What do you do when you love the nail polish color, but the name is booooring?  Do exactly what Tammy, who sat next to me on the plane, did.  She loved the hot pink hue of a particular polish, but wasn't as excited about the name.  So she changed it.  "I call it I Ain't Got None In a While." she told me with a grin on her face.  "And, you know, after putting it on, I got a little bit, and it changed my life!"

Recently when I found myself face-down on the massage table I noticed the massage therapist Michelle's purple nail color on her toenails.  "What's the name of your purple polish?" I asked.  She didn't have one.  She said she liked the color, but not the name that came with it.  "What's one thing you want in any area of your life?" I asked.  "I want to feel happier," she immediately spurted out.  We chatted about what would make her feel happier and why.  By the time I got off the table I drummed up the nail color name Partridge Purple, because, you know, of the Partridge Family song "Come On, Get Happy!"  Hey, whatever works, right?

There I was sitting in the salon chair, and suddenly there was a problem.  Tim, my hair stylist, and Rocio, the nail tech, were not happy with each other.  Tim has just finished shampooing my hair and was about to start my cut.  But while I had been waiting for my hair color to set, Rocio had started my manicure.  (Yes, it's true, I color my hair, or as I like to say, I return it to its natural color.) Problem was, Rocio and I chatted so much that she hadn't yet put on my polish.  Each had other clients arriving in 25 minutes.

The solution:  Tim would cut my hair while Rocio would paint my nails!  What? Before I could form any words and express my apprehension about the idea, they went to work.  Tim was on one side of me and Rocio was parked on the other.  After a few minutes they switched.  When Tim moved to another part of my head, Rocio ducked hair dryer chords to work on my other hand.

All I could think about was that a sudden slip of the scissors and I would look like my sister's Kindergarten photo; the one with a chunk of her bangs missing because she got creative with the scissors.  Or that a sudden slip of the nail brush and polish would be everywhere.

As I watched my personal beauty SWAT team fervently focus their talents, I was suddenly struck with a realization.  "Oh, my gosh!" I exclaimed.  Tim and Rocio immediately paused and their eyes nervously met mine in the mirror.  "With all this attention" I continued "I am soooooo living like my new nail color!"

Rocio smiled wide with agreement and exclaimed "You're right!"

"What do you mean?  What's the name of your nail color?" Tim anxiously asked.

"It's called ... I'm ... Not ... Really... a Supermodel," I dramatically announced and then quickly added "But right now I sure feel like one! Who knows, maybe I'll be in the next Sports Illustrated bathing suit edition.  My hair, height, and weight may be completely different, but you'll know it's me." We all laughed.

Who knew that when I entered the salon two hours before that I'd have a momentary feel-like-a-supermodel experience that matched my nail color?  But when it happened I grabbed it.  I knew it wouldn't last long so I let go of the apprehension I'd been feeling and savored it.  A few minutes later I walked out of the salon looking and feeling better than when I arrived, and thankful that no hair or nail polish was sacrificed in the process.