I realized that part of my quarantine dissociation is tied up in grooming rituals. not just makeup. not just clothes. getting my hair cut and my nails done = minimum adornment.

when I was really sick and didn’t know the source, my tech and I would talk about needing care and not being able to get it too many places as women who aren’t white (she’s Cambodian). and how the nail shop or hair salon might be the easiest places to go. for us.

tbh, having my legs massaged pushed me into an embodiment that I have always struggled to maintain. it woke me up, kinda, if that makes sense.

dissociation is about not being fully in my body or in a moment.
the right kinds of touch can be grounding.
so when I’m adrift in months of limbo, as we all have been during this time, how do I come back?

ppl are getting booed up, finding new ways to care for themselves, etc. with the right precautions and care, some folks are really flourishing in their practices.

certain risks, especially around the grooming most associated with women and femmes, are derided in a way we won’t see with other risks.

like, no, most ppl who keep their nails done aren’t saying this is essential in the vein of grocery stores etc. of course.
but whose measure of essential are we using? there’s no consensus. and a lot of salons and shops are in *trouble* after having been closed for months.

this is further evidence that the model of the before times is completely unsustainable.

because the nice things we can do for ourselves, though not all consumption based, are an indicator of so much. class, race, gender, and how those factors impact the concepts of pleasure we engage.

so, like. my tech needs to make some coin. I want to give her coin and she won’t allow me to gift it to her. so we’re like

because I give a fuck about her safety and shit, I was ready to just slide her some $ on the strength.
because she gives a fuck about me, she said “come early and wear all your PPE. I’ll get you in and out before we get crowded.”
some of this is about trust.

I trust that she’s looking out as best she can. she trusts that I’m not positive AND that I’m not playing fast and loose with my immune system. especially since I think I had this shit in February and there’s a whole new gang of symptoms and after effects reported *daily*.

again, my risk calculations aren’t anyone else’s. I live alone and can be here for weeks if I have to. that’s a huge factor.

I just find it interesting that something I personally value as part of my rest and care is damn near inaccessible to me right now.
who gets to rest?
who receives care?

who’s taking care of my tech when she goes home? who’s looking after her on her time off work?

a lot to think about. and I’m going to see her again, even if it’s a soak off because we expect to be shut down again.
i’m gonna enjoy this color and sparkle though.

in particular ppl’s lives, the act of *making* something nice for yourself may not seem like a treat. versus spending time receiving services/ care. especially if you’re in a helping profession. it’s like ppl assuming therapists will always therapize fam/ friends.

so if you’re making things for/ caring for/ always looking after ppl (as a worker or not) doing your nails or hair yourself may present something that isn’t a treat. some of the treat is in sitting back and not performing the labor.

I just realized the pink collar/ service kinds of jobs that plenty of my fellow “nail girls” work have an impact on how we view being treated/ caring for ourselves.
I always feel better after the barber or a nail appointment bc I’m always doing for someone.

there’s a whole ass surgeon who I used to see at my shop. she was like “my hands save lives; I deserve to see them looking good.” and ... yeah.

okay wow.
thanks for letting me work that out, y’all. cuz now I feel better about being called irresponsible and scoffed at when I said my nails help with my dysmorphia and dissociation.

whew.