Well, lovebugs, another Monday is upon us and as I told The Mister this morning before I came to work, "Another day another dollah." Since we are all bff's around these parts, I don't keep secrets from you. Basically, every Monday should be known as glutenintolerancemiserable days around this blog. Every Monday, you can bet that I spent at least an hour curled in a ball nearly crying because my stomach pain is excruciating. I don't hold back on the weekends and like to eat whatever I want, and it all includes gluten. This results in me being in an intolerable amount of pain for the majority of the day on Monday. Not that you needed to know, but now you know and knowing is half the battle... At least that is what G.I. Joe used to tell me.
Wearing: Blazer: Carolina Herrera. Jeans: F21. Heels: Guess. Top: Urban Outfitters. Jewelry: Michael Kors, Marc Jacobs, and I have no idea what else.
I did a fun little experiment this weekend. I have been trying to be paraben free in my makeup and hair products for about a year now. I completely switched my hair product to Lush and absolutely adore the shampoos, conditioners and other goop to put on my coif. Let me tell you, those people can sell a ketchup popcicle to a lady in white gloves. Your girl was in the store about 4 months ago and the magician that works there totally talked me into moving from permanent hair color to tying henna.
Said henna has been under my sink since I bought it and since my gray hair is popping up all over the place, I thought I would finally give the million dollar block of hippy, a whirl. Here is how it went:
- Unsuccessfully try to break henna with hands. Doesn't work. Find a hammer and get to whacking. Ziggy is now hiding under the kitchen table.
- Boil water and pour over greenblack henna chips. Mix until it looks like baby poo/mud
- Rub into hair. My hair basically got about 8 feet tall from putting all of this dirt in my hair.
-Wrap in Saran wrap and let process for 3 HOURS!!!!!!!!!!!! Actually, my amazing roommate saved me from walking around with saran wrap on my head and handed me a metallic conditioning cap to sit in for the half of my life that it was going to take for the hippy crystals to turn my hair a luscious black. I sat in my room looking like Martian Marge.
-Rinsed the dirt out of my head...looked like I wrestled an alligator in my tub.
- Dryed my hair to check the color. Not only was all my gray still there, but now my hair is a notsolovelyred. I hate when my hair turns red...it's the bane of my existence.
The lesson I learned? Toxins exist for a reason and it is so that I will never gray and be able to cheat old age. I am heading back to the MAC counter and also finding my nearest Redken specialist.