Auf Wiedersehen, Good night, Peace Out!
Sadly, Maggie’s need for balance in her life means saying goodbye to her Maggie Rants blog.
I just wanted to say THANK YOU to everyone who mentioned the word "wax" in their comments regarding my rhinestone adventures. I took a brief "vacation" last week and did the 24-hour Disneyland Leap Year extravaganza

I just wanted to say THANK YOU to everyone who mentioned the word "wax" in their comments regarding my rhinestone adventures.
I took a brief "vacation" last week and did the 24-hour Disneyland Leap Year extravaganza with the BF, so I was MIA until Saturday night, but the BF (who is much more diligent at reading my blog than I am) reported that I had 16 comments and most people were advising me to get a wax pencil.
The BF then asked me what, exactly, a wax pencil was.
Well, heck if I know!
So I did some Googling and kept coming up with it being a synonym for "grease pencil." I remember my grandfather using grease pencils in his woodworking shop when I was a little girl. I really liked the way they "sharpen" — by pulling a little string. You can imagine, my poor grandfather had trouble keeping his grease pencils in usable condition once he'd taught his 6-year-old granddaughter how to "sharpen" them!
But his grease pencils were always black. I don't want a black grease pencil to pick up my rhinestones with — I don't want any color that would smudge on the stones.
BUT … the wax pencil research did give me a great idea. Aha! What about that earthquake wax for holding down valuables in museums?
So, yesterday (Sunday, since I'm writing this Monday night) I made the BF accompany me to the local Orchard Supply Hardware where I purchased not just a couple of Inferno Pepper and cilantro plants, but also these fabulous items: a container of "museum wax" and some sort of weird "pencil" used for touching up scratches on wooden furniture (I chose the one for natural oak finishes; it appeared to be colorless).
Today I am thrilled to report that the furniture touch-up pencil — which is very much like a light tan grease pencil, complete with string-pulling sharpening fun — worked like a charm to pick up my little Fimo cane slices. Not a single one sassed back!
I don't know if I'll end up using the museum wax at all if the pencil continues to wow me, but I just want to hug every one of you for the suggestion!
Sadly, Maggie’s need for balance in her life means saying goodbye to her Maggie Rants blog.
Maggie recalls the time she tried to figure out how to dispose of her salon chemicals.
With a vacation approaching, Maggie can’t wait to put some distance between herself and the drama of the salon.
Maggie doesn’t hesitate to confront clients about past sins.
How sick is too sick for a nail appointment?
Maggie is fed up with clients who won’t get off the phone.
Maggie needs to remind herself that she has options.
Maggie is trading in one writing genre for another.
Maggie knows too much about sanitation to get excited about a strange Jacuzzi tub.
Maggie is no longer certain nails are in her long-term future.
Maggie is learning about the downside of success — scheduling is a nightmare.
Maggie contemplates the limits of her charitable impulses.
Maggie is not too keen on clients bringing in their own nail supplies.
Just because Maggie isn’t with a client doesn’t mean she’s not working.
Twenty-two years of doing nails takes a toll on the hands.
Maggie doesn’t want her product reps dropping by.
Maggie enjoys other people’s drama — up to a point.