Ocean City: The Part II

If all else fails, smother the life out of your hair

I didn’t want to dampen Thursday’s mood by adding this to the discussion, but you’re going to find out sooner or later anyway: I had hair problems last weekend.

And on that note, I have a question for Mother Nature.  Aside from the Great Coconut Oil Debacle of 2012 (which, thanks to all that is holy, happened on a Friday so I had 2 full days to sit in the bathroom), why do you always insist on greasing up my hair at the most inopportune times?  For example:

  1. When I’m already rushed to get out the door in the morning
  2. When I have the perfect outfit planned for a Saturday night
  3. When I’m at the beach and didn’t bring my emergency Herbal Essences

And there I was – standing in a hotel bathroom, staring at myself in an unfamiliar mirror – when the moment of realization hit me.  I was hours from home, trapped with Mother Nature and nothing to get her grease out of my hair.

My best guess as to how the grease got there in the first place?  Conditioner.  Not mine (hah!) – conventional conditioner.  Last Thursday night – literally minutes after posting my celebratory sham-wow bit – I realized while washing my hair that my bottle of homemade conditioner was empty.  In a moment of scandalizing audacity, I used a small bit of traditional conditioner instead.  Obviously, yes, I was cheating.  They say Karma comes back to bite you in the end, and she certainly had a field day on this one.

Friday morning I woke up to a lackluster tinge on my head.  And it was all downhill from there.  That lackluster tinge – not to mention the oils – just worsened throughout the day.  Thank goodness for half-day Fridays – I was out of the office and had my head under a faucet before 2pm.  One wash and one dry gave me limp, greasy hair that felt heavy with product.

I’ve learned before that my hair does not like overstimulation, so I resisted the urge to wash it Friday night and Saturday morning.  I wrassled it back into braids and let it brood all day at the beach on Saturday without protest.

Even my best efforts at civility were in vain.  Come Saturday night, there I was – standing in a hotel bathroom, staring at myself in an unfamiliar mirror, and the grease was undeniable.  Luckily, I have three hair-conscious cousins who happened to have in their possession just the right chemicals to pull MNM out of her latest hair fix.  So what did I do?  I did what any normal person would do: I cheated again; this time with shampoo.  Clean hair is never so depressing as when you have to go against your morals to get it.

Since last weekend, I am happy to report that I have used no more chemicals and had no more grease issues.  Now I’m going to go knock on wood, or else Karma’s going to come back and bite me.

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