No, not my nails!!!!!!!

Ok, I am finally embracing my coils.
I'm even having fabulous fun with my Frizz.

But there is one travesty, a single act of disrespect, a blip on the horizon of my natural bliss unnerving me to the core of total unacceptability: my styling sessions done mangled my manicures, ya'll!
And I am not happily dancing about it, ggggrrrrr!!!!!

Don't get me wrong, as we all know I am slowly recovering from HIH Syndrome; you know: Hand In Hair. (Admission is the first step to peaceful, well sealed ends).

But I also LOVE using my nails as a relaxation playground, if you will. See, they're long & strong from my paternal Granny's side of the family & I dig experimenting with colors & designs. In fact, if I wasn't called to dance on weekends, I might've looked into working the whole nail shop thing. But I LOVE dancing for God WAY MORE.

So how come every time I hook up a banging set of twists or faux-n-go deluxe (fake a wash-n-go) my beautiful nails end up looking like the "Man Hands" chica on Seinfeld? No, really. And it's not cute. I ABHOR chipped nails!!!! I once stopped watching Brenda on General Hospital because of a scene showing her grabbing the bars of her jail cell, & all my little shocked & appalled eyes could focus on were her horrific, I-chewed-my -BLACK-polish hands nails, destroying the very canvas of the show.

It was that serious.

So in the battle of hair vs. nails, I suppose the hair wins the Rocks-Paper-Scissors toss. But one day, I vow that my hair AND hands will reside together in peaceful harmony.

Until such time....I'm off to the nail ER. (Oh by the way: it took me about an hour and a half to hook up that mani in the photo....and less than 10 minutes to tear it apart.)

There's 2 sides to every Frizz,
natural dancer