I firmly believe that today's females live in the golden age of nails. If everything is intact, each of them have 20 little canvasses
on which to paint whatever they want. I've seen flowers, dots, stripes, stars, landscapes, outer space, words, eyes, clouds, and even
cats. I look at my canvasses, and I see potential that will never be realized, because I'm a repressed male. I'm uncorked in many ways,
but I'm not sure anyone will ever see me with something like Hello Kitty fingernails, even if it becomes a male fad. Perhaps, if
I become a barefoot runner someday, I might consider it—just to have a little style. Heck, if minimalists can wear those funky looking foot gloves,
why not run with Van Gogh claws.
Today's comic was drawn exclusively in crayon. I've been on a binge. I've been using crayons since the early days of this comic, but mostly for coloring,
and rarely for lines. Using them has been just plain fun.
Earlier today, I was putting together photos of a few of my race t-shirts for the PS section of an earlier comic (#149)
, and I thought back on all the races
that I've run. My first marathon seems so long ago. Life sure is strange the way it keeps changing, and every thing that happens seems to just slip into a void. All that's left are fading memories.
To quote Ferris Bueller: "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it."
"Nice toenails there, Roxana. You seem to be missing one..."