Bubble Bath

Firemen are strange sometimes. J. saw Giada DeLaurentiis' nail polish on TV. We were on the phone. So he says, you need to check her fingernails out. What? I quick click the Slingbox thingy on, and try to find Food Network. Her nails? Okay well I did not find it on time. Nor was I all that interested.

He watches her on Food Network while he's at work. She's like, um, confusing? She's mixing this meatloaf with her hands and her breasteses are peeking at us from over her low cut blouse. Sure, she's smiling with her gigantic teeth and fluttery eyelashes and her glossy long hair's just everywhere. Something about that makes me think, ick, it's in the food. Her hair, I mean, I want to like Giada. I just don't. I'm sure she's a delightful person. Whatever.

 I told him she looks exactly like Natalie Portman. Natalie Portman diffuses the situation slightly for me. Natalie's so young, Giada is older than me. Not that there is a situation. I choose not to be jealous about J's fondness for TV food porn star Giada.


They're pinkish white, he says. Well I have that color, I said. So I painted my nails, but that wasn't quite right. So the other day at Walgreens we were there for some photographic stuff and shopped around and picked up some white. Too liquid paper. So then I mixed up a little bit of that white in some leftover base coat and some other pinkish something something. Too yuck.

I tried.

Okay so then I forgot about it.  But he didn't. "Something's coming for you in the mail," he said.
I always love it when he says that!
Sure enough, in the mail arrived two bottles of OPI nail lacquer in Bubble Bath. I Googled the color and brand name, trying to find instructions on how many coats to apply, and noticed something. I guess lots of people like her particular nailcolor. I noticed there are discussions about it on other people's blogs.

He sent me nail polish. I was delighted.
So he sees it and says, "Sure that's nice, is that the color?"
He's asking me?
Well duh, sneaky.
He researched to get just the right nail color. I have no idea what possessed him to do that.
I have no idea how I ever got to deserve anybody quite so perfect for me as that man.

In other news, I dyed the manchild's hairs. He wanted red. Satan red, he said. Oh, well, okay. Um. How about we do this. We'll pin up the whole top layer of your hair, all around the crown of your head. We'll save all that hair, which is a lovely color, and then we'll color the underneath layers, so it's subtle. That way if it sucks, we have some solutions. Sure, he said, I'm a dude, I can just shave my head if it sucks.
Er. Well. Sure. Great idea.
It isn't really satan red. It's red alright though. He seems pretty happy. If I were going to do it again, I'd color his other hair sort of a darker walnut brown too, like the very top layer would be his own color, then the next tier would be darker, then the bottom layer red. I think we may try some other red stuff. Like that bright fire-engine red stuff from the hair store. He's like a walking art project. It was fun to do his hair, he does funny voices and tries really hard to make me laugh. I also stepped on the mirror. Ugh, so broken glass on the bottom of my left foot. Which stupidly I rubbed against the top of my right foot. Which scraped the top of the right foot but luckily did no damage to the bottom of the other one.
That child. Teenagers are stressful. Maximum stress. But he's still pretty awesome. I can't reconcile that. No matter what he does to freak me out, he's also adorable and funny and smart. How can teenagers be so conflicted and not see how incredible they are? I mean I was there! I was just as messed up as he is.

Glenda the Good Witch is showing me how to cook with the Cooking Express Infomercial.
My fingers and toes are all shiny pink.
I think I need to go to bed.