Remember that Husband is awesome? And that he makes my site real pretty-like? He just gave me this new plug-in to reduce Russian pornographers’ spam comments, and now somehow I can’t find my drafts.
There were some drafts.
But, alas, now I’m flying from the hip.
But I wanted to tell you this story. I’ve been reading and trying out some healthy-foodie things over the past few weeks (and it’s excellent, thank you) and one of the things I read about was Coconut Oil.
Side note: Husband was in advertising for years. I know what advertising is. I do. It’s all about holding up the ideal whatever and saying, This is for you. Buy it. But when certain people say it, I can’t see through the glamour. I just go ahead and believe it. Yes, I say. True. You are right. This is for me. I must buy it. I am, in other words, a sucker.
So Coconut Oil. It will give me the skin and hair of the gorgeous brown Islanders. It will turn my life around, inside and out, but mostly it’s that Polynesian skin and hair I crave. That thick, wavy, flowing blackish-brown hair. That lustrous, glowing brown skin. That’s what I want. So the coconut oil is the answer. Obviously.
(Okay, I’m not asking much here, but if you could just take one second to look at my photo in the header bar of my blog. Yes. That one. The one at the top of the page. The photo where I’m standing in the full sun, and you can see right through my thin, blond hair. Also, you can see most of the way through my skin. Translucent skin. Like Wilbur’s ears in Charlotte’s Web.)
So I bought the Coconut Oil and followed the directions. It said that if I wanted the perfect hair, I just needed to melt up the oil, rub a bit on my head, wait an hour and rinse it out. No problem. I did it. Just like that. Here’s the part where I made a mistake. “Rinse it out.” Remember that part? Operative word: Rinse. As in, not shampoo. Holy oil slick, Batman. Truly awesome. Truly. Forget napping, I’d ruin the linens. Napping? Heck, forget getting dressed. On the plus side, my hair did look closer to brown. Not Islander brown, more like rodent brown, but it must have been a step in the right direction.
As a result, I’ve decided to forgo following any more directions.
I’ll let you know how that goes.
And in my quest to look like a gorgeous Islander woman, I’ll work on smiling with my whole face, wearing bright-colored clothing, offering food to everyone who enters my house, and giving lots of hugs.
I’ll let you know how that works out, too.