dread-o-saster

When you find yourself naked in your shower with the tips of your fingers wizened to a painful extend and your feet sticking to the surface of the tub you know something went awfully wrong.

While I was standing there, listening to the sound of water dropping onto my shoulders, it suddenly came to me: I should write a blog about this. And not only about this, but about everything that is going on in that weird mind of mine. So here I am, pressing keyboard buttons with my still hurting finger tips.

It all started some weeks ago when my boyfriend suggested I should get dreads. We ordered a do-it-yourself package from KnottyBoy and met with his sister to work my hair. You start by back-combing the hair until it gets puffy and sticks out and then you rotatingly massage Dread-Wax into the hair. We managed to finish half the head and wanted to continue the day after.

The night wasn't easy - the hair kept sticking to the protective towel and my scalp was still hurting from all the combing and rotating. When I finally got up the next day I started looking up certain things on the internet and I found some customer-reviews for the wax I used. Apparently the hair starts rotting due to the sealing nature of the wax that is plastered over it. Of course I did not want my hair to rot and while cursing myself for not looking this up sooner I started taking out the dreads.

It was not as hard as I expected it to be but still hard enough. And every so often I wanted to scream in agony. The worst part was the wax which did not only make my hair and skin sticky but also all the combs and towels I used. Even my clothes that I wore when we went home the day before were all messed up with wax.

That is how I came to stand naked in the shower with wizened fingers, lathering my hair and janking on it, in pain and with my feet sticking to the bottom of the tub.