Thoughts on All Natural Hair Color

I’ve been doing a lot of reading of actual books since my Lenten blog fast.  One of the books I have (re)read is Toxic Overload.  This re-read was spurred on by an article on hair dyes and bladder cancer I recently came across.  I can’t find a link to the study online, but here is a good synopsis from the USC website. (USC’s Keck School of Medicine participated in the research.)  Here are the thoughts from The American Cancer Society on the same study.

The study is old (2001) and I haven’t searched for opposing or more recent thoughts on it because (1) those often come from industry groups who benefit from more lenient interpretations of outcomes (2) I still remember the class I took in law school on expert witnesses and how you can manipulate statistics to say anything, and (3) I am not interested in swaying anyone from one side to the other.  What interests me in terms of health and spirit will not be the same as what interests the next person and the lengths I will go to remove toxins from our home environment are not the same as the next person.  In other words, to each is own.  I believe we are all adults capable of making up our minds on what is good for us and our families.

More  importantly, how incredibly cute is that product shot?  I can already picture myself dispensing that powder and mixing it up, all the while feeling very scientific while doing so.  I spent waaaaaay too much time on the Morrocco Method website last night and decided that I need one of everything.  For starters, I really want to try their all natural hair color made from henna.  Unfortunately, I am one of those people who colors her hair every month thanks to a head full of premature gray.  Full, as in most of the front of my head is white is left uncolored.  I’m interested in trying something more natural, and this just might be the ticket.  I asked my stylist if she would be willing to apply it for me, but she wasn’t buying what I was selling.  I understand, of course, but I am a wee bit nervous about doing it myself.

Have any of you tried coloring your hair with this or other all natural products?  How did it go?  I’m going to call the company for more information on how to apply it.  Does it stain?  Can it touch the scalp or face?  There is an image of me with a solid black scalp and a polka-dotted face that I can’t seem to shake.

The Season of Conversion

Today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of the Lenten season.  I’m going to give up reading blogs for forty days.  It will be like fasting, only without the weight loss and stinky breath.

For an avid reader short on time, blogs can be the most beautiful siren song.  At any given moment, you can read touching and funny and cute and pretty all from the comfort of your home or car or desk at work.  Inspiration is at your fingertips anytime, anywhere, at a price anyone who can get to a library can afford.

In the three years since I clicked a link and landed on the very first blog I ever loved enough to keep reading, I have been inspired to sew, knit, craft, and cook.  I haven’t done very much of that because those who sew, knit, craft, and cook will often link to other people who, in turn, inspire me to photograph, write, and decorate after I mother from the heart, refashion my wardrobe, and organize the cans in my pantry according to color and size.

The links!  My God, the links.  Well the links that keep linking and the clicks that keep clicking and the clock that keeps ticking never will stop for a mom with a husband, two boys, two dogs, and a house.  I’m positive; I checked.  (At least two times.)

Poof.  Three hours.  Gone.  Every time.

Occasionally I will glitter a dinosaur.  More often, I don’t.  There isn’t enough time to emasculate ferocious beasts, not when you can read about vintage corningware or Charlie Sheen and his wily ways.  And, on the off chance someone hasn’t thrifted an Eames shell rocker for $3 in North Hollywood or knit mufflers for the street lamps in their town or announced they are a near-sighted recovering kleptomaniac with synysthesia, I sit back in my chair and think, well now what do I do?  Surely I can’t sew, knit, craft, or cook.  Or photograph, write, or decorate.  Mothering, fashioning, and organizing (definitely organizing) are also out of the question.  There are far too many people who do it all better than I ever could.  And even if they don’t, they actually get up and do it.

That is why I am giving up blog reading for lent.  As inspiring as blog reading can be in small doses, it can be downright debilitating when I act like it’s my mission to visit every last blog worth reading.  There is just too much great content out there and after a while I start to feel to the left of zero.  Everyone is more creative, more talented, and more skinny.  Also, I think I  just felt another aftershock from Saturday’s 3.9 earthquake.  It made the ice clink in my glass and moved my straw.  Or, maybe my ice is just melting.  Whatever.  My shoulders are bowed under the weight of the tragedy of it all.  Woe is me.

I’m a well fed, well educated, stay at home mom who should worry more about being grateful than being creative.  Pray more than she covets.  Encourage more than she gossips and live more than she reads.  With a few extra hours a day, I just might do that.

At least for the next forty days.

The Crossroads

It pains me to admit it, but the priest at our church sucks like a Hoover.

Or a Dyson

Eureka

Bissell

Electrolux

Miele

Bosch

Kenmore

and

Kirby.

Pick your favorite upright.  The simile still works.

He’s a five and a half foot Dirt Devil in robes, sucking out our will to live with one long, convoluted, meandering sermon.  At least I assume it’s meandering and convoluted.  I have no idea because he isn’t very adept at keeping his mouth inline with the microphone so his voice fades in and out of my ears, much like it would if I were literally, and not just figuratively, slipping in and out of consciousness.

I couldn’t catch much of what he was saying, busy as I was bribing Nicholas to keep quiet with Elyon marshmallows in natural vanilla, but at one point he garbled something about an article he wrote nine years ago detailing the confusion of a recently converted Catholic regarding the validity of her Protestant marriage under the eyes of the Church.  This woman felt it was still blessed by God even though it had been performed under a different faith before her conversion.  Then she decided she no longer believed that because…

I have no idea.  He moved his mouth.

It was like an overly dramatic cliff-hanger from the 80s, only instead of Who Shot J.R.?, I want to know Who Blessed the Marriage? The answer, I’m afraid, will not be forthcoming and will always remain a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.  But all was not lost.  I did hear him say this week celebrates the Call to Serve, and that the Church is actively looking for young men and women eager to answer the call to serve God.  Yes, please.  That would be great, especially if they hear the phone ringing in the Inland Empire.

We’ve tried other churches before with mixed success.  The Mister is not Catholic, and out of respect for him and an interest in trying something new, last year we visited one of the large churches everyone is talking about.  You know the one (because you probably have one, too); it’s the one with stadium seating, power points presentations and

a cafe

and bookstore

and woman’s ministry

men’s ministry

preschool

MOPS

Dave Ramsey University

and, in case you’re not up to sitting with the masses, streaming live video.

I don’t know.  It was okay, but I just can’t get over the 22-piece rock band and light show.  And, forgive me for being rude, but is that a set director I see hovering in the wings?  The message was simple, straightforward, and easy enough to swallow, but at the risk of creating controversy, I feel these fast-food sermons contribute to the dumbifiction of America.  We are talking about the word of God as written by fallible men and women over 3,000 years ago.  It is my most humble opinion that some things require thought and analysis, a little frontal lobe effort on our parts to see if we are going to buy what they’re selling, and I’m not sure a fill-in-the-blank pamphlet (free pencil!) and power-point presentation with flying words in Papyrus and Jester pushes us enough intellectually.

I know many people think this is what makes this new breed of church so grand–finally, a message they can understand the first time around and without having to think too hard!–but, for me, the simplicity of the message (spoon feeding, if you will) is not a selling feature.  An inspiring message is great, and I will take them where I can, simple or complex.  A simple message alone, however, fails to keep my interest.  In law school there were many, many cases I didn’t understand the first or second or third and fourth time around.  I would read the same case over and over again until I understood the opinion of the court and the rule of law that came forth.  If I can do that with a book full of cases on civil procedure, surely I can do the same with a book that postulates we were created in the image of a supreme being.

Which is what leads me to the crossroads at which I currently stand.  On the right I have tradition and symbolism and thousands of years of history lost on a priest who is incapable of communicating the message he has spent years studying.  On the left there is a (seemingly) profitable, exciting, youthful ministry that caters to the youth and makes church enjoyable and entertaining, if not intellectually demanding or fulfilling.

What to do?  That also is a mystery wrapped in a riddle inside an enigma.

Weight Watchers, Day 1

I signed up for Weight Watchers yesterday, did you?  How is your commitment to a healthy 2010 going so far?  I was nervous (understatement) to step on the scale and get my official starting weight, but in the end I was pleasantly surprised.  I am five pounds down from the last time I weighed in at home, which means I have lost 50% of the holiday weight I packed on in November and December.  The math is fuzzy and confusing, but let’s see if I don’t muddy this up too much.

I lost five pounds when I had the flu.  I maintained this weight loss until my appetite returned, which coincided with the avalanche of cookies and treats that hit our home in December.  I snacked my way through the five “flu” pounds and added five more for a total of 10 pounds in holiday weight.

Lame.

Once the holidays were over, so were the cookies.  The stale stragglers that remained went into the trash.  I told myself not to worry about my weight until I started Weight Watchers in January, so I allowed myself to eat what I wanted within reason and on the condition I didn’t eat blindly as I was when the snacks were just laying there on the counter.  I lost five pounds. There is your testament to the hidden calories in junk food snacks.

The five pounds mean something more to me than numbers on the scale.  During one of my meetings over the summer with my nutritionist, she mentioned that normal people will gain and lose the same 5-10 pounds every year because life is irregular.  There are months, like November and December, where the normal person will eat more than usual.  Once their normal life/pace returns, they lose the weight they gained without conscious effort.  For many people, they don’t even notice the weight gain and subsequent loss.  Amazing, since I am normally aware of every filament I put in my mouth and can tell you within micrograms my weight any time of day.

I feel the five pounds were like that, and I couldn’t be more proud of this step in a healthy direction.  I didn’t get too hysterical over the five pounds I gained.  (I’m not counting the five flu pounds since I was bound to regain them once I started eating again.)  I didn’t allow the weight to put me in the dumps, call myself a failure, or give myself a license to say “forget it” and eat until I regained the fifty pounds I lost.  I tried to be aware without obsessing and for the first time in my life I lost five pounds without trying and without contracting a violent viremia.

If all I get out of 2010 is a healthy relationship with food that my sons can model, I will consider the year a success.

Weight Watchers, Part IX

I know.  I can’t believe I am going to do Weight Watchers again, but I am.  It is something I have been debating for a couple of months, and I have reached the conclusion this is something I need to do right now.  My meal plan has been very sloppy lately, and I can’t have that or I will gain back the 50 pounds I have lost.  As it is, I am already up 5-7 pounds in holiday weight.  I’m trying not to panic.  Normal people gain weight during the holidays only to slowly lose it again throughout the year.

Here is my concern.  I don’t think I am “normal people” when it comes to food.  I am too much of a negligent snacker and meal skipper, which is exactly what I have been doing since the holiday rush started.  No breakfast, snack, snack.  No lunch until around 3:00pm when I realize I AM STARVING.  Snack, snack, snack.  Light dinner because, hello, I’m full from snacking.  Late night rolls around, hungry again.  Or tired.  Or stressed.  Or any other sort of emotion that for me is tied to snacking.  For example, Mikey has been sick since last night.  First with vomiting, now with a fever.  I am a nervous wreck, sad that he feels so poorly.  I wrote my elephant post today to take my mind off things, but it didn’t work.  Tonight I ate a small bowl of popcorn after dinner.

NOT GOOD.

On Monday I decided to cut out the snacking.  The number of times I caught myself reaching for a mindless thing (cracker, cookie, chocolate, etc.) was disgusting!  With the boys, I am in and out of the kitchen all day long.  Juice, water, breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks…and all the while the counters are laden with holiday food I shouldn’t be considering, let alone mindlessly eating.  Notice I didn’t write mindlessly enjoying.  The truth of the matter is that most of what I have been eating just didn’t taste all that great.

Eating something that doesn’t taste good isn’t normal.  Actually, I take that back.  I think for many of us it is becoming the new normal.  What I should say is that eating something that doesn’t taste good will not be my normal.

I don’t expect Weight Watchers to help me with this aspect of my diet, but I do expect to work the food plan to my advantage.  I intend to regain a rational relationship with food using a structured meal plan and the regular meetings where there will be (please, God!) positive and supportive individuals on a similar journey.  Of course, I will continue working with Jorjana, as she has been instrumental in helping me lose the weight I have thus far.

I don’t consider this a resolution for the new year because, like taking a shower or brushing my teeth, losing the holiday weight along with the rest of the weight I have to lose is something that will happen, not something I hope to achieve if I really, really, really try.  I did not lose 50 pounds only to gain it all back.  If my mom is not a lamp, I am not a yo-yo.

Whew.  Glad I got that off my chest.

In other news, after two years of hearing people rave about this book, I caved and bought Nourishing Traditions by Sally Fallon.  Have you read it?  I will let you know what I think once I am done.