the nails that were fake

This:

is proof that I am not very good at saying "no."

Or perhaps in this case, that I am not very good at saying "yes."

Let me explain.

When I was in high school, I decided that I wanted fake nails for my wedding.  I thought they were too ridiculously expensive [for my measly budget] to have on any other occasion.

So I waited.  [Very patiently, might I add.]

Fast forward: I am getting married.  This means I will be having a wedding.

Do you see where this is going?

That's right.

I got my nails done yesterday.  I had pictures today, so I got my nails done yesterday.

Eh, Pacha?

And here we are, back to the point of all this nonsensical rambling: the fact that I can't say no.  Or in this case, that I couldn't say yes.

After the very-nice-Asian-man-whose-accent-I-couldn't-entirely-understand cut down the tips, he asked if I wanted them shorter.

I replied that I did.

He cut them shorter.

Then he started filing.

There was only one problem: I still wanted them even shorter.

But he had already started filing.  And he seemed like such a nice man.  And I didn't want him to have to start all over again with the filing.  And, you know, maybe I didn't really need them to be all that short anyway.  I could probably enjoy them this length.  I mean, they still looked good, right?

The man must have noticed me staring intently at my nails, because he said, mid-file, "Oh no, you want them shorter, don't you?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do," I thought.  "No," I said.

"Whaaaa?" I thought.

And there you have it, my friends.  How I came to have much longer nails than I had so long envisioned.  [Ok, so they're not really that long...right?  Comfort me here, people.  I don't look like the Wicked Witch of the West now, do I???]

And now we've finally come full circle - back to the point.  Usually my problem is that I can't say no to people, because I am a major people pleaser, people.  I just would rather see someone looking happy than someone looking sad.  Even if I'm paying that someone to, oh, you know, put acrylics on my nails, or something.  [Hypothetically speaking, of course.]  And instead, this time, I said no when I actually wanted to say yes.  [Confused?  So am I.]

Moral of the story?  Sometimes it's ok to say no.

[Another] moral of the story?  Sometimes it's ok to say yes.

[Not really a] moral of the story?  I will probably continue to do things simply because I think it makes someone else happy.  All of this nonsensical rambling soul-searching probably won't change any of that.

p.s.  I would just like to give a shout-out to Tim, who sat right there in that nail salon with me the entire time I was getting my nails done.  And only laughed a few times - but mostly when my feet were being scrubbed with that, er, whatever-that-thing-is-that-gets-dead-skin-off-your-feet, and I couldn't stop giggling.  [It's ok, everyone else was laughing at me, too.]

p.p.s. If you don't like kissing pictures, you probably shouldn't look at that picture.

p^3.s.  Oops, too late.