My shadow stands in the echo,
of another man’s shadow.
I don’t fear that darkness,
his secrets, your lies,
It just stirs a
cruel hunger,
for fire.
Shivers,
Don’t feed me,
Nor compassion.
The fragment is lost,
In a wave of sadness,
from some other man’s peril,
But the echo rings around me.
And if you or he can worked out
what this is all about,
I’ll be waiting
right here.
As those pesky roots are showing, and my vivid initial colour has washed out, I felt it was time to try a new hair dye. I thought I’d have a go at using a non permanent one in between ritual bleachings, to help with condition, as suggested by my hairdresser.
I opted for a brand that is apparently peculiar to Superdrug: knight and Wilson. There are very few reviews about these dyes, so I was a bit skeptical. I did a few hours of skin test ( then scratched it off by mistake) had limited itching (the ingredients list looks pretty innocuous) and did a trial on the ends of my hair. I was dying over the top of my fading red that had now turned orangey. So here is the test strip…the orangey bits on the right are how the rest of my hair looked.
The deep crimson was gorgeous, so I went ahead to do the whole lot.
I found the dye a little tricky to apply because the colour is so intense that it immediately stains everything in sight! I left it on 25 mins which was no chore as it smells quite pleasant, and did a quick shampoo to remove most of the stain from my scalp! The water never once ran clear, I just stopped when the water came off lighter in colour. I don’t think the water has ever run clear on ANY of my hair dyings.
Here is the result:
Yay!! Sadly there was no effect on my unbleached roots but hey-ho. The dye is incredibly conditioning, leaving my hair positively gleaming
Damn, maybe I missed a bit at the back..
Oh well, there is some left in the tube so I can just top that bit up (if it’s bleached)
I got this dye on offer and am so far quite satisfied with the results, let’s see how long the colour lasts! I might try the pink one next time, or even purple on the ends…hmm…
I’ve been absent. I’d love to say that this time has been spent on some rewarding creative project but, y’know, it hasn’t.
I found myself dreaming last night about performing an upcoming experiment, but the cells got infected and it all went wrong…it’s really a bad sign when you think about your research so much that you are dreaming about bacteria interloping in your experiments…but in all honesty, it could be a premonition! Antibiotics at the ready eh? Oh also dreampt about the giant supermarket that my brain thinks is at the Logan Airport departures lounge. Seriously brain, we’ve been there, there is no such thing, so why do you keep telling me there is?
Not much is going on in the theorising, literary part of my brain (as you can tell from the snoreworthy diarist style of this post) because I’m busy assimilating some of Carl Jung’s theories of psychological imbalances. I’ll report back once I’ve garnered enough info to write about it.
What I have done though is write a precis of my anorexia recovery on a support website so that it will give some hope to those who are questioning whether recovery is really possible. As you know by now, it is! I’ve been clean from the drug of ED for over two years and am now strong enough to start helping others. Of course I tried before but there is only so much a sick person can do to help another sick person…the hypocrisy is unbearable from both sides!
I’m disappointed in myself that I’m not looking a little closer to home and making the effort for family and friends…every week I resolve to contact several people, but as it’s been so long for many, I’m scared of the reaction or lack thereof. I’m reminded as I write this, of the wisdom of one Mr Barker:
“A feeling of anxiety is the sure and certain evidence that you should do this”
Alright then Clive, I’ll bite some bullets.
P.s. The title comes from a Poe song called dolphin
Heather nova is making a new album and I got to hear the first single today from pledge music. The song itself may not be her best but the following lyrics ressonated with me.
“I often am misunderstood,
Make a mess of things,
Where I search for good,
I walk right in when I know I should just walk away”
I find this to be an adorable, musical description of people who are just like me!
On a totally different topic, the lab is getting a bit weird. One member wearing hotpants and another with a 2 inch quiff ( it was measured). I thought it was all meant to be about the science guys..Damn! They’ve raised the bar now.. (roots around looking for a tshirt without holes in)…Meh, hobo nerd chic is in this season, right?!? Oh hey I never told you about this beauty:
It’s a tshirt btw…
Awesome right? Now can you spot the mistake? (bonus points if you have no chemistry background, mega bonus and a live recording of me singing a song of your choice if you can tell me without using a search engine)
“What does it all come down to
I’m losing myself
There’s scissors for voodoo in my mind
I’m doing it my way”~ben Christophers, losing myself
The post title is from Ben Christophers’ the opium willows
The British countryside is awash with spring signs. The lambs bouncing around the fields, the primroses and daffodils sprouting as punctuate golden flares and the great swathes of yellow gorse in flower. I’m sorry gorse, I totally forgot about you for a while there, and so as recompense I will forgive you for being bedecked in such a gaudy hue.
I’m trying my best to maintain a good mood and not let myself wallow at all. Its easter and neither of my parents have any interest in seeing me. One is busy and the other didn’t bother to contact me for months, and I suppose I’m meant to feel guilty that I’m such a dreadful person that they kept putting off contacting me, but I really think this time it is not my fault. Not only that but we are currently visiting SOs family, so I get the joy of being treated as the lowest class of citizen, being both female and young, and not to mention the fact that all three of them think I’m simple. Rather than get swamped in hopeless thoughts of self-doubt and insecurity I’d rather look at the clouds and do some work on the computer, lose myself in reams of data and pathways, lending a pleasant reminder that my career is great and reminding me of a place where I am both appreciated and respected.
I got my boss, the assistant director, to wheel me down a corridor in an office chair…nor no reason other than frivolity. You don’t get that sort of offer every day so I took the throne and giggled like a two-year-old as I flew down the hall 🙂 powered by the boss lady.
Apparently I haven’t done my full quota of housework for a month. So why is it that rather than make up for my erstwhile slack, I am spending time finding books by Carl Jung? Why is the interplay between anima and animus, or the collective unconscious more urgent to me than that tangled Web of purples and inky black fabrics that really should be in the washing basket, or better still, washing machine! Perhaps restructuring my value system by reading the forefathers of modern psychology will help me to be a little more practical in times when that is required?
I have treated myself to a new shiny hair product in the shape of kerastase initialiste. This guy is some concoction of delicious smelling goop that is meant to make your hair stronger and shinier. This will come in handy because frankly I’m sick of finding more of my hair in the plughole or hoover than on my head…so the trial has begun. Watch this space!
“We’re just haunted in our skins
By all that could’ve been
You hide it from your face but it still shows”~ida, so long
pickledsparklymooseduchess 