When you’re single, people like to tell you why you’re single.
Oh, guys are just intimidated by you.
Oh, these guys just aren’t good enough for you.
Oh, you sweat like a pig, and your hair’s too greasy.
Then, for a while, you’ll try to clean up your act by doing ridiculous things like being more approachable or wearing deodorant. Until one day you make your own soap and finally realize what you’ve been missing. Soap is everything you’d ever want in the perfect man. It’s clean, it smells good, it’s helpful and useful, and you can buy whichever kind is perfect for you, unless you have a recipe, in which case you can just make one on your own! Which brings me to my next point – my homemade bar soap.
After my challenge ended on October 12, I spent two weeks staring at something sat out on the desk in my room. It was thin and rectangular, and it looked like petrified vomit. It was lumpy and poised just above the wooden surface of my furniture on a metal cooling rack. It was my homemade soap.
In the interest of leveling with you, I must admit that, while I did technically cook up the bar soap before the official end of my challenge, this final product took two weeks to “set” before it could be tested (hence the cooling rack, etc.). Piecing together a few recipes I researched on Countryfarm Lifestyles, I came up with this:
- 2 cups castile soap, grated
- ¼ C water
- ¼ C oatmeal
- 1 tbsp honey
- 1 tea bag, Chamomile
- Heat soap, water in a double boiler, without stirring; fold in oatmeal, honey, tea
After two weeks, you can bet I was pretty excited to try out my final and perhaps most-long-awaited product. However, the initial attempt was rather … startling. It started out dry and ragged. It seemed like all my little herbal additives – the oatmeal, the chamomile – rose to the top of the bar and were the first things to greet my skin when I skimmed it over with the soap. The smooth side was fine, but the jagged side was incredibly jagged. The good news is, after a few washings, the roughness gave way to softness, and it felt more like a regular bar of soap with a nice herby scent.
So where does “scared to death of me” come into the equation? This soap is flaky. A bit of it falls apart every time you touch it, cringing at the very sight of you and crumpling at your touch, leaving tiny crumbs of herb and oat and soap flake in its path. Sounds like terror to me.