Thursday, May 27, 2010

The Henna Experience

The Henna experience. How hard could it be?

I’m a writer, so I keep to-do lists and take notes hoping it will provide fodder for my stories. The older I get the longer my list of things to do gets. So, my friend, a fearless thirty-something said, “I brought you some Henna, it’s easy.”
I waited. I considered and weighed the consequences, because that’s what I do. Henna had gone on my list a long time ago. But in my experience when I jump in with both feet and hit the bottom there’s slime and I hate slime.
After a couple of weeks of dithering a day came and the stars aligned themselves. My husband was gone, it seemed a quiet day, what the heck, life is short, do the things on the list. This time I decided to dive in head first, so to speak.
Following the verbal directions my friend gave me I prepared: one bag of powdered Henna, a cup of cold coffee, olive oil, towels. I began mixing the concoction. How much was I supposed to use? All of the powder, all of the coffee, this is amusing I thought, olive oil to taste.
The dusty lump in my bowl wasn’t going to work, I added left-over tea. Then, I added water. Finally, a consistency that would go into my hair. My hair? Was I nuts? I reminded myself that women have been doing this for centuries. How bad could it be? I took a deep breath and dipped my rubber glove covered hand into the mess and began to apply it to my head.

This was not fun. I now had shredded alfalfa the color of a cow-patty dripping down my forehead and sliding down my neck. Enthusiasm waned but darn-it, I finish what I start. Application complete, I wrapped my skull in a plastic grocery bag and waited. Think about that for a minute. Forty-five minutes my friend said to let it sit, I cleaned up. Oh My God, this stuff is everywhere, my bathroom looks like I’d turned loose a three-year-old with finger paints.
Twenty minutes, I simply can’t do this anymore. I’m embarrassed to answer the phone, and then I have to clean the phone. By now the novelty is gone, I want this over with. I strip off the grocery bag and I now have a helmet of dried cow dung stuck to my head. I briefly consider washing my hair in the sink and start stripping off my clothes instead. The shower looks like a scene from Psycho and my drain is resistant to alfalfa.
A day later, the gray in my hair is now bright orange, a nice contrast to the auburn of what used to be my dark brown locks. My husband is amused, my friends say as little as possible. Will I do this again? Probably not, it’s sorta like the bungee jump off the Kuskulana Bridge but isn’t that what the list is about? I took notes.

Yours in the Henna Experience, DeNise Woodbury.


Tamera Lynn said...

Oh, you had me rolling on the floor on this one! I loved the addition of the pictures. So much for trying anything once, huh?

Morgan O'Reilly said...

I think you've just saved me from a horrible mistake!! Thank you for being brave enough to share.

Lynn Lovegreen said...

Oh my goodness! At least you were brave and went for it. But now I can't wait to see you next week and see what the hair looks like.:-)

Sallie said...

LOL! Poor you!

Cute post! :)

LizeeS said...

This is what I LOVE about you my friend. You not only try things that are amazing but you share them with such panache'. Hey, I like orange. Wish I were there-I'd say something :-)
Thanks for this day brightener.

Tiffinie Helmer said...

Okay, I'm crossing that off my list! Thanks for the laugh. Sorry you had to find out the hard way. That is usually the trek I take, too, unfortantly.