Monday, November 15, 2010
The Grim Tale
It may seem overly fanatical that I catalog my nail polish, and now that I'm looking at my list I feel like its too short ;). I digress... You may say "Liz! You're O.C.D". Which is when I might look you dead in the eye, memories flowing through them like a river... I begin to tell my grim tale.
It was in the wee hours of the morning on a hot southern Georgia summer night that two strange thieves stole into the townhouse I shared with my lovelies, Chelsea and Tom. Tom was out enjoying the shenanigans one young college boy might run into with fellow peers, and Chelsea was a meer door over at the neighbors enjoying a graduation celebration for our close friend and neighbor, Antuan. Where was I, you ask? After spending time next door enjoying the festivities, I decided to call it an early night and enjoy a good restful sleep in my bed on the third floor. (My days of going out four nights a week and staying up until 4am were apparently behind me).
Before I actually tell you the sheer terror that is the climax of this story, let me take you through a rather precise description of these wrongdoers.
*Female: Short, thin, crazy eyes, most likely owning t-shirts air-brushed at a carnival and what looked like possibly voyeuristic.
*Male: Possible "little person" with noodle limbs and an egg head, over sized duvet-ish looking black jacket and Junco Jeans, crazy eyes matching his counterpart, also possibly voyeuristic.
*Both: Likely crack heads.
These "wonderful" specimen were unknowingly to all other guests at the party... crashers. The neighbors thought they were friends of guests and vice versa. So there I was, sleeping sound while the thieves in question waltzed straight into our townhouse and took what they pleased.
"Oh, NO!" You might say. "What did these putrid degenerates take??!"
I will tell you what they took; Half. Of. My. OPI. Collection. I will let you take a moment to collect yourselves.
I did not have this catalog of polish when they stole half of my heart. Some are discontinued, and as much as it pains me to admit... some I just can't remember the names. If I had done this before the "crack head home invasion", I would have been able to be reunited with more of my babies.
So there you have it, folks. The reasoning behind my catalog (and a good one at that). I truly hope this results in a "scared straight" realization for those of you who hold your OPI as close as myself. You never know when the nail polish intruders will come to your door and "snatch yo people up". So, hide yo list, hide yo bottles, and hide yo husbands too...