My First, Possibly My Last DIY Hair Mask

OK.

2 table spoons of extra virgin olive oil……………………..check.
Half a cup of honey………………………..check
2 Avocados…………………………check check (fingering little hard fruit for courage)
1 Egg yolk………………………………………….check.

Okokok. Here goes. My first ever DIY Hair Mask For Added Body.

After finding so many blogs and youtube videos about makeup, hair color and bla de bla I am about to try putting this noxious concoction on my head (though this particular recipe was from a magazine). At age 34-and-an-almost-half, I’m nearly a decade older than the big eyed, bouncey haired beauties who experiment and endorse, but rather than get bummed about arriving to the party spectacularly late, why not embrace that I showed up at all?

I haven’t had long hair in… really almost a decade. Was too busy chopping it all off like clockwork every 6 weeks when I worked. Lunchtime Tony and Guy and a berry. Sometimes I didn’t even look up til the guy said he was done. I always told him I liked it. What wasn’t to like? Who cared? That attitude allowed me to also walk into some local salons and experience stylists with names like “Wind” wielding sharp instruments near my head. (Ok maybe not such a good idea, reading that back to myself)

Once, the woman in the chair next to miine called her boyfriend/ husband. She’d wanted “1 1/2 inches” taken off, but concluded the stylist had taken off “4 inches”.  (In my esteemed opinion it was neither.) When she started crying, I remember the tender, most sympathetic look on her partner’s face as he put a comforting hand on her knee. Then they asked to see the manager.

SO NOT MEEEEEE! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA

Not even when I had long hair – it lived perpetually in a bun on weekdays, retiring to a scrunchied ponytail at weekends. When I first moved to Singapore (aged 17 and still with hair), Catholic Junior College (Go CJ!) Hostel famously outlawed hair dryers (and had no hot water) because with the old wiring you could trip the entire building. So while fellow CJ-ians might be putting mayo on their hair and taking hour long baths with a leisurely shave (true stories both), I… didn’t. Maybe that was how I started not caring very much, it just wasn’t very easy to do those things in the hostel.

Anyway.

Dump everything in a bowl. How long is this going to take? That’s not the same glass of wine as the earlier picture btw… I’ve already hit my two-drink limit (because I read more than 2 drinks especially if you are female really messes with your liver) and the stuff is nowhere near my head.

Ok let’s change that. <dump the first spoonful on my crown>

OMG IT STINKS.

Must be the raw egg. How come no one says anything in the recipe about the smell? Chunks of oily, egg-y avocado start sliding down my head. I fish avocado chunks out of the sink and off the counter, conscious of the raw egg and worrying about bacteria on surfaces Rockstar picks food off of. Should I have used pasteurized eggs? I know Landmark 360’s got ‘em. Ironically, they’re Malaysian produce that I just find sick for spending so much on at Hong Kong’s biggest organic upscale grocery store (being also Malaysian, I mean).

Rockstar finishes his slice of thin n crispy Pizza Hut Hawaiian Supreme with the extra pineapple (he doesn’t usually like meat but he’ll eat the ham on the pizza), hops off the sofa and peers in – only to go HAR HAR HAR while pointing at his mother’s head.

Sigh. I can be almost too stupid to live. Take out blender like I should probably have done in the first place.

<Blend Blend Blend Blend>

Rockstar appears again at the doorway. “Too LOUD! Don’t like the sound!”

“Now you know how mummy feels when you’re noisy and she’s on her laptop.”

“Stop it. I can’t think.”

“You sound just like mummy.”

<Blend Blend Blend Blend smugly>

Exit Rockstar – huffily pulling the kitchen door firmly shut behind him.

Spread – scratch that – dump stuff on hair. Miss parts of my head. Don’t care. The only reason I haven’t given up already is because I would waste olive oil, egg, honey and two avocados. There are people starving in Africa and I don’t even want to put this on my head?

Shampoo off one hour later, the absolute minimum I was supposed to leave it on for. I have a sensitive nose. The smell makes me almost gag. How did my mum swallow 6 eggs a day when she was preggers with me? And they most definitely were not pasteurized former kampong eggs bought at organic grocery store strategically located right in the heart of Central where working mums can make themselves feel better about leaving their kids at home by popping down on their lunch hour and buying expensive organic produce to bring home after work (you can tell I had some experience with this).

Rockstar watches, mildly amused. Then he wanders off again in search of a piece of fruit.

Even after shampooing and conditioning as usual, I catch a faint whiff. (But no one else can). Proceed to blow dry.

What do you think, could I tell the difference?
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<Gasp>

Ok sorry, so obviously fake with the gold gown…

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Yes. I have big hair. Just not in a good way. Looks like I’m wearing a Halloween wig. Or like I live in an 80s soap. Crap. Smooth it down with my hands and a wee bit of mustella (I have no hair stuff and I regularly smooth flyaways with whatever I’m using to moisturize my very dry hands) before digging into pizza. It’s now 9.15pm and I’m starving.

Devour 3 large slices. In my defense Rockstar had the pineapple and JD the ham out of my third slice. Both are demanding some love because mummy has been unavailable with crap on her hair for the last 2 hours.

Next morning….

Either I’m on a good hair day, or that crazy gross mask works.

Which just sucks because now I might have to do it again.