In many ways, I am my father’s daughter. The dry sense of humor, the slightly hooked nose, and the tendency, in certain areas of my life, to be a ‘creature of habit’. I balance that last trait out with a tendency, as well, to be a ridiculous dreamer, open and searching for new experiences. As most of us are, I am a dichotomy…and in the areas where my ‘creature of habit’ psychoses poke out their little heads, it’s possible I can be a bit, well, rigid. Don’t judge. It is for good reason.

For example, today I went to get a much-needed pedicure (a luxury I’ve become addicted to since my days in NYC). I decided, before going in, that this time, I was going to mix things up. Step away from my nail polish rigidity. Try to inject a little bit of the dreamer into an area I’ve kept it hidden. And so I scanned the rows and rows of choices. My eyes continued to move past my old favorite - a color the perfect mix of red and pink, with a dash of sparkly orange. But I held strong, and finally settled on a brighter orange-red. After the ‘nail specialist’ pried if from my nervous hands, I sat back to enjoy the calf massage and read about the details of Jennifer Garner’s pregnancy.

Now I’m home, and, I gotta be honest. I’m not liking the color. It doesn’t have the same sheen. It won’t go as well with my blue dress.  And I want to wrap my own nuckles for doubting my instincts.  Forgive me, my perfect mix of red, pink and orange. You will adorn me again in approximately three weeks. I apologize for my infidelity…I was drunk.

I’m off to view more Olympics. The women’s (or severely growth-stunted girl’s) gymnastic team is going for the gold, and I must cheer them on.  It’s gonna be a nail-biter.  A perfectly manicured nail-biter.

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