Saturday April 26, 2008
Five Feet of Pure Ugly

I woke up this morning and banged straight into the ugly wall. Had a perfect day yesterday; lunch with my friend Daryl in Central Park, read the new Alice Hoffman book, cooked a tray of mac 'n cheese for dinner, no problems. Hair flirty and full of body, not itchy, still a little static so I stuck a headband in it, which calmed it down. Then I gave myself a coffee rinse last night and as soon as my hair dried it looked like the Titanic must have looked when it got the first whiff of that iceberg. My husband Rod, most tactful and gentle of men, had to admit that I was having a bad hair evening. This no'poo thing is different for everyone. Some people do the baking soda thing twice a week, some people just do it once. I was trying to hold out for once a week, and maybe I'll get there eventually after the transition, but I have a very glamorous day ahead of me: bellydance workshop this afternoon, bellydance concert tonight. I cannot afford to look the way I look right now. I look like I crawled through the dream sewer. My hair is so greasy that it's standing up in whorls of its own volition. See that? It has body. And greasy doesn't mean dirty. I am not giving up and using shampoo. Ever again. I am Sicilian, which means I am filled with tenacity. I never abandon a goal. I'm going to try the "dry shampoo" trick with powder first and see where that gets me. In my heart, I was convinced that my transition would not be ugly, since I've been using the Lush natural shampoos, so my scalp could not be so traumatized with chemicals. It feels like an admission of defeat to use the baking soda twice in a week, but that's just because I'm an overachiever. I'm having such a good time washing The Man out of my hair that I can't help but take it to extremes. Some of these flimsy blondes I've been reading about only have to baking soda every few weeks.