Bitch in Heat

I just fought off the temptation to get fake nails, as I was getting a manicure. I don’t think that acrylic nails are healthy or even pretty, but for some reason when I saw the white tips in the box; I considered having a French manicure glued onto my tapered digits. I kept repeating to myself, "Short and chic, short and chic. I have long pretty fingers. I don’t need that tacky plastic stuff."(In my head, not out loud.) I cut my fingernails and toenails really short last night, too short. I know that they are too short because my Swedish clogs hurt the tips of my tender toes as I walk. I went to get a pedicure and manicure this afternoon, mostly because I wanted to have the soles of my feet buffed, while I sat reading in the massage chair. (I exercise a lot and I don’t want calluses.)

I also needed some comforting after what I did to my silky mid-length hair earlier this morning. I went to the salon and got another haircut. I just got a bob two weeks ago, which really didn't compliment my squarish jaw line, so I had another inch taken off and added some choppy long layers, which looks much better on me. It is shorter than I have ever had it in my life. (Jaw length) It makes my neck seem longer.

I need to start Christmas shopping now that I feel clipped and polished. I am as well groomed my toy poodle, Josie-Eve. I gave her a French name--and now I feel as chic as une femme française, which tempted me to go buy long and skinny cigarettes that will go stale, since I don’t smoke.

I had a glass of Beaujolais with a petite wedge of Camembert and a handful of cashews for lunch.