Double Date

My parents are celebrating their 70th birthdays this year, and they are proving that age is just a number.  As Eddie and I climb onto the couch exhausted, we hear them gearing up to go out.  When we drift off to sleep, we are awoken by the sound of their car pulling into the driveway.  Yeah, they have a much more active social life than we do.  We blame it on our jobs.  We'd be a lot more awake if we weren't working all week.  Yes, that must be it. 

To improve our social life, we went out with my parents.  My dad went to college in Brooklyn, so he's familiar with some of the downtown area.  My mom is not familiar at all and has an intrigue.  So we took them to L&B for pizza and then to the promenade.  It was a plan for a full afternoon of activities.

On our way to eat, we of course hit traffic all over the place.  I was ready to eat my hand.  Still, we were able to point out places and things in different neighborhoods, acting as tour guides for the folks.  We found parking right on the corner of the restaurant, which was amazing.  We got appetizers so that my hand stayed intact.  Fun fact: some people put a surprise piece of meat in the middle of potato croquettes.  It's not a surprise to the chef, but to the semi-vegetarian eating what seems to be a vegetable dish, it's a surprise when a potato tastes like proscuitt.  Anyway, the appetizers were good.

We sat and talked and my mom read the back of the menu to find out the history of the restaurant.  She's such a tourist.  Then we waited.  Then we waited some more.  Then we waited even more.  Then my mom caught the waiter's attention and gave a sweeping motion at the table that had no pizza on it.  He came over and gave us another round of drinks--because a drink really tides you over when you want to eat a pizza--and gave his apologies for having gotten caught up in something.  That's code for, I totally forgot your pizza.

A few minutes went by before he returned with a tray and a bunch of jars of things we could sprinkle on our pizza.  Still no pizza.  I pondered sprinkling some garlic powder on my tongue.  I did not follow through.

Meanwhile, the little boy at the table behind us was screaming and being brought outside by his uncle from time to time while the little girl was coughing on the shared family pizza.  Nice.

Finally, the pizza came.  My parents both thought it was worth the wait.  I scarfed down a piece very quickly.  Then I worked on a second.  That did not go so well.  I ate the first too quickly and didn't realize how full I was until I was halfway through the second one.  I felt like I had to be rolled out of the restaurant.  I mean, I also had had that second drink the waiter had brought over, so maybe that had something to do with my fullness, too, you know.

Everyone ate a whole bunch and then we packed up the final four slices to take home.  Then we were on our way to the Promenade.  On the way there, my dad was pointing out where he'd gone to college.  My mom was like, That's it?, as he pointed to a building.  Then we turned a corner and she saw that there were a lot more buildings involved.  I also taught them that anytime they saw brown street signs, they were in a historic district.  Tour guide!  I should so be a tour guide!

We found a spot right near the start of the Promenade.  It was a spot only Eddie could get into and out of.  Had I been driving, I would still be trying to park.  The parking fairy was granting us all kinds of wishes.

We took a stroll down near the water.  We sat for a while.  We walked some more.  Several different rappers with entourages were rapping and recording things, which I found to be a little low-budget and cliche but Eddie reminded me that people following their dreams and trying to do something is not a joke.  Fine, fine, it's not a joke, but can we please make fun of their matching hats?  Please?

Then at the end closest to the Brooklyn Bridge we found a photo session going on.  Women were posing in super hero stances.  It was quite a scene.  We took pictures, but we were smiling and standing upright, not in superhero poses.  Then my mom took pictures with Eddie's phone.  That went well.

Well, at least Eddie has a face in the final one, but not the top of his head.  We took some of them, too.

And then one of ourselves using the reverse camera.

The guys got ice cream as me and my mom sat for a while.  Leave it to my dad to go to an ice cream truck where everyone is walking away with cones and sprinkles to come back with a pineapple sundae.  Of course he would find the fruit on the menu.  It looked really good, too.  I have no idea how either of them was eating ice cream.  I was still over-full from the pizza (and the extra drink, of course).

Then we piled back into the car.  Eddie got out of the space he had gotten into.  Had I been driving, I would still be trying to get out of the space.

We hit a lot of traffic, more than usual, on our way back home.  Eddie was yawning.  I was half-asleep.  My parents?  Were in the backseat singing We Are The Champions and We Will Rock You and anything else that came on the radio.  Yup, that seems about right.

I Jogged A Mile And I Did Not Die

There's a path along the water in Bensonhurst that starts at the parking lot for the Toys R Us and ends somewhere beyond the Verrazzano.  It's a far drive let alone a walk, run, or ride.  Along the way, lots of children ride scooters and bikes and scream and yell and cry; lots of fishermen fish; lots of adults sit on benches, walk, run, skip, scold children.  Eddie and I usually do some walking and then some picture taking and then some standing and then some walking back to the car to go home.

Something must have been in the air.  We started out with the walking.  We dodged children.  We watched two fishermen catch fish at two different times.  The first one was kinda cool to watch.  The second one was weird because he picked up the small fish in his hand and then stalked off into the grass with it.  We blatantly stared at him to see what he was doing.  Apparently, he was keeping a plastic bag of fish hidden in the grass.  It was weird.

We got to the pedestrian bridge and crossed over the Belt and wandered into the park.  We watched some guys playing what seemed to be cricket.  Then we crossed back over.  Eddie asked, Do you want to jog back? 

Eddie can run.  He doesn't get tired when he runs.  He's not a runner in the sense that he wakes up before sunrise and runs five miles a day.  Instead, he can sit around and do nothing for a week and then run ten miles without a hitch.

I, as we all know, am not a runner.  I work out like a maniac every day and still I just can't run.

However, for reasons beyond my understanding, I said, Sure.

Then suddenly, I was jogging.  I was one of those people who jog up and down the path.  I was really out of my element.  Immediately, I was winded but was still able to carry on a conversation.  I've done enought workout videos to know that if you can carry on a conversation, you're doing fine.  So we jogged back past the children on scooters, the fishermen hiding fish in the grass, the kite fliers (yes! I forgot to mention the kite fliers!), and everyone else we'd seen on our way there.  Not even midway, I told Eddie, You need to talk to me about something to distract me from what we're doing.

So he started to talk about a couple who was running past us.  I interuppted: No, you need to talk about something other than jogging.

I don't remember what he talked about.  I might have been oxygen deprived at that point.  But we made it all the way back to the parking lot.  He stopped immediately and leaned against the railing to watch the water.  I?  Well, I was walking around in circles like a crazy person.  Then I was stretching and breathing. Then I was coughing.  I never work out outside, so all the crap in the great outdoors was now in my lungs and my lungs were pretty much telling me: Fuck you for jogging--we don't do jogging. 

Meanwhile, Mr. NeverJogs was chillin, checking his text messages, watching the waves, having a party of one as if he hadn't just physically moved a mile using his muscles and joints and stuff.   He was asking me if I was okay. Okay?  Questionable.  But alive?  Yes.  Suprisingly, yes.  It's been a long time since I've thought about my twenty-minute mile days in high school gym class.  The euphoria of having survived came rushing back.  Ahh, life, how I cherish it even more after running.  Okay, jogging.  If I had run, the thin line between life and death would be more questionable.

Chef Eddie

Did I mention that Eddie cooked me dinner for my birthday?  If not:

Okay, eagle-eyes, you probably noticed that I helped a bit.  Only when he was taking pictures or needed me to read the recipe.  Or needed me to stir.

 He also bought me this cake. It's an ice cream cake.  He did not make it.  I don't know anyone who can make an ice cream cake.

He is a good, good man.

Wine Up!

My birthday weekend was wonderful.  On my actual birthday, Eddie and I attended a poetry reading that I'd set up for a colleague at Sip This.  Dd and the rest of the gang signed a card and sang Happy Birthday to me AND they gave me a brownie fudge cake thing that was one of the most delicious desserts I've ever eaten and was too good to actually finish.  You know what it feels like to have a whole coffeehouse sing to you?  It's the best!  And it happened to me!  On my birthday!  Top that!

Okay, to top that, AF and SMM came over the next day and off we were to the wineries!!!  We sipped at Pugliese winery where the tasting room had moved outdoors and we had to weave our way through bachelorette parties and buses of women wearing matching t-shirts.  We picnicked under their vine-covered trellis and even picked some grapes.  Okay, SMM picked the grapes and one had an ant on it and he ate one and made a face that made the rest of us not try them.  A girl at another table was almost passed out on the bench.  People?  Were drunk.

We sipped more at Duckwalk North.  That's where AF and I made a new friend.  So we were a little tipsy and a little flirty.  Since our men were standing away from us talking about football, we decided to see if we could get an extra pour by guessing the bartender's name.  His name was not Pedro or Pablo or Billy or Brian.  It's amazing how many names his name was not.  When Eddie came over to check in on us, I was like, Go away we're making a move here!  He left.  We wound up giving NotPedro a tip with a note to say thanks.  He told us to autograph the note.  We did.  The old man next to us told us we should give him our phone numbers, too.  Umm, mind your business, Mr.IDon'tSeeYouWearingAWeddingRingWhenMyWeddingRingIsRightInYourFace.  AF and I then grabbed the guys and went outside to see the actual vineyard portion of the land.  There was a foodtruck there serving hamburgers and hot dogs, which of course go well with wine. 

We then sipped more at Pindar.  The bartender was a big douche and the wine, for the most part, sucked, so we got out of there as quickly as possible to sit outside away from the bad wine and big bag o' douche.  We had cupcakes and macarons to celebrate my birthday.  Mmmmmm, nothing like sugar on top of sugar.

Then we came home and remained semi-conscious for a while.  It's a little blurry for me.  I was exhausted but hyper if that's such a thing.

The gals did this.

The guys did this.

We ate yummy Magnolia cupcakes.

There was wine leftover.
Things were fuzzy.

The vineyards were gorgeous.

And then the dancing began.  Part II of the celebration happened when my parents came over to sing Happy Birthday and feast on ice cream cake and I showed them how my new Move for PS 3 works by dancing to Just Dance 3.  Dancing after drinking all day and eating cupcakes and macarons and a picnic lunch and Chinese food? Fun times!  After my demonstration, there was much more dancing since Eddie's present to me, the Move, created the necessity for a dance party planned the day before to which S and R were invited, only one of them being actually excited about the dancing, and I leave it to you to figure out the mystery of which one.  And then MM dropped by to witness the dancing and celebrate with more wine and cheesecake. 

I am alive today.  My insides might be slowly dying or slowly recovering, but overall, I am alive.  I plan to dance again soon.  As soon as my insides show more signs of life and stop scolding me for the sugar overload.

Eleven

Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today...

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

Bird Santuaries and Burgers

Ah, another Milford morning. Checkout was at noon, so we lazily had breakfast and then lazily watched an entire movie on HBO since we don't have HBO at home.  I enjoy Morris Chestnut and Gabrielle Union, so it was a good time.  Then we headed out to tackle the rest of Milford.  There wasn't much left.  Milford's a small town.  Out to the outskirts!  Onto the one-lane bumpy roads!  To the bird sanctuary!

Really, we went to the bird sanctuary.  There, we found people who were bird watching.  People really do this.  Then we took a walk along a paved path and found an unpaved path.  Do we dare?  Yes, dare we do.  Onto the unpaved path filled with tall grass, bugs, and, of course, birds! 

We really bonded with nature.  We made it through the path to the beach where once again we were facing Long Island Sound, standing on rocky, shell-broked sand.  From there, we spotted Charles Island again.  Then we found pretty shells.  Then we watched a dog that was watching us.

Then, because we couldn't sit and couldn't walk without getting injured, we headed back.  And that's when a bird scared the crap out of me when we walked by some very tall grass and it decided to leave its hiding place and flap itself off in front of me.  I actually ducked out of the way.  Eddie, my knight in shining armor, was doubled-over, laughing.  Note to self: don't let your guard down in a bird sanctuary so that you do not get scared by birds.

Having worked up an appetite from the long walk through the marshy land, we creeped and crawled our way out of the spiraling streets and found one of the main drags, Boston Post Road, where we found a Whole Foods.  Once again, I was beaming because I could by my lentil crackers that I had coupons for.  Yes, this is how I get psyched.

Then we headed into Plan B Burger.  Plan B Burger should be called Little Piece of Burger Heaven. I'm not a big restaurant person.  I love kitschy places like Cracker Barrel, but that's more for the kitsch than the food.  Here?  I loved the food.  Oh my little baby Jesus, the menu has too many options. The very friendly waiter then told me that anything on the menu could be made with a veggie burger, turkey burger, or chicken burger.  I told him that now he made me have too many more options. 

Eddie got a cheese burger.  I got a chicken burger that was Italian style (pesto, mozzarella, mmmmm).  The food came and we were like, We need to eat here all the time.

Eddie's came with fries.  You don't see them here because this is his second burger.  Yeah, that's right.  It was so good that he ordered a second one.  The waiter was like, Next time, just get a double burger so you get less bread.  Now we know.  After the burger trauma at Milford Green Pizza, we were scarred and weary of what we ordered. Not here.  Not anymore.  This place almost made me eat beef.  Almost.  It didn't happen.  I smelled it and was like, no, I'll stick to chicken.  When we were finally done, the waiter was like, we'll see you soon.  We were like, Yes okay!  Then we realized, no, no we wouldn't because we were in Milford.  However, on a non-holiday weekend, we're only about an hour and forty minutes away.  It would be worth the drive.  Yeah, that's how good it is.

And then?  Then we had to say goodbye to Milford.  Sigh.  The weekend was coming to an end.  I would be starting work on Tuesday, so we'd decided that we should be home on Monday instead of coming home on Monday.  But now?  I own Milford.  We did everything we could possibly do.  We exhausted every nook and cranny.  Milford is my town.

Silver Sands, Big Bugs, And Lots Of Unasked-For Onions

Early on a Milford morning, Eddie and I had breakfast at the hotel using our B&B package vouchers (feels like FREE but isn't because the package is more expensive than when you don't get breakfast BUT a portion of the extra expense go to some charity to feed people, so it's a good thing).  He got made-to-order pancakes, and they were really fluffy and delicious.  We loaded up on food so that we had enough energy to get through the nature excursion ahead.

We followed Judy the GPS to Silver Sands State Park.  This time, we did not go through any creepy streets that threatened murder.  Instead, we went through downtown Milford that's got a small-town vibe and a waterfall.  Yup, a waterfall!  I oohed and ahhed and told him we had to see it on the way back.  See?  I really am amused by little things. 

When we got to the park, we were greeted by everyone walking on the boardwalk.  Milford is a very friendly town.  Even when they're power walking, they take an extra breath to say good morning.  Nice. 

We made it to the beach where we could see Charles Island, a supposedly cursed and haunted island where treasure may be buried.  We could not go to the island because (1) it was nesting season and Milford loves birds (more on that later) and we couldn't disturb the birds' nesting and (2) low tide was fading away and the tombolo (fancy word for sand bar) was starting to get covered by water.  Being that neither of us can swim, we did not venture out far.  It's a pretty amazing site, though.

The beach is of the rocky sort with broken shells all over the place, so we headed back onto the boardwalk and finished about a mile walk.  We took some side trips onto the sand and then onto some rocks.  When we were on the rocks, we were overlooking the water, and that's when a large bee-like bug decided to attack.  On unsteady ground, we swung and ducked.  We must have looked like two idiots attempting a violent version of tai-chi.  We ran down from the rocks and decided not to do any more venturing. 

On the walk back under what was now a blazing sun, we noticed a man sitting in the weeds next to a dumpster, reading.  Umm, okay then.  You know me--I love shit like that.  I would have taken a picture had it not been for my very soft spoken husband saying, Hey he didn't see just come back and take a picture!  This was about two feet from the man.  Yeah, I kept walking.

Then we found a palm tree.  Or at least our version of a palm tree.

 

Sufficiently sweaty and sand-filled, we headed one town over to the sports center to play some mini-golf and check out the arcade.  We played ski ball.  We won twelve tickets.  Eddie gave them to a little kid.  Awww.    In my mind, I won the game of golf because my score was higher.  Apparently, that's not how the game goes.

After that, we hit downtown Milford!  We walked up and down all three main streets.  Then we settled on a pizza place that turned out to be a full-on pizza and restaurant place, Milford Green Pizza and Restaurant.  We really liked it.  Until....  Eddie ordered a burger.  The girl told him it comes with lettuce and tomato and before she finished, he said, No, I don't need any of that, just plain please--cheese and nothing else. Okay, easy enough.

When the food came, she put the burger in front of him and said, It also comes with bacon and onions but you can just scrape them off if you don't want them. 

Say what?

My chicken sandwhich came exactly how I'd ordered it, and aside from the sandwich being mostly bread with a little piece of chicken, it was good.  Eddie, on the other hand, lifted his bun, all set to scrape off the crap that wasn't supposed to be on the burger since he'd said "cheese and nothing else," and he found that he couldn't just scrape it off because everything was embedded onto the cheese.  So I called the waitress over and was like, He's going to get sick from that so he just can't scrape it off.  She apologized and said she'd bring another one over, but Eddie told her that she could just bring him two slices of pizza.

The pizza was good.  The service?  Eh, we wouldn't have minded the mistake so much until the owner or manager or whoever he was came over and was like, Sorry about that but next time, you should really tell the server beforehand since the menu shows it comes with all that.

Um, say what?  I kept my mouth shut. Eddie said, Well I did say cheese and nothing else.  The guy responded, oh ok, and then walked away.

So what began as a good restaurant turned out to be icky.  The mozzarrella sticks were good, but they didn't make up for the wait staff blaming the customer for a mistake the server made by not paying attention.  Booo.

To make up for the downer moment, we went in search of a waterfall.  What did we find?  Two.  Yeah, that's right, TWO waterfalls.  First, we were walking to the docks and Eddie was like, Want to go over that bridge?  I hadn't seen it at first, so when he pointed it out, I was like, You know me too well!  We went over it and saw a waterfall at the end. 

It wasn't the one we'd seen in the car, so we went out in search and finally found it.  So pretty!  Milford is a pretty town.

After doing downtown Milford after all that other stuff in the sun, we were done, and so we swung by the Stop and Shop, grabbed some grub, and crashed in our hotel, watching the sunset over the Lowe's.  Ah, romance is a microwave and a home improvement store.

The Long Slow Road To Milford

Milford, CT is about an hour and forty minutes from my doorstep according to several online maps and two GPS systems.  That does not account for zillions of people fleeing New York in the name of Labor Day.  So as soon as Eddie set foot in the door, I was like, Let's go now!  I was itching to get away.  We packed up the car with several large bags crammed with mostly Eddie's clothing as he had to bring ten outfits and five pairs of shoe wear for two days, and then we were off! 

Vacation!!!!  We yelled it as we hit the highway.  And then vacation....we whispered it at all the dead stops we came to, which was every few feet.  So many people were going to Milford!  Okay, they were heading in the direction of Milford.  I began to entertain us by reading the sides of U-Haul trucks.  Now they come with Fun Facts!  It's a good way to pass the time sitting in traffic.  Also, it's a good way to get into an accident if there is no traffic and you're trying to read the Fun Fact on the side of the truck at warp speed.  Lucky for us, there was no warp speed on this trip.  We were going slow enough to spot a gopher!  He was nibbling on some roadside berries.  I clapped.  Eddie pointed out that it doesn't take much to make my day.  No, no it does not.

When we got into the Milford area, we picked up a bit of speed and found the exit and wound around off the exit.  And then?  Well, then we had to guess where we were going because the GPS was unsure of where to go.  We saw the hotel in front of us.  We just weren't sure how to get to it.  We turned into a parking lot and then were like, Uh-oh, we're heading into Lowe's.  You know, the Home Depot for rich people. 

But then we were like, Oh we're here!  Lowe's and the Hilton Garden Inn of Milford share a driveway.  So we parked, gathered our 101 bags, and headed into the reception area.  We were all set to check in and jump up and down on the hotel bed.  That plan didn't work out as we suspected because in front of us were two pilots and only one person behind the desk, and for some reason, it took forEVer for them to check in.  Of course, whenever there's a line, we're stuck on it, even if it's a line of two.

Finally, we made it to the desk and the guy was very chipper.  He asked if we were with any of the weddings.  I was like, Um, no?  Just us?  As if I were asking permission to be alone.  He was like, Oh okay, I was just asking because we have a few staying here.  Ahh, ok.  Then he handed me a baggie of chocolate kisses and was like, Thank you for being an Honors member, and THEN he explained that the lounge would be open until very late because of all the wedding parties arriving--until 1:45 AM!  Wow!  THEN I saw that attached to the kisses was a coupon for a free drink at the lounge.  Eddie was like, Yes, I know, now we have to go so you can get something for free.  YIPPEEEEE!  Cocktails and kisses is the way to be!

We got to our room that had a lovely view of Lowe's, unpacked, and then headed out to Cracker Barrel!  Between visiting the local Cracker Barrel and seeing a gopher, I was having the best day ever.  Eddie had never been to Cracker Barrel before so he was confused by the rocking chairs and the county store out front, and then by the old-folks kitchy pics on the walls, but then he got into the groove when he saw he could get a huge hamburger AND Coca Cola Chocolate Cake AND play a game all at one table.  I'm not the only one who gets really excited by little things.

After stuffing ourselves with Cracker Barrel goodness (I had breakfast for dinner--I was having the time of my life), we headed out to find Silver Sands State Park, which closes at dusk but I figured we could at least get a good look.

Um, no.  I make bad decisions.  We were driving all around on these creepy roads and couldn't find an open entrance, so we headed back to the hotel to avoid being murdered. 

And then we settled into the lounge at the hotel and I had the best appletini I've ever tasted.  Talk about Best Day Ever!

AND I took a parting gift from the bar: a disposable plastic stirrer that I grabbed when the bartender walked away.  Oh, yeah, it was a very good day.

A Manicure Several Decades In The Making

In the 1980s, the beauty industry had an ingenius idea with the invention of Lee Press-on Nails. I'm not sure if I ever wore a whole set of these, but I came to really love them, desire them, think them the key for making me not so shy and a little less ugly (seriously, me circa 1988, not a pretty picture).  Lee Press-on Nails were pre-polished nails that glued onto your own nails for an at-home quick manicure.  Perfect.

I do remember I had at least one.  I think I got it from the bottom of a jewelry box that I had gotten from a friend maybe.  It was a pinky nail, a pinkish-mauve-ish color. I remember pressing it against my pinky nail whenever I went through the box to see how my nails would look if I had longer, painted nails.  The bottom of the nail was not sticky, so it wouldn't hold.  Whatever glue was on there had attached itself to dust and some glitter.  The bottom-side, in all honesty, looked like a giant booger.

Sidenote: My family was on vacation in Florida.  We were at the Kennedy Space Center.  I was in grammar school and so was my brother, three years my elder.  We found a bumper sticker that was not very funny until my dad read it aloud.  It read: Don't drive any closer or I'll flick a booger on your windshield.  My dad, not a man who wastes his time on slang and vernacular, obviously had no idea of what "booger" meant, and he pronounced it loudly as if the "oo" sounds like what a cow says: mooooo.  So he read it as "flick a boooooger on your windshield," which sent me and my brother into hysterics and my mom into teaching mode, explaining that it was pronounced like sugar.  And that's the story that pops into my mind whenever I hear the word "booger," and I'm always left with the same questions: why the hell was that bumper sticker for sale at the Kennedy Space Station?  Is it something the astronauts put on their space ships?

Fast forward to Shecky's.  In the three goodie bags from the two Shecky's events I attended over the summer, I found three packages of Impress.  Do you know what that is?  Here's what: imPRESS is a NEW! fast & easy press-on manicure that you can apply in minutes.

Hello, 1980s, we are back!

The only difference here is that the lead singer from the Pussy Cat Dolls who was also an annoying judge and coach on X-Factor is on the packaging. 

I suppose there is one other difference: I own them!  So on the eve of my Labor Day vacation, I decided to give it a shot.  I layed out all 24 fake nails of different shapes and sizes on my dining room table.  I figured out which ones fit which fingers and put the extra ones back in the packaging, not sure of what to do with them since the extra ones are ones that do not fit any of my nails. I snipped my actual nails, seeing that they were actually too long for the fake nails to fit over. Then I went at it, peeling back the tabs and pressing on the nails.  The package says that they should last for 7 days*.  The * says When applied properly.  How do you apply them properly?  FIRMLY apply them.  That means push down really hard on them.  That's it.  That's the whole process.

What I've realized now that I never realized with that one lone booger pinky nail is this: these nails are plastic pieces of crap.  Sure, they have thus far stayed on--four days and counting through parks and beaches and several hair-washings.  However, the tips are a little crooked or rough and not file-able like natural nails.  AND they will not stay firmly against the nail bed no matter how FIRMLY I apply them and then press them down again or again. 

My hair and other strappy or skinny things get stuck between the nail bed and the fake nail.  Dust and other mystery particles gets caught up between the tips of my real nails and the fake ones.   My real nails seem to be quickly creeping out up to the edges, threatening to show that what's on top is not real.

However, this is fulfillment of a dream deferred.  They are so pretty.  That makes me feel so pretty.  I am 7 and I am happy because I like pretty little things in vivid pink.