have been a nail-biter since I was 9 years old. But not just any nail-biter, I'm the one who bites down to the stubs, until they throb and bleed and peel. (Go big or go home) Ha! No, seriously, I know it's gross. But try as I might, I've never been able to stop (and to tell you the truth it's not for lack of willpower but for lack of real desire to have pretty nails)
For some random reason unbeknownst to me, I have taken a stand and done something I thought I'd never do: I got fake nails. Chhyeah! That's right. Femmy Emmy is now the proud wearer of a set of pale pink acrylic nails. (She is also proud to have figured out that the word “acrylic” does not, in fact have two l’s in it.) Anna [my little sister] says dryly, "Wow... you're like a real girl now."
I hate how they feel but I'm going to let it grow on me. (get it?? Grow on me?) Given time, my real nails will come back and I can take the fake tips off and start biting them again.
(Just kidding.)
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