All Natural

I love my hair. It is a mane of beauty. Horses would be jealous of this hair. I can’t explain to you enough how much I love my hair. What I lack in a figure, I make up for luscious locks. It’s like an herbal essence commercial all the time. Not the old orgasm ones though. I don’t do that. I’m not crazy.

I also like to think that I keep up pretty well in the hygiene department. I have all kinds of good smelling things and essential oils. You name it. I bring this up because recently my hair and myself encountered something that completely ruined any security I ever had with my hair being clean. What was it?

All natural paint.

Ever seen what’s in all natural paint? Well neither have I, until it got thrown in my hair and all across my body. Now don’t be like, “well where the hell were you that you got paint thrown on you, that’s just stupid.”

Well guess what; stop asking questions, it’s my blog.

If you must know, I was at a paint war. Where you and a group of friends get paint and proceed to throw it at each other for a raucous good time. I, being that naïve thing I am, pictured something like this:

Instead, I got something like this:

There are a few reasons I would make a face like that.

First of all, I was under the impression that the day would be nice. No, I shouldn’t have been. And the reason is that I live in Sault Ste. Marie; where the weather has never been pleasant. Ever. In fact, as I type this, I can hear the potentially Gael force winds blowing my lecture room around. We have no windows so I’m going to ahead and assume I’ll be arriving in OZ any time now. I hope I don’t land on a witch. I don’t have the time for a lawsuit.

The day we went was pissing rain. Not a drizzle. A full on rain. But we thought, oh okay cool, well it’ll rain and we can have the paint wash off. Guess what! As soon as we started fighting, the rain stopped. Coincidence? No. The weather hates my guts.

Second of all, we start playing. Fun times! Everyone is having a blast. “Hehehehe, this is so fun guys!” We all yell. Jolly good times.

And then it hits me…

The paint: right in my face, my eyes, my hair, my nose, my mouth, and my ears. As it oozed down my face and explored every orifice it could reach into, I discovered what was in it.

Salt. So much salt. You remember when you would want play doh and your mom would bitch at you and say how she could make you it and it was just as good and blah blah blah but it totally wasn’t and always turned out an ugly colour and dried fast?  It was the same recipe.

Flour, salt, water, food colouring, but just more water than anything else. It was horrible. It burned, and stung and tasted awful and my one eye wouldn’t open for a good few seconds.

I stumbled around the place half-blindly looking for a sweater or something to wipe my eye out. Thankfully I found one and proceeded to have a darn good time. Ever so slowly though, everyone started to realize the true horror of this “paint”. They all got it in their eyes and mouths and noses and half an hour in we wanted to leave.

We were drenched in this foul tasting gunky, slippery mess that we called paint, trekking through mud and the rain to get back to our cars. Our faces itchy, dry and burning, our hair starting to dry up all we wanted was a shower. It wasn’t until we got back and started to shower that we realized the truth behind the all-natural paint…