Bitches be crazy

Ok so this post is not really about how bitches be crazy, it's about my crazy mother (who is totally not a bitch). 

One example of why my mother is crazy:

I almost always have my nails painted.  It stops me from biting them.   I rarely choose my color based on the season.  I'll look to see what's "in," and if I like it then I'll do it.  I typically like darker-ish colors on my nails and brights on my toes.  So this summer I was on a pink kick and I was on a mission to find the right pink.  I've had the same issue with red.  I was looking for a particular red but I had no idea what exactly that was.  There was a lot of trial and error.  Whenever I found one I like, it was discontinued.  But don't worry (and I know you were) I found one.

OPI's Affair in Red Square

So anyways I was looking for a pink that I loved.  And the only way I can describe it is a dark shade of bright pink or a bright shade of dark pink.  I wore something like it to my brother's wedding and loved it.

OPI's Pink Flamenco

  So at some point this summer I had casually mentioned to my mom that I was looking for pink nail polish.  She had an Avon book and I saw a color that looked nice.  Two-ish months, in September, she comes over to visit and brings me two new nail polishes.  Both are pink.  One is really bright with orange undertones and the other is the one I had mentioned.  Now, don't get me wrong, my mother's heart is totally in the right place but it's so not summer anymore and I'm kinda "meh" about the pink mission.  

Another example of why she is crazy:  So yesterday on the way home from class I call her and we're chit chatting as I walk into my apartment-Ya know the one with the awesome windows?  I go get me mail (still on the phone) and I notice there is a post card with my mother's hand writing on the back. I say "where'd *you* go?  Oh no where."  To clarify that odd answering-my-own-question statement I just made, my mother, the crazy one, sent me a postcard from my home town.  She wanted me to have some real mail.  

God she's crazy.  But I love her for it.