Being So Well

I decided to apply a bit perfume this morning. I opened up one of my cabinets, wow…..which one I should pick? I was so lost. They all smell good and look nice otherwise I would have chucked them into the bin earlier, but some of the bottles probably have been staying there for at least one year and guess what, they are still very full. “OMG, I should have used them more”, I said to myself, exactly like what I did in the last time when I had the same situation. I suppose nothing has changed; they still look like what they looked like.

I love perfume, or specifically speaking, I love all the things with fragrance. Comparing the different smells over the counter of perfume section is good, aroma bath therapy is lovely and burning the fragrance oil in a scent holder is my favourite, and I also love collecting the beautiful bottles with wonderful shapes, but I hardly use them or buy them because my nasal problem doesn’t allow me to work on the strong stimulation. Plus, I am such a busy and forgetful person, after jumping out of the bed in the early morning and fighting like a soldier in the battle of kitchen, I seldom remembered to get some perfume before I take off for the work. I guess I am just not that casual to have much time wandering in shopping malls and strolling on streets like girls born in Saudi Arabia. But on the other hand, my girl friends and my female family relatives such love giving me perfume as presents; I got DKNY from Emelie on recent birthday occasion, CD green poison and J’Adore from my sister in-law, Mariella Burani from my previous workmate and Shiseido green Relaxant from one of my sister’s colleague whom I used to help with something but I don’t remember what it was. I am so terrible.

Sometime I pinched my husband’s Givenchy Ultramarine or Kenzo but it is better not to let him know. I love men’s perfume, especially Jazz, Davidoff Cold Water and that orange bottle of Clinique Happy for men. He hates the colour, says it’s too woman. I don’t understand. Who would care what colour of the perfume bottle is? They just smell…in the matter of that, they act like dogs, not artists.

The only perfume I bought in this life is a 10ml bottle of a Chinese brand (from province of Nanjing) called Ballet. It has a fragrance of Gui Flower. The bottle is very ugly but the smell is so sweet and female. It doesn’t smell as cheap as its price $14RBM. Actually I would consider it as a good product but very few people knows its name. The rich Chinese girl always go for those expensive famous French or American brands, they don’t even pay a look at those under $300RMB. I used it all the time when in Uni which had become one of my iconic things in a small loop of my female friends. Trust me, I love it so much because whenever you have it on, it will give you a feeling of being blessed and making you feel more like a woman.

I was sitting there and holding one of my nail tools. My husband looked at me and tried to say something but finally, he didn’t slip even one word. He must have gotten tired of my almost ill obsession with cutting my nails, I can hear him nearly shouting out, “again? You sick people!” I was very sure that it wasn’t my paranoid as he did this before, trust me if he didn’t say something like this; it was just because he got too fed up with my odd behaviour at that moment.

That’s how I was inspired to talk about my nails here. Bur first of all, I have to let you know that I never liked my nails in the past and I can predict that I would never like them in the future as well. Yes, in this regard, I am absolutely a mentally unhealthy woman living in her self-image crisis. According to my standard, mind you which is actually very low, my nails have never been good, ugly shape, bad material, dry and weak skin in the surrounding area and easy to get peeled. I wouldn’t bother getting them polished with nice enamel; No, they are just not worth it. What I am obsessed with is to cut them to an incredible length of short and making them look very bald. I feel good about doing so because I could not stand the white parts of my nails growing beyond 1 mm. My Genius record was once I had them about 0.5cm long. It only lasted 3 days despite I felt they have grown into my skin for about 3 years. It was so uncomfortable that I couldn’t wait to cut them off before I got a chance to get them polished, which actually was the whole idea about at the beginning. Since then on, I never tried again.

I also had a short history of biting my nails about one or two years during my early teenager hood. I guess I did that because I couldn’t find better and more convenient nail scissors than my teeth. But I gave it up soon after I found that I was required to frequently point to something with my fingers when I was asked to explain a mathematic question for my classmates, especially the boys, as requested. I have to admit that it had amazing impact on shaping one’s health behaviours

With the time passed by, I have gradually formed my own theory about the nail treatment. Since they are not born to be good, then at least I’d like to keep them clean and tidy. I am still very fascinated with women who always have their nails polished with bloody red colour or wear faked pretty plastic nails. I love to see the proud on their face when they are showing off their beautiful hands, but I know there is no point for me to go to a nail salon once a month or spend a while putting my hands on a nail technician’s table. I will be cutting them, cutting them and keep cutting them….till I can’t cut them myself :-0