Homo Improvements

I've been feeling so much more energetic now that I'm not in constant pain, that I was motivated to make my room a little more supportive, and then, carried away, even got my nails done!

Improvement number 1: A place to hang my hats. Well, caps.

Improvement number 2: I also gave my room a thorough cleaning, especially my desk.

I even set up my digital turntable to digitize a beloved vinyl album that is so obscure, it's unlikely to ever be released on CD.

Improvement number 3: While cleaning up I found four 20-year-old PCs. I cleaned them up and donated them to a local charity, which provided the benefit of getting them out of my way for good.

Improvement number 4: The glass roof on my Tesla was driving me crazy, as it's been so hot here in Phoenix this summer and the sun beating down on my bald dome wasn't nearly as much fun as it sounds. A cap didn't help, as it just got hot and transmitted the heat right through. Tesla sells removable ceiling covers for $150; but Amazon had one for $50 and it fit perfectly and solved the problem!

Improvement number 5: And that brings us to my nails. My daughter, Jenny, treated my other daughter, Dorothy, and I to a "mani-pedi". I know a lot of gay guys (and a few straights) who get these on a regular basis; but I've never been interested. Seriously, I'm afraid that running around Maui barefoot for over a year has wreaked havoc with my toenails, which looked almost as bad as a Denobulan's.

Okay, mine weren't so bad. But between the nails and the calluses, the nail tech had her work cut out for her.

Then they did my nails. They had a whole menu, like at Olive Garden, of all the things I could have done to my nails and I didn't understand any of them. They finally talked me into some kind of something that involved dipping my nails into powder, then some kind of liquid, then under some kind of ray gun.

They didn't come out the color I expected (I was hoping for something that would be, you know, nail colored) and they were also a lot longer than I found comfortable. They made texting on my phone almost impossible. Even regular keyboard typing was difficult.

One day when I went to my physical therapy session, another older guy (who was there with his wife) noticed my nails, grinned at me and held up his own freshly-manicured hand. "I would never have gotten a manicure years ago, but I love them!"

That was some kind of encouragement, I guess. But I still didn't really like the bionic nails; plus, after six weeks, my natural nail growth had made them even longer. Plus they were made of some kind of polymer or something that could only be trimmed with Superman's heat vision. So I went to a different nail salon (one without a menu) to have them remove the previous nails and just put some gel on my real nails to make them less brittle, which was the entire point of the manicure to begin with.

Anyway…now that my nails are again capable of efficient typing, I can catch up on my blog posts!

Unlike this lady.