One of my best friends and I were talking on the telephone recently.
I don’t talk on the phone much nowadays. Feels retro. Feels like I am a teenager.
Especially since my friend and I have been friends since we were the teenage versions of ourselves.
“What are you doing?” he asks. He’s had a lot of white wine since getting back from the Hamptons.
“Painting my nails.”
“What color should I paint them?” I ask, as I begin to apply my bottom coat.
“Pink and black,” he says immediately. As if he had called to tell me that.
So. Here they are. My pink and black, Angsty Teen nails.
The black is a shitty, $3 nail polish that I got from one of those cheaply made clothing stores that swap out their entire inventory every week. It doesn’t even have a name. I don’t know why I feel such sympathy for an nameless nail polish. Well, I would have called it, “Breeze of the Black Night.” Great opening line to the Ditty Bops song of the same name.
The florescent pink is the ” Purple Haze” again. Still upset about this color name too. See. Here is another instance where I am placing entirely too much emotional energy on a nail polish color.
“Breeze Black Night” by The Ditty Bops