(new here? read this first.)
¡Hola! Mi llamo es Casey and I take very good care of my nails. All twenty of them. Even the goofy little toes that I thought turned inward as a result of a lifetime of ballet, but guess what? My kid has the same toes. And they’re trouble. Genetic trouble. Sorry grandkids!
Lest you think I’m looking at your nails and silently judging your nail care routine, I assure you I am not. Well. Unless I’m having a really bad day. Then I may sneak a peek and take comfort in the fact that even though my entire life is falling down around me? At least my nails still look good. Or at least better than that guy’s over there.
A lot has gone wrong with my body. A lot has broken over the last few years. But one thing that stays pretty consistent, not to mention one of the few things I have control over? My nails. Twenty little perfectly polished and shaped beacons of hope. I will never grow stray hairs from my nails. I will never get zits on my nails the day before a big event. My nails will never gain or lose 20 pounds and have the stretch marks to prove it. My nails don’t bloat. (And if they ever do any of these? Heaven help us all.)
Aside from the occasional hangnail and car door (yeah. that one hurt.) my nails are my constant.
Thanks guys. 20 times over.
Yo, what’s up? This is Daniel.
I’ve never had a manicure or pedicure. People have been getting them for centuries. And I’ve never done it. I’m tempted. Maybe one day. It might be a man thing. It might be about intimidation. Not sure.
In terms of grooming, I keep clean, I’m looking forward to turning gray and I kind of hate shaving. If I had it my way, I would shave once or twice a week.
I visited an uncle in Palermo, Sicily in the 1990′s. I arrived after weeks of backpacking through Europe, drinking lots of wine, eating cheese, reading and not shaving. There was a definite language barrier, but that didn’t stop us from immediately driving to a barber shop where I was given a straight razor shave. I was partly terrified and partly intrigued. I left clean shaven with cuts. I smelled magnificent. My Uncle looked at me in a new light.
Since then, I always try to get a wet shave every few years. I spent 20 Euros on the island of Capri (I got ripped off). I’ve had one in downtown Indianapolis the morning of a dear friend’s wedding. I even walked into a barber shop in Kusadasi, Turkey and pointed at stubble. Again, I left with cuts, but I smelled like a man. Man, alive.
It’s now become a rite of passage for me. And I’m plotting the next experience. I’ll pass this onto my son. And I hope one day he’ll walk into a barber shop somewhere out there and ask for a shave. Or a manicure.
***Hi! this is Casey…I just have to say that this was completely coincidence that we both chose to write about fingernails. Neither of us peeked or discussed our views on this photo before we hit publish. Cool, right?***
I am in love with this site.
I was at the nail salon the other day getting my toes nails painted when a man walked in and asked for a pedicure; not with his wife or daughter but by himself. And I thought, good for him. I don’t know any males personally who would ever do that, but they all should. It feels amazing.
This was awesome. I am the exact opposite of you, Casey. While I appreciate a beautiful nail, I am horrible about taking care of them. I’ve only recently started getting regular manicures and pedicures. And Daniel? I would highly suggest you try it out sometime. Especially a pedicure. Old men get them all the time, I see them in the salon frequently. They are over all the “man” stuff, and appreciate someone taking care of their feet.
It feels nice to soak them, and have them smoothed and massaged. I bet you’d enjoy it. 
[...] The one about the cherry? We actually both ended up writing about fingernails. [...]
[...] These two creative forces joined together to, as Casey put it, “have URL babies” (I told you she was funny). Their new blog, you see it differently than.me, is my new favorite thing. Here’s how it works. Casey or Daniel choose an image from their own personal flickr accounts, and then write the image separately creating her point of view, and his point of view. I find it fascinating how two people can look at the same image and write about two entirely differently subjects. I mean, drastically different. Like Star Wars and death. Or boobs and life lessons. One time, they just wrote about fingernails. [...]
[...] love traveling. I’ve already mentioned it in this post, and this one, and this one. And this blog is still a [...]
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