Now that the rest of my work week looks far less hectic than it has been (a double curse-you to elections and politicians), I suppose it's time to sit down and do some house cleaning, blog style.
Item #1: No 'Poo
I did, indeed, succeed in going a whole month without using commercial shampoo. I will admit that my resolve has waned slightly, especially in the face of 4:30am wake-up time, but all in all I proclaim it a success. My hair was... different. It was drier, but on the whole healthier, if you can grasp that. By far, Hubby and I agree that it is thicker, which is fairly mind boggling considering my hair was already thick enough to suffocate me on a regular basis. Although I'm now only sporadically using commercial shampoo and homemade shampoo (depending on mood, time and inclination) one benefit I feel that it has had on my grooming habits is the act of washing my hair less than I used to. My head is itchy, which is normal with or without 'Poo, and dandruff abounds, but towards the end of homemade only shampoo it was far, far less than it has been.
One surprising account, which I feel I should impart as a warning if nothing else, came at around day 18 or 20 of using natural shampoo. I was running late, I'd worked out the night before, and desperately needed to wash my hair. Alas, I had not mixed up my shampoo! "Fuck it", I said to my self. "Self, you can cheat this one day. Your coworkers will thank you for not stinking up the office." I grabbed whatever was in the shower and used that.
Soon as the lather hit my head, it burned. Like itchy scalp omggetitoff kind of burn. My poor head, having reasserted the natural oils and routine of hair, utterly rejected having all those oils striped off by commerical products.
"Self", I said later, sitting in my office, absent-mindedly itchy my head. "If nothing else, that was a beautiful demonstration that all the crap in these commercial products cannot be good for your skin. Also, ow."
Item #2: Dog (aka, Max)
I had mentioned at some point that we acquired a new dog following the death of Mandy (best, dog, ever). It remains to be seen whether Max will fill the tiny paw shaped shoes that Mandy left, and while it's doubtful that any animal will exhibit the amazing combination of intelligence and compassion that that girl did, Max is proving to fit in very well in our household of fuzzies. All 70+lbs of him. (Rottie-Lab... so much for my desire for a small dog).
Sunny (my dog) tolerates him. He's almost twice her weight, so their playtime tends to be dictated by her schedule and inclination. For some reason unknown to us, he's slightly obsessed with our cat Pi, and attempts to play with her constantly -- which usually ends in tears and a pissed off cat, considering she's all of 8lbs to his 70lbs. Fatty returns his obsession with Pi into an obsession with cleaning his big floppy ears. We have never understood what goes on in Fatty's brain damaged skull, and it's probably safer that way.
On the whole, Max is excellent. He has this joie de vivre that comes from a unique combination of being a rescue dog without a particularly traumatizing past. Mandy and Sunny both had less than ideal beginnings, and no matter how happy they are (were), scars from their past still show through, and probably always will. We aren't sure of Max's past, but from his health and vet records it seems his previous family cared for him greatly. And it shows in his behaviour, which is a combination of excited 4 year old on a sugar high coupled with giant suck-ball in need of constant comfort.
On the whole, I approve.
Item #3: Post Lunch Sleepy
It's post lunch, which means all my brain can think of is sleep time. The day is almost over, and I can't remember what my item #3 was originally...
Wait! I remember!
Item #3.something: Kickboxing
I had mentioned a while ago my intent to begin kickboxing, and I can't remember if I had ever delivered a follow up. I truly enjoy it. And by it, I mean the dojo at which I train. It's become very apparent to me that I am not someone who enjoyed exercise for the sake of exercise. In fact, I loathe it. But the dojo I attend (K2 Martial Arts) is fantastic, and the most effervescent and supportive group of people I have ever met.
Unfortunately, my bank account is crying in pain, and my laziness is threatening to reassert. As much as I enjoy going, the location and timing are less than ideal which means that I only wind up dragging my arse in there once a week (between work, dogs, yoga, evening work, and picking up hubby from his work... my free time to indulge kicking pads as hard as I can tends to be limited). So, new plan.
There's a gym opening up very, very close to my house, and it's my thought that if I join, it's 24hours and close enough to remove any excuse. However this means I have to call and cancel my kickboxing... which I haven't done because, well, I love the people so much I feel like I'm letting them and me down by quitting.
So here's hoping I grow a pair and finally cancel my membership... else my cowardice is going to cost me an arm and a leg.
