaming for oral pleasure.
The only thing that is keeping me from biting is the fact that I have them polished a lovely Cerise Noire’.. which is ‘Black Cherry’ for us hicks. Since I’ve been polishing them, I’ve had less of an urge to bite them because they look so purty. I have a bet with June’s friend Nancy, who officially owns the title of Sweetest Woman On The Planet, that my nails will look nicer and longer than hers by Valentines Day. At that point, she will buy me some Strawberries & Champagne lotion from Victoria’s Secret. Because that’s the only thing in that store that I could wear on my curvy round body.
Anyway, it’s not the lotion I care about. I’m not overly fond of it. I like my Snow scented stuff from The Body Shop better. It has sparkles in it, but not big offensive Christina Aguilera sparkles’ little effervescent magical sparkles.
Twice before in my life, I was able to stop chewing my nails. The first time was when I was in college and dating two boys at once. Mike had a fingernail fetish. Mike had actually many fetishes’ one of which was long painted fingernails. Another was sheer stockings. He especially liked painted toenails INSIDE nylons. His favorite thing was to have me put my nylon covered legs in his lap and then wiggle my painted toenails. Another was apparently him wearing nylons, but I didn’t find that out until after I had dumped him.
Another cessation of nail biting was five years ago. I decided that it was time’ I was a quarter of a century old and I needed to abandon my childhood vices. I grew a beautiful set of nails and the watched my grandmother die in the hospital. At the funeral, someone told me that I must have had fake nails because no one could grow such perfect nails. I hated that. I hated having pretty nails when I felt so horrible and cold. I bit them off the next day.
Thus, here we go again. It’s probably why I have a stress zit. I’m not allowing for a natural stress reliever of chewing on my digits. It’s a gross habit though. I was shopping a few months back and saw a well-dressed girl gnawing on her finger; pulling skin off and spitting it out and I wanted to shout, ‘Stop that! You look disgusting!’ but I didn’t because I don’t want to be a mean girl. Besides, I’ve probably unconsciously looked exactly the same way.
Anyway, I really like my Black Cherry nail polish. It is my very favorite. It is exactly the same kind of polish that Mia Wallace wore when she danced the twist at Jack Rabbit Slims with Vincent Vega and then snorted a bunch of heroin and had an overdose.
I’m not saying I want to be her or anything. I’m just saying she had nice fashion sense.
Plus, I think every girl would go for a $5 shake?
