Nailed Vanity

Now that I stopped biting my fingernails and cuticles (almost) I seriously cannot stop admiring my natural french manicure. It's totally vain and I totally don't care.

I've always been a bit nail-obsessed to begin with, even when I had bloody sausage man-hands. In fact, that's probably the reason why. I'd look at women's hands on the subway, the bar, wherever and admire the shape of their nailbeds and their non-mutilated cutes. Then I'd look at mine and chew. So gross.

I kicked the habit back in August with only a couple of slip-ups since. The damn things grow so fast now that I actually have to cut them down. Thanks Biotin!

(This might be the most girly and superficial post I've ever written. I'm still typing only so I can feel my nails on the keys... sdjkfhkjsdashvkjiuaysfdahslgslidvuoyuyiwEURY;urweiuyrUIFSHDKLJSHVOUDOPWEYSDLHLKJHSDFHS;JKHFSDK. Hot.)