Friday, January 20, 2006

I am obsessed with my hair.

It's my new hobby, really. One of the cheaper hobbies I've started. When I got into cross-stitch I spent a bunch of money on Aida cloth, floss, kits. I have a cross stitch kit I've been working on for approximately 11 years. Eventually I'll finish it. I took up knitting and made a baby blanket and a buttload of scarfs. One of the scarfs is 8 feet long. I couldn't remember how to bind off the edge. Belly dancing, which I still do for fun sometimes, got expensive for a while. But I still have everything I need for it, so it shouldn't cost me any more money.

Now it's my hair. At RenFaire last year I bought a hairfork because it was hot and I wanted to get my hair off my neck. That first hairfork was like a budding druggie's first hit of crack; I wanted more. I began spending hours online, looking up hairsticks and hairforks. I found message boards and chatrooms dedicated to people who take their hair waaaay too seriously. And then...I became one of them.

A whole new world opened up to me; a world of oils, and seamless combs, and hairtoys, and alternative shampoos. I started small, with a couple of carved bone hairsticks with bunnies on top. I like bunnies. I wanted to try oiling, as my hair was dry. I tried flaxseed oil first, because it was on sale at Walmart and my main goddess is Holda and she gave us flax. I didn't like the smell. I tried coconut oil, also from Walmart, and recommended by several of the longhairs at the sites I'd been visiting. It made my ends crunchy. Yuck. I still have a big tub of it; I guess I can cook with it. I tried jojoba oil. Yay! Nice soft hair, and I add lavender oil to it, so I smell yummy.

I've developed a fear of salons, based on horror stories I hear about women who go in for trims and come out looking like G.I. Jane. I don't want to look like G.I. Jane. I learned to trim my hair myself. I discovered the techique of "search and destroy"; going through your hair looking for split ends and snipping them off one by one. I spent three hours doing this one day. I told this to my best friend and she was concerned. I've managed to cut it down to once a week, an hour at a time. I don't find many split ends anymore; I think I've killed them all.

I learned about apple cider vinegar rinses and began doing them religiously. I heard molasses and honey were good to hair so I began experimenting with them. I learned how to do braids and buns. I slept with a concoction of honey and conditioner in my hair because I was told that would lighten it. I bought jojoba oil and lavender essential oil and pure aloe vera gel and rosewater and herbal shampoo bars. I came home from every trip to Walmart with a new hairtoy. I bought a boar bristle brush and a goofy looking satin sleep cap that makes me look like an insane reject from Little House on the Prairie. I began winding my hair up in strange looking coils before bed so it would be curly when I got up. My husband just sighed and rolled his eyes.

What's the point of all this, you may ask? Lemme tell you, Sunshine: My hair is shiny! And it grew an inch in the last month. Did I forget to mention I bought a tape measure for my hair? Anyway, from forehead to ends it's now 32 inches. My goal is to grow it out enough so that I can braid it into a long flexible club to whack the people who ask me when I'm going to cut my hair.

It's a good hobby to have. Especially if you're cheap.

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