Month: July 2011

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Straw Into Gold

They call me Rumpelstiltskin.

I’m telling you that up front, because for a very long time, people could never remember my name. And when I finally could get someone to say my name out loud, I ended up becoming villified by the media for centuries. Never mind the fact that I took a poor girl and elevated her to the richest and most powerful position in the country. Never mind that I brought the kingdom from the brink of financial ruin into economic prosperity. They always forget that point when they tell the story; they like to focus only on the negative bits.

Maybe it’s time I got to tell my side of the story. Maybe you won’t be so quick to judge next time.

It all started when I was a stupid teenager. I was exploring the caves near my house and stumbled upon a pile of old, discarded spinning wheels, probably from The Burning Times (a few generations ago, when the king ordered all the spinning wheels and spindles in the kingdom to be burned. I never could figure out why someone would want to destroy such an important tool of industry, just on the off chance your daughter might be hurt using it. That king had eliminated a major export: fine cloth. The economy had begun to take a nose dive from there, and the kingdom was now heavily in debt. Talk about cutting off your nose to spite your face!).

On the back of the heap, one spinning wheel stood out that looked to be not as broken as the rest. The wood was still in good condition after all these years, and all the parts were still intact.

And then I noticed something glittering on the bobbin. Gold thread!

I rummaged through the rest of the heap for hours, but couldn’t find any more. Still, even this small bit of gold was more than I had seen in my short lifetime; I moved the fly wheel back and forth, watching the gold gleam on the bobbin. There were a few tufts of grass stuck to the orifice, which I tried to pull off, but they did not come off so easily. Instead, the fly wheel seemed to pull the grass through the orifice right onto the bobbin, transforming it into gold right in front of my eyes.

With the sun already beginning to set, I wasted no time. I strapped the entire spinning wheel to my back and returned to my house, imagining how excited my family would be when I showed them this unusual object.

To my dismay, nobody recognized me when I came home. No matter what I did or said, my family and neighbors treated me like a complete stranger — and nobody in town liked strangers. I was beaten and left for dead by the side of the road, with my spinning wheel still strapped to my back.

I was discovered the next day by an old wise-woman who had been cast out of the town years ago after being accused of witchcraft. She took pity on me and brought me to her home in the middle of the woods. It was she who told me that I should never have put my hands on such a powerful magical item. “You’ve probably been cursed with anonymity,” she informed me as she nursed me back to health. “I’ve seen this kind of thing before.”

I sat up in bed. “You have? Is there any cure? Should I destroy the spinning wheel?”

She chuckled. “The previous owners obviously couldn’t destroy it. What makes you think you can?”

“Then what should I do? How do I get my life back?”

Her withered face turned thoughtful. “If you can find someone who will remember your name and say it out loud, the curse should be broken.”

“Then do it. Say my name.”

“What is it, dear?”

“It’s Rumpelstiltskin.”

“I’m sorry, what? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Rumpelstiltskin.”

We went back and forth like this for several minutes, until she finally shook her head. “I think the curse is too strong for me. The second after you tell me your name, I forget it. You’ll have to find someone who is really stubborn and has a really strong motivation for remembering your name.”

The wise-woman let me stay with her, and in return I helped her around the house and the garden. Knowing I was stuck with the spinning wheel, I decided to put it to work for me. I learned how to spin straw into gold. I never spun too much, but we were able to afford plenty of fresh-milled corn and flour, and I kept us both well-clothed.

Every night after dinner, the wise-woman and I would sit in front of the fire and brainstorm ways to break my curse. Our plans got more and more elaborate as the months wore on, although we both knew that in all likelihood I would never find a cure.

Two winters after she found me, the wise-woman died. I stayed in her house, took care of her garden, but with every passing year, I became more and more determined to find someone who could speak my name out loud and break the curse. Every night I made plans, just like the wise-woman and I used to do, but I did so patiently and methodically. I learned how to read people and manipulate them through their greed. It’s amazing what people will do for gold. I should know.

I got my lucky break a few decades later, when a new miller moved into town. His eyes lit up the first time I brought my strands of gold to him as payment for flour. He invited me to dinner that night, and I knew he was hoping to foist his daughter off on me to get to my gold. I happily accepted.

His daughter was very beautiful, but she was not very bright. She paid more attention to her looks than her domestic duties; dinner that evening was terrible. She seemed frightened by her father and shy around me. When her father left us alone together, I tried to make her a little more comfortable.

“You’re not very attracted to me, are you?” I asked bluntly.

“Oh…uh–” she stammered, glancing nervously at her father’s silhouette in the garden.

“It’s okay. I know I’m no catch.” My beating so many years ago had left me with a disfigured face and one leg that had healed shorter than the other.

“My father thinks you would make a good husband.”

I peered closely at her. “Don’t you want to know my name first?”

“Oh, of course!” she answered, giggling. “But I know your name already, don’t I?”

“Do you? What is it?”

“It’s…um…it’s…I can’t remember.” Her bright blue eyes welled with tears. “But I’m sure I know it!”

I gently placed my hand on her arm, and she flinched slightly. She was perfect for my plans. “Don’t worry, my dear,” I said. “I don’t actually want to get married.”

She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Would you like to be my friend instead?”

“Friend?” Her eyes widened. “I…suppose,” she answered. “As long as Father doesn’t mind,” she added, the nervous edge coming back into her voice.

That’s when I put my plan into action. I gave the miller’s daughter some of my golden strands and told her to keep them in her yarn basket. I visited often, bringing more and more golden strands, especially when I noticed her father taking them for himself. I set up the road block that caused the king to pass by the miller’s house that day, and I was the one who suggested to her that she start spinning by the road, with her shiny golden strands hanging out of her basket.

I was all too happy to oblige her when she came to me for help after the king demanded that she spin straw into gold. And at the end of every night that I would deliver her gold, I would see her slumped over her spinning wheel, dried tears streaking her cheeks. “My name is Rumpelstiltskin,” I would whisper in her ear. “Tell the king who is helping you. Say my name and we shall both be free.”

But she never said my name.

That last evening, I arrived in her cell, and I was angry. “What is my name?” I demanded.

“I don’t remember,” she replied. “I know you’ve done so much for me…but I need your help again. I’ll give you anything.”

I pretended to think about it, but I knew what I was going to ask for. “Will you give me your first born child?”

She gasped. For a moment, I thought she was going to refuse, but she glanced at the skein of gold I held in my hand. She nodded. “Anything.”

And so I brought her the rest of the gold and whispered my name in her ear at dawn.

The king, pleased with all the riches this stupid woman had provided him, married her. I sent her messages, trying to remind her who I was, trying to get her to say my name, but the harder I tried, the less she remembered me.

Finally, she gave birth to a son. And I watched from afar as she nursed and cooed over her baby. Finally, I thought. She will have motivation.

In the middle of the night, I sneaked into the nursery and plucked the sleeping baby out of his cradle.

“I knew you would come.” She had been sleeping in a chair near the cradle and had woken up as I had entered the room.

“We had a deal.”

“I know…but…he’s my baby. I can’t let him go. I just can’t.”

I sighed and put the baby back down. He tossed and cooed but did not awaken. “Then I have a deal for you. Say my name, my true name, and I will never return.”

“But I don’t know it!” She began to weep in frustration.

“Well, then, I’m sorry. I’ll just have to take–”

“No!” she cried. “Give me three days. Three days, and I’ll figure out your name.”

We stared at each other for a long time. Finally, I turned and limped out of the room. “Three days, your majesty. And then your son is mine.”

You know the rest of the story; she used the vast resources she had at her disposal to find out my name, but the curse affected everyone. It wasn’t until she followed me out into the woods herself and saw me in front of my little cottage, singing a song about my name.

She thought she was the victor; she thought she had saved her baby and defeated the monster — that’s what she told people I was, after everything I did for her! What she never realized was that I was just as much of a winner as she.

Once my veil of anonymity was lifted, I had no desire to go anywhere near that cursed spinning wheel again. I tried starting over again, but the queen was so afraid that I would tell everyone that she hadn’t spun the straw into gold that she spread terrible rumors about me (That bit about me stamping my feet until I fell into hell? Not true. I happened to step on a rotted board and got my leg stuck in the floor for about a second. They don’t keep those palaces in nearly as good shape as you might think). I hoped to put the past behind me, but the rumors kept following me, wherever I went. I almost began to wish for anonymity again. Almost.

All those years of planning paid off, though. I knew exactly how to pay her back for making me infamous. I waited until her son had grown and her husband had died, and then I had the spinning wheel hand-delivered to the queen. She couldn’t resist touching it.

Think about it: in all the times you have heard this story, did you ever learn what her name was?

This week’s Indie Ink challenge came from Jurgen Nation, who gave me this prompt:

Name something (a person, place or thing). Then take it from there.

I challenged Stefan, who answered his prompt in kick-ass fashion here.

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Project No-Poo (Part 5): Staying on the wagon?

If you are just tuning in, read my previous posts about Project No-Poo:
[Part 1 – Why no poo?]
[Part 2 – Becoming a dirty, dirty hippie]
[Part 3 – Conditionally unconditioned]
[Part 4 – What happens when you put vinegar in your hair]

After all these experiments and my intense detox period, I noticed that I was starting to run really low on my Terressentials Mud Hair Wash. Should I buy more? Should I try something different? I looked at the pros and cons of the mud wash.

The Good

Surprisingly, the mud works as a cleanser. It takes a while to get used to putting mud in your hair (and more importantly, making sure you wash all of it out!), but it really does get the dirt and oils out, and even more importantly, it pulls out all the silicones and waxes and other synthetic stuff after a while. If you ever just want to go through a hair detox, I would recommend it highly.

At $1.28-$2.00 per ounce (depending on the size), it’s three times more expensive than my old shampoo ($0.40 per ounce); but since I only plan on using it once every 5-7 days, I figure I’d actually be spending less money in the long run with the mud hair wash.

The Terressentials product line is 100% USDA-certified organic, and it’s free of detergents, sulfates, or any synthetic chemicals. My tree-hugging conscience can rest easy because I’m not doing any harm to the environment, and I have to admit, I like watching people do double-takes when I tell them that I wash my hair with mud.

The Bad

As one might guess, washing your hair with mud does have its down side. My tub looked like I had committed the gruesome murder of a golem every time I used the hair wash. This was especially true during the detox period. I had to scrub the bathtub every day, which was a little annoying, to say the least. (I suppose if I’m only going to use the mud once a week, that’ll give me a good excuse to clean the tub when I’m supposed to clean it anyway, right?)

I also began having serious issues with my drain. My husband and I both have long hair, and he has a beard, so we have a heavy-duty hair catcher over our drain, which I empty after each shower. Clearly the mud was going down the drain and getting clogged on some hair that had made it through the hair catcher, so I had to get in there with a Zip-It and pull out some nasty stuff. I really didn’t want to use a harsh chemical drain cleaner for several reasons (primarily because this whole experiment has been about being all eco-conscious and stuff), so I used an earth-friendly enzyme drain cleaner, which worked just fine…but the plain fact of the matter is, the mud does clog the drain.

The Hairy

If I am going to continue with the Terressentials product, it was clear I’d also have to supplement my hair regimen with some sort of conditioner. The mud works by taking away dirt and oils, but it also takes away the natural oils as well (which is why you aren’t supposed to use it every day). Hence the frizz. The Shea Butter Curl-Defining Gel does a good job of post-shower styling, but one thing I noticed is that it is rather heavy, and I’m not exactly sure how good a conditioner it is.

Back to Coconut Oil

While I was at Whole Foods looking for shea butter, I also picked up a jar of coconut oil (organic, unrefined coconut oil, with nothing else added) to try on my hair as a natural conditioner. The last time I used coconut oil, I used some cheap petroleum- and wax-filled product, which didn’t work out so well…but this time I went for the real deal.

Applying the coconut oil

Everything I had read about coconut oil said that I should apply it about an hour before taking a shower, or even let it stay in my hair overnight. I guess this gives the oil time to soak into the hair shaft and makes it harder to wash out or something…I’m not entirely sure. Nevertheless, I diligently applied the oil to my hair, little by little, until it was completely covered.

Coconut oil is extremely easy to apply. It’s solid at room temperature, but once you get it on your hands, the warmth of your hands melts it right away. so I was using only a little bit at a time. I spent more time making sure my canopy curls got a lot of coverage, because they were the ones that needed the most help.

When I was done, my hair was super shiny! I looked in the mirror and this song came to mind:

It was also pretty greasy, so I didn’t want to keep it in overnight; plus, I worried about the oil going rancid if I left it in for too long. I opted for washing it out after an hour.

But here was my big problem: I had almost completely run out of mud wash by this point. I definitely didn’t have enough to get all this coconut oil out. Should I go back to shampoo to get the excess oil out of my hair?

Castile Soap

Sitting at the edge of my tub was Dr. Bronner’s Lavender Liquid Soap, which is about as crunchy-granola-hippie as you can get. I knew this was safe to put in my hair, for sure. I got in the shower and started to get my hair wet. The coconut oil started to take on a little waxy texture, which made it hard for me to run my fingers through my hair.

I poured a little bit of the liquid soap into my hands and began to distribute it through my hair, making extra sure to massage my scalp and work up a little bit of lather. I happen to know that with Dr. Bronner’s soap, a little bit goes a LONG way, so I went little by little until my hair was detangled enough that I could run my fingers through it again.

Success! The coconut oil made my hair really soft, and the castile soap washed all of the excess oil away. Since I didn’t need to style it, I did not apply any shea butter gel; I simply dried my hair and got ready for bed. The next morning, I wet my hair and styled it with the shea butter gel, and I was good to go.

My New Hair Regimen

I did end up buying more Terressentials mud wash. I am going to use it once a week to get rid of the dirt and build-up, but if I feel like I need to clean my hair more often, I will use Dr. Bronner’s. I’ll give myself a deep conditioning treatment of coconut oil every so often — maybe every other week? I’m not sure yet — and I will use the Beautiful Girls shea butter gel after each shower to activate my curls and hold the moisture in the hair so I can keep my curls all day long. I’m still on the hunt for a nice leave-in conditioner, but I want to keep the synthetics out of my hair, so it’s got to be something special. I’ve also ordered some of Terressentials’ Cocoa Butter Body Oil as a possible conditioner…I’ll report on that as soon as I try it out.

Throughout this entire process, I’ve gotten advice from all sorts of people on what to do and how to maximize my curls. Everyone has a different regimen because everyone’s hair is different, but most people I have talked to don’t think you can do it without synthetics. I aim to prove them wrong.

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Project No-Poo (Part 4): What happens when you put vinegar in your hair

If you are just tuning in, read my previous posts about Project No-Poo:
[Part 1 – Why no poo?] [Part 2 – Becoming a dirty, dirty hippie]
[Part 3 – Conditionally unconditioned]

After the detox period, I was still struggling with my frizzy hair, especially on the top layer (the “canopy curls,” according to Curly Girl: The Handbook). My “crouching curls” (the protected layers of tightly coiled curls found close to the scalp and underneath the canopy, according to Massey) were doing quite well, despite my recent abuse. But then again, the crouching curls have never gone away for as long as I have had hair.

An example of Early Music Hair. That's not me! I promise.

What I was really worried about was that top layer. When it gets dry and frizzy, the whole shape of my head looks weird, and I really didn’t want to develop EMH (Early Music Hair – that inevitable descent into truly looking like a hippie, especially amongst those who specialize in early music…which I do sometimes…yikes! See photo)

Apple Cider Vinegar

After my last bouts with less-than-all-natural curl solutions, I decided to go the apple cider vinegar (ACV) route; at least I knew that only contained one ingredient. A quick search told me that I should dilute 1-2 tablespoons of ACV in 1 cup of water. I had slightly more than 2 tablespoons of ACV left in my pantry, so I fudged the ratio a little bit…but I took my bottle of ACV solution into the shower with me to try it out.

Here’s the thing: ACV totally works. it seals the hair cuticle and keeps moisture in, which cuts down on frizz and makes your hair shiny. My hair felt and looked great. I could run my hands through my hair easily, without getting stuck or tangled. However, if you do decide to do it, I have a few caveats based on my own experience:

1. NEVER, ever, pour an ACV solution over your head in the shower after you have shaved. I did, and it stung! Ouchy. If I do it again, I’ll be using the rinse over the sink.

2. Make sure if you’re going to fudge the ratio like I did, err on the side of more dilute rather than more concentrated. After my little experiment in the shower, I thought I had rinsed all of my ACV solution, but I was plagued with the smell of vinegar all day long. I had to apologize to my colleagues for my Salad Head, and my husband told me (as he wrinkled his nose) that I smelled like boardwalk fries. NOT SEXY.

Shea Butter

I finally decided to take a trip to Whole Foods and see what kind of hippie hair products I could find that were über natural and synthetic-free. Whole Foods also sells my old conditioner, so I knew that just because Whole Foods carried it didn’t necessarily mean I didn’t have to read the labels. I had read quite a bit about the benefits of shea butter to seal moisture in the hair shafts, so I decided to look for plain old shea butter or at least something with no synthetics in it.

The only shea butter product that I could find on the shelves that had any kind of smell or consistency that I liked was Beautiful Curls, and of their products, the only ones that appealed to me were their Leave-In Conditioner and Curl-Defining Gel. I took a look at the ingredients:

Curl Activating Shea Butter Leave-In Conditioner: Comfrey (Symphytum officinale) Extract (aqueous), Arnica (Arnica montana) Extract (aqueous), Certified Fair Trade Shea Butter (Butyrospermum parkii), Virgin Coconut Oil (Cocos nucifera), Cetearyl Alcohol (and) Behentrimonium Chloride, Emulsifying Wax, Panthenol, Potassium Sorbate, Magnesium Sulfate, Choline Chloride, Coconut Oil (and) Raspberry Fruit Extract (and) Ylang Ylang Flower Extract, Citric Acid.

For the most part, these ingredients are fine. But cetearyl alcohol and behentrimonium chloride are synthetic chemicals, and magnesium sulfate, although naturally occurring, is one of those dreaded sulfates that people warn about when talking about how bad shampoo is for you. I put the bottle back on the shelf.

The curl-defining gel seemed to have more basic, non-synthetic ingredients.

Shea Butter Curl-Defining Gel: Chamomile (Matricaria recutita) Extract (aqueous), Yarrow (Achillea millefolium) Extract (aqueous), Aloe Vera Gel (Aloe barbadensis), Agave (Agave azul) Extract, Certified Fair Trade Shea Butter (Butyrospermum parkii), Panthenol, Coconut Oil (and) Apricot Fruit Extract (and) Ylang Ylang Flower Extract , Xanthan Gum, Guar Gum, Potassium Sorbate, Citric Acid.

The Curly Girl handbook suggests putting a gel in your hair while it’s still wet, to seal in the moisture, so I figured this gel might be just the ticket. A quick search for Beautiful Curls on my iPhone brought up an explanation of their Fair Trade practices for the shea butter farming and production, and not only that, the package told me that 10% of my purchase would go towards benefiting their West African community empowerment projects. It wasn’t super cheap, but it wasn’t the most expensive thing on the shelf, either…and I was hoping I wouldn’t have to use it on a daily basis.

So what happened when I used it?

Not too shabby.

[Coming Up: Part 5 (the final chapter) – Staying on the wagon?]

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Scrabbled

[Part 1] [Part 2]
“I know you’re keeping something from me.”

Rhonda looked up, startled.

“Admit it,” Rob said. “You can’t hide something like this forever.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Rhonda shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She was getting big. Too big to be sitting at the dining room table, too big to look sexy, and far too big to have any patience for games like this.

“You think I wouldn’t figure it out? You have the Q.”

Rhonda’s shoulders relaxed imperceptibly as she gazed down at the Scrabble board between them. She had been so careful not to have any further contact with Charlie since she had found out about the pregnancy. Almost every night she had lain awake, wondering if she had made the right choice. Her heart still raced at the thought of Charlie. The baby kicked in response.

She looked back up at Rob. “How could you possibly know?” She shuffled her tiles around, eyeing the openings on the board.

“The power of deduction.” Rob looked so pleased with himself. “There’s no Q on the board, I don’t have it, and there are only three tiles left.”

“How do you know the Q isn’t one of those three?”

“I don’t. I’m just pretty sure you have it. You have that look in your eyes like you’re going to score big. Besides, I left something wide open for you if you do have a Q.”

“Oh, you’re trying to go easy on me now?”

“Never!”

Despite her discomfort, Rhonda found her lips curling up into a smile. Playing Scrabble with Rob was one of the perks of their newfound intimacy. They still had their differences — sometimes they could really get under each other’s skin — but since she had announced her delicate condition, he went out of his way to spend quality time with her. He would rub her feet, cook meals for her, and even take her shopping. But the best part of it all were these game nights. She had forgotten how smart Rob was, how well-matched they were mentally.

With an over-exaggerated sigh, she pulled out a Q and laid it on the board, and followed it with an A and an I, to make the word “QAID,” attached perpendicularly to the first letter of Rob’s recent addition: DUMB. Their scores were so close that she worried about wasting the 10-point letter on a non-doubling or -tripling space, but as Rob had pointed out, there were only three tiles left. He could easily go out during the next turn, and then she’d be stuck with 10 points to subtract from her score. She’d always hated losing at Scrabble, and losing with a large point margin was unacceptable.

Rob broke out in a grin. “Just as I had suspected.”

“I fell right into your trap, eh?”

“Exactly.”

Rob’s phone rang, and she frowned at him as he pulled it out of his pocket. He gave her an apologetic look, but he still answered, putting it up to his ear and turning away from her.

She reached into the bag and pulled out the last three tiles, placing them on her tile rack. As she rearranged her letters, the baby kicked again. Who knew that a baby would bring the life back into their marriage? She thought things between them had essentially died before she had seduced him that night. Now they were treating each other with respect again. They were even having sex again, on a regular basis, and it was good. Not as good as it was with Charlie, a small voice in her head insisted. She shook her head, as if trying to dislodge that voice. It’s good enough, she told that voice. More than I deserve.

Rob hung up the phone and looked at it quizzically.

“Who was that? And did you tell whoever it was that you were busy losing spectacularly to your wife?”

Rob was silent for a few seconds. “Remember how I told you about that strange guy at the party?”

“The mystery crasher with the fancy mask? My girlfriends still can’t stop talking about him.” She kept a smile on her face, but looked at him warily. From her friends’ description, she could only guess that Charlie had crashed the party. She never saw him that night, however, and since his emails and texts stopped abruptly after the party, she figured his encounter with Rob that night made him realize that she’d never leave her husband. At least that’s what she had hoped.

“That’s the one. He wants to see me.”

Rhonda felt a huge lump growing in her throat. “How did he get your number?”

“I’m not sure.”

“What does he want to talk about?”

“He didn’t say.” He put his phone back in his pocket and looked straight at her. Deliberately.

“Be careful, Rob,” she said slowly, hoping her voice didn’t belie her nervousness. “Now that you’re running for office, everybody wants you to do them a favor.”

He shrugged. “It’s probably guy stuff. He’s a pretty decent dude; I wouldn’t mind helping him out.” As if to change the subject, he pulled out his tiles and laid them on the board, spelling TRUST. It was a triple word score, over which he wasted no time gloating.

She glanced at her tiles and gasped as she saw the letters arranged in the word that would give her the win. Charlie’s call had stolen the levity from the evening, and all she wanted now was to get as far away from Rob as possible. She needed time to think, to figure out a plan, some way to keep Charlie quiet.

Forcing her lips into a big smile, she made a show of slowly placing the rest of her tiles on the board. “I think you’ll find that your best efforts were in vain, babe,” she said just a little too happily. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom for the 40th time today.”

Rob watched her leave, his brows furrowing slightly at her behavior. He looked down at the board and frowned even more as he saw Rhonda’s seven-letter winning word: SECRECY.

This week’s Indie Ink Challenge comes from rishaaa, who gave me this prompt:

She’d always hated losing at Scrabble.

I decided to continue the story of Rhonda, Rob, and Charlie. If you haven’t read the previous posts and you’re a little confused, start here and then continue here.

You can find Dee’s response to my prompt here before the end of the week.

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Project No-Poo (Part 3): Conditionally Unconditioned

[Part 1: Why no poo?] [Part 2: Becoming a dirty, dirty hippie]

Day 4: the curls are slowly coming back

Throughout the week-long detox period, my hair continued to frizz, although some of the curls were coming back on their own. But it’s difficult to style your hair when you know that whenever you touch it, your curls are going to fall apart and become big old frizzballs. Luckily, the weather was helping me; I knew I was going to have to put my hair up every day because of the heat, so I kept my hair bound in braids, which I thinkhelped trap moisture in my hair.

I read through the Terressentials instructions again and saw that people with my hair type (wavy, coarse, salt & pepper) should use not the fragrance free hair wash that I was using, but one of the washes with some essential oils added. Luckily I had also bought samples of the Lavender Garden and Sultry Spice hair washes, so I started using those. Just that little bit of essential oil made it so much easier to run my hands through my hair in the shower. I was pretty amazed. And it smelled nice, too (although, as my husband pointed out, it still didn’t smell like me).

Day 5 - it's still too frizzy for my taste.

Still, once my hair dried, it would get frizzy again, and I was beginning to get a little skeptical about the whole process.

Morroccan Oil

I was talking over my hair woes with my friend Becky, who recommended to me that I use Morroccan Oil. “It does have some synthetic chemicals in it,” she said, “but it’s really great for my hair. I only use a tiny bit each day, and it keeps my hair from frizzing. I love it.”

She gave me a tiny bottle of it, just to try for myself and see if I like it.

At this point, I was willing to try anything to get rid of the frizz (because I’m impatient like that), so I put some in my hair the next day.

Bad idea! First of all, I started out with a very small amount and ran it through my hair with my fingers. The trouble is, I have a LOT of hair. That little bit may have made a few strands nice and shiny and moist, but did nothing for the rest of my hair. And the more I ran my hands through my hair, the frizzier it got. I tried using a little bit more oil for more coverage, but with no good effect. I gave up and braided my hair. Again.

Secondly, the smell was very musky, and not my favorite at all. It made me feel a little woozy and I was sneezing all day long, which makes me think I was allergic to something in the product. I checked the ingredients.

Cyclopentasiloxane, Dimethicone, Cyclomethicone, Butylphenyl Methylpropional, Argania Spinoza Kernel Oil (Aragan Oil), Linseed Extract (Linum Usitatissimum), Fragrance (Supplement), D&C Yellow 11, D&C Red 17, Coumarin, Benzyl Benzoate, Alpha Isomethyl Ionone.

Yikes! So much for being a tree-hugger. Then I read this blog about Morroccan Oil. I probably should have read that FIRST…but like I said, I’m impatient.

Coconut Oil

I clearly needed SOMETHING to moisturize my hair. After some research on the internet (and if you read it on the internet, it must be true, right?), I decided the next best way to control the frizz is with coconut oil.

This stuff is wildly popular, especially amongst women with really kinky hair. I easily found a small jar of really cheap coconut oil at my local drug store and tried it out.

My first impressions just opening the jar: the smell was much nicer. It reminded me of Hawaii and my dad’s coconut tanning oil. But I immediately thought of another friend who hates coconut…what if he stopped hanging out with me because of the way I smelled? I decided to take the risk and apply it to my hair.

This coconut oil was in a thick, solid, almost-gel form, which was easier to apply than the very thin Morroccan Oil. On the other hand, it was kind of goopy and got all over the place. My hair did not respond to the oil right away, but like most gels and mousses, it made my hair easy to style. I could create finger curls very easily. I was just hoping that my hair wouldn’t dry all crunchy the way it does when you put gel in your hair.

When it dried, my hair was nice and soft. I was pleasantly surprised! But the next day in the shower, it was really sticky and hard to get my hands through my hair. I had to go through two washings with the mud hair wash to get my hair back to its natural state.

Confused, I looked at the jar again. The front says “Pure Coconut Oil,” but the ingredient list says: Petrolatum, Coconut Oil (Cocos Nucifera), Jojoba Seed Oil (Simmondsia Chinensis), Paraffin, Mineral Oil, Fragrance, BHT.

Definitely not purely coconuts, and most of it not natural. The petrolatum and paraffin were probably what was making my hair so sticky.

Curse you, deceptive packaging! (I wish I wasn’t so impatient. I need to start reading the labels BEFORE I stick stuff in my hair.)

I did find out later that there are coconut oils out there that are purely cold-pressed coconut oil, with no additives. But you can’t get them at a drug store; you have to go to Whole Foods or the natural section of the grocery store. I might still try that kind when I’m done with the rest of my experimenting, but for now, my jar of Softee Coconut Oil has gone in the trash.

[Coming Up: Part 4 – What happens when you put vinegar in your hair]

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Project No-Poo (Part 2): Becoming a dirty, dirty hippie

[Part 1: Why no poo?]

Right around the same time I decided on a new hair regimen, I was flipping through the channels and found myself watching Dirty Jobs. (Side note: I love Mike Rowe, and I don’t care who knows it. He is my TV boyfriend, second only to Jon Stewart). He was working at a company making hair wash — not shampoo! — out of mud.

I looked up the company, Terressentials, and perused their website. I then turned to various message boards for reviews on this mud wash, as well other no-poo hair wash alternatives. My biggest concern was how to get my hair clean without shampoo. The most popular no-poo methods these days are (in no particular order):

I ran through this list with my mother, and she recalled her grandmother using the baking soda/vinegar solution. This was back before shampoo as we know it was even invented. I wasn’t keen on putting baking soda on my head, though, especially since some of the message boards and blogs reported itchy scalp and even dandruff as a result.

I had heard good things about the DevaCurl product line, but I didn’t want to start off with products like this. First of all, it’s more than three times the price of my current shampoo; more importantly, it seemed awfully convenient that this book should endorse a haircare regimen and then provide the exact solution to the problems this regimen would cause.

So it was either castile soap (I’m a big fan of Dr. Bronner’s castile soap and use it daily as a body wash) or the mud wash. I decided to go out on a limb and try the mud. Because I’m crazy like that. Plus, I thought it would be a fun experiment.

I ordered the Terressentials hair wash online, and the bottles were at my doorstep the next day. When I opened up the box, there was a piece of paper with FAQs and instructions on how to go through a hair detox — the week-long period where my hair would adjust to being cleaned with all-natural products instead of synthetic molecules and detergents.

My first impression of the mud hair wash: it’s weird. This stuff really is made of mud — bentonite clay (and other clay minerals, I suppose), which is the same stuff people use to make clay masks. The clay adheres to the dirt and oils and other stuff in your hair; then when you wash the mud out, it takes the bad stuff along with it, down the drain. But you have to put mud in your hair, and that takes some getting used to.

Not only that, but I found that it was very difficult to run my hands through my hair with all that mud in it. That meant my hair got hopelessly tangled that first day, and I ended up combing it all out and putting it into a braid.

The second day, I was somewhat surprised to see my hair looked halfway decent before getting in the shower.

Day 2: This is my hair before getting in the shower.

However, after my shower, the result was somewhat worse: the multiple washings with mud just dried out my hair and made everything very tangled and frizzy.

After my shower, however, I started to develop a bad case of EMH (Early Music Hair)

Suffice to say I kept my hair in braids for the entire week of the detox and prayed my hair follicles would start producing those oils that would stop my hair from frizzing.

[Coming Up: Part 3 – Conditionally Unconditioned]

Some tips and resources for people interested in finding out more about the no-poo movement:

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Project No-Poo (Part 1): Why no poo?

It all started when a friend of mine asked if I had read Curly Girl: The Handbook. This was a couple of years ago, and my friend started telling me about how this book was encouraging people not to use shampoo.

“No shampoo?” I asked. “That seems a little silly. How do you get your hair clean?”

The point of it all, she explained, was that most shampoos contained sulfates and detergents that stripped natural oils from your hair, which was bad for you and bad for the environment. You certainly don’t need to shampoo every day; she said she was only shampooing her hair once a week, and that kept everything plenty clean.

Intrigued, I started cutting down on my shampoo use and found that it didn’t make any difference at all in my hair quality. I asked my friend a little more about this Curly Girl thing.

“You’re also supposed to not wash out your conditioner,” she said. “And stop combing your hair.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You can use your fingers to get the tangles out, but apparently even combs can break the hairs. Plus, you don’t want to separate the hairs from each other once they have curled. The conditioner helps hold the hairs together.”

I started going through three times more conditioner than shampoo, with pretty good results. My hair, for the most part, retained a curl, or at least a wave. And I love the way my conditioner smells, so it was all good.

Or so I thought.

Then, several months ago, another dear friend pulled me aside and told me that he was highly allergic to something in my conditioner. He didn’t know what it was, but he asked if I could please use less of it.

I was stumped (and a little bit hurt). I knew my conditioner was fragrant, but I had gotten many comments over the years about how nice my hair smelled. Plus, I had been using the stuff since high school, and the shampoo/conditioner combination that I had been using was somewhat of a signature and a part of my own identity. Never mind the fact that I could only find this brand at Whole Foods Market — a sure sign that it was full of organic hippie goodness. How could he possibly be allergic to something so crunchy granola?

Just to make sure I was right about the organic nature of my shampoo, I went to my bathroom and checked the ingredients:

Nature’s Gate Herbal Shampoo: Water, Sodium Cocoyl Isethionate (Coconut Derived), Cocamidopropyl Hydroxysultaine (Coconut Derived), Disodium Cocoamphodiacetate (Coconut Derived), Glycerin (Vegetable Derived), Panthenol, Hydrolyzed Soy Protein, Hydrolyzed Vegetable Protein, Simmondsia Chinensis (Jojoba) Seed Oil, Borago Officinalis (Borage) Seed Oil, Tocopherol (Vitamin E), Ascorbic Acid (Vitamin C), Achillea Millefolium (Yarrow) Extract, Chamomilla Recutita (Matricaria) Flower Extract, Lavandula Angustifolia (Lavender) Flower Extract, Rosmarinus Officinalis (Rosemary) Leaf Extract, Salvia Officinalis (Sage) Leaf Extract, Urtica Dioica (Nettle) Extract, Prunus Serotina (Wild Cherry) Bark Extract, Thymus Vulgaris (Thyme) Leaf Extract, Ascorbyl Palmitate, Sorbitan Sesquicaprylate (Coconut and Corn Derived), Polysorbate 20, Hydroxypropyl Methylcellulose (Plant Derived), Sodium Hydroxide, Glyceryl Undecylenate (Vegetable Derived), Phenoxyethanol, Fragrance*.

OK, so there were a lot more multi-syllabic chemical names than I expected; there is clearly a lovely herbal element to it, with the jojoba and borage seed oils, yarrow and rosemary extracts, but only after the large amounts of cocamidopropyl hydroxysultaine and hydrolyzed soy protein. These aren’t the worst things you could find in a shampoo, but the fact of the matter is that they are synthetically produced chemicals: not very crunchy-granola-hippie at all! I could have sworn that when I first started using this product back in the 1990s, I could understand the label a lot better, which signals to me that Nature’s Gate may have tinkered with the recipe over the years. Maybe it was a good thing that I wasn’t using as much of the shampoo anymore.

Then I looked at the ingredients in my conditioner.

Nature’s Gate Herbal Conditioner: Water, Quaternium-87 (Vegetable Derived), Cetearyl Alcohol (Vegetable Derived), Glycerin (Vegetable Derived), Polysorbate 60, Panthenol, Hydrolyzed Soy Protein, Hydrolyzed Vegetable Protein, Simmondsia Chinensis (Jojoba) Seed Oil, Borago (Borage) Officinalis Seed Oil, Tocopherol (Vitamin E), Ascorbic Acid (Vitamin C), Chamomilla Recutita (Matricaria) Extract, Urtica Dioica (Nettle) Extract, Prunus Serotina (Wild Cherry) Bark Extract, Lavandula Angustifolia (Lavender) Extract, Arctium Lappa (Burdock) Root Extract, Yucca Schidigera Root Extract, Lilium Candidum (Lily) Bulb Extract, Nelumbo Nucifera (Sacred Lotus) Flower Extract, Quercus Alba (Oak Bark) Bark Extract, Ascorbyl Palmitate, Phenoxyethanol, Glyceryl Undecylenate (Vegetable Derived), Citric Acid (Vegetable Derived), Fragrance*, Caramel.
*Phthalate free

So maybe one of those funky alcohols or molecules was emanating from my scalp and causing my friend to have an allergic reaction. I mean, what the heck was Quaternium-87 anyway? I decided it was time for a new hair regimen.

I decided to take the no-poo movement seriously.

[Coming Up: Part 2 – Becoming A Dirty, Dirty Hippie]

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Masked Man Fallacy

[For Part 1 of this story, click here.]

“Wait, who was that masked man?”

Charlie ducked into the hallway and flattened himself against the wall. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He had crashed this party on an impulse and hadn’t really thought out any kind of plan. All he knew was that he had to see Rhonda.

He pulled off his mask to take a look at it. Who knew that such a little thing would attract so much attention? Yes, he’d made his own mask, because he had known that this party was supposed to be some sort of masquerade. But he’d imagined something along the lines of Kubrik’s Eyes Wide Shut, so he had created a papier-mâché Venetian mask with a certain amount of detail, including gold leaf and Swarovski crystals. He thought he would be able to blend in with the crowd.

Nothing was going the way he had expected. Rhonda, ever sensible, knew that most of her guests could not be bothered to come up with their own masks, so she had set up a table outside the ballroom with brightly-colored half-masks, some on strings and others on sticks, but none of them decorated. His elaborate design stuck out like a diamond in a plate of sand; he was instantly surrounded by people who wanted to know more about his mask, his art, and most especially, his name. Frustrated, he had fled the ballroom and now found himself alone in the hallway.

The door next to him opened rather rapidly, and a tall man in a plain white mask, clearly agitated, brushed past him on his way to the veranda. Curious, Charlie followed him outside.

“Do you have a light?” The man already had a cigarette in his mouth, but was shaking his empty lighter despondently.

Charlie pulled out a cardboard matchbook from his jacket pocket and handed it to the man.

“Thanks.” The man tried to strike the a couple of matches, but the striking surface was very worn, and he ended up breaking off the heads each time.

“Here, let me do it,” Charlie offered. He deftly folded the matchbook cover backwards, pulled the match through, and it instantly ignited. Relieved, the man leaned forward to light his cigarette and took a few puffs in silence.

“I owe you, man,” the man said. “My wife has been trying to get me to quit. It’s not as easy as it looks.”

“It doesn’t look easy at all.” Charlie had already pulled out his own cigarette and held it up as a salute before he put it in his mouth. “I’m sure I’ll quit eventually…just not now.”

The man chuckled and held out his hand. “I’m Rob,” he said.

Charlie grasped it warmly. “Charlie.”

“So,” Rob asked as he sat down in a wicker chair, “who did you come here with?”

“Well…” Charlie hesitated to reveal the whole truth to his new friend. “I showed up alone, but I was hoping to go home with someone, if you know what I mean,” he said with a crooked smile.

Rob smiled. “Uh-oh. Who’s the lady? Maybe I can smooth the way for you.”

“I don’t want to tell you her name, in case I don’t get so lucky,” Charlie hedged.

“Oh, come on. Most of the women here love me,” Rob said with a smile.

Charlie sighed. Maybe it was time to tell someone how he felt. “She and I were together for a while. It was great. No, it was more than great: it was smokin’ hot. I’ve never felt that way before. But for no reason, she just stopped calling. She won’t answer my texts or my emails. It’s been six weeks, and I know I should just get the hint and move on, but I can’t get her out of my mind. I…er…heard she was going to be here, and so I came.”

“Maybe she found someone else.”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I doubt it, though. What we had was unique. Earth-shattering.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” Rob said as he finished off his cigarette, grinding the butt on the concrete of the veranda. “All I can say is hold on to that feeling. My wife and I lost almost all interest in each other for a while and then out of the blue that feeling came back with a vengeance. Now she’s pregnant and I don’t know she feels for me from day to day. All I know is that if I don’t quit smoking before the baby comes, she might kick me out of the house.”

Charlie smiled and shook his head as he took a final drag off his own cigarette.

“You sure you don’t want to tell me her name? I am married to the hostess, after all.”

Charlie stopped breathing. “You’re Rob…Holmes?”

“I figured you knew I was that Rob.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s just…” Charlie fumbled around for words as he pointed to Rob’s mask. I’m in love with your wife.

“Huh,” Rob said as he removed his mask. “I didn’t realize how difficult it was to recognize someone without seeing the top half of their face.”

“Rob? Where are you?” Rhonda’s voice came from the hallway.

Charlie turned around quickly and started putting on his own mask.

“What the hell are you doing?” Rob sounded mildly amused.

He turned back around to face Rob, his mask secure on his face once again. “Do me one favor, man. Don’t tell her I’m here. She’s…kind of close to this girl, and I don’t want her to interfere.”

Rob looked at him quizzically, but then smiled. “No problem. I told you I owed you.” They shook hands, and Rob went back into the house as Charlie slipped into the shadows.

This week’s Indie Ink Writing Challenge comes from xtinabosco, who gave me this prompt:

A masked man

I decided to use it to continue the story of Rhonda, Charlie, and Rob, since I got so much positive feedback. Let me know if you want me to continue the story, or if you’ve had enough of the drama…

You can read Jamelah’s response to my prompt here by the end of the week.