I put what in my hair?

How often have you looked at the back of your shampoo bottles? Okay, how often have you looked at the ingredients on the back of your shampoo bottles?

So it happened that I peered curiously at the ingredients on the back of the shampoo bottle. It started out simple enough with the word WATER, but began to get a little scary when I read AMMONIUM XYLENESULFONATE. As I proceeded, I stumbled upon METHLCHLOROISOTHIAZOLINONE, and METHYLISOTHIAZOLINONE. The heat rose in my face, and I re-read the words. There was no doubt about them.

Anxiously, I scanned the conditioner. The same two fearsome ingredients harboured there, too! There was also a STEARAMIDOPROPYL DIMETHYLAMINE.

Now tell me, why would anyone even consider putting these unknown chemicals in their hair? I was able to locate two of them on Wikipedia, and even then, one of them was very secretive, saying only that it was something sometimes found in some conditioners . . . !

So, what do you put in your hair?



[this post will take residence here as the most recent post until after Friday; this does not mean, however that I will cease posting to any extent - unless I find myself too busy to do so. :) ]

Friday, April 17, 7:30 pm
Victorious Life Christian Church
Please join us as the Forever Faithful Youthgroup [FFY] presents this musical drama in commemoration of the 10th anniversary of the Columbine Tragedy."
"...Free admission..."

If anyone knows more about the play and happens to see this post, I would greatly appreciate it if they would edit/expound upon it in the comment section if need be. Thank you!

From the Scrap-pile

"If one thinks they are the ideal 'grown-up' after they think a particularly deep thought, and then remembers that a true 'grown-up' will never consider themselves 'grown-up,' as the more that 'grown-up' learns, the more they discover they have yet to learn, does the very fact that they have know this truth make them a 'grown-up'?" [~ from Thoughts That Get You Thinking; author unknown (by some, that is. Clearly, the author is known by someone: the author. For, can an author write a book without knowing it at least at one time?)]


Facebook: a decline in beauty

Facebook is a social network fad that nearly everyone is familiar with. It is useful to connect with long-lost friends, and to learn more about those friends. If this were the only feature of Facebook, it would all be very well, but it isn't. The serious drawback is stated in the title of this post: a decline in beauty.

I first came to realise this as I examine my change in thought. As I have noted in earlier posts (or at least, I think I have), one of the best times to think is while washing dishes. In the past I would use this thinking time for more extensive things worthwhile, such as a comparison of too unlike objects (math and lemons, or cheese and turtles, for example). More recently, however, my thought patterns have been "status-message-tized." Literally. And once I realized this, my brain stuck my thought into a status-message form: "Ahh! I'm thinking in status messages!"

Of course, having identified this problem, I had to figure out whether it really was a problem. After all, could not this sort of thinking style eliminate useless chatter?
But, my brain cried, what happens to all the lengthy articles written over time?
What of them? I respond. Most people hardly read those things anyways.
For the sake of beauty were they written! My brain replied.

For the sake of beauty? What was that supposed to mean? Oh, surely there are books like Pilgrim's Progress and the like that are beautiful due to their many allegories and metaphors.
Those would be kind of hard to compact into status messages, would they not? And what of the Psalms even? What of Job and Isaiah in the Bible? What of hymns and poetry? What of Homer and Milton? What of Shakespeare? On and on the list goes.

The decline in love of the fullness of writing (also known as reading) is becoming inevitable. But now I am wondering, does this have anything to do with Facebook? I sat down with that goal in mind, but my argument has slowly evolved into an encouragement to read. I suppose one might call this post "free writing," for I have simply been following the chain of thoughts flowing through my head, and they have brought me here.

It would be bad form to end this post, or any other post for that matter, in this way: half-finished and unresolved, but it will have to do for now. I have yet to straighten out my thoughts and come to a conclusion, but I hope that conclusion will come soon.... maybe while I'm washing the dishes later.


A Post

I pull up my blog and notice that it is in a sad state. It has been neglected since the 21st of last month. I heave a sigh and press the "new post" button that glares at me through the dust (okay, so maybe it wasn't dust-covered, but it would have been if it wasn't protected by the glass shield of the monitor screen).

I hastily scan the format, hoping I remember how to correctly write a post. I push against my forehead twice, but my memory isn't any sharper. It dawns on me that the forehead-thing came from a story I wrote - ages ago. Too bad it wouldn't be of any benefit to me. I swallow my jealousy of Jeremy, and shake my head to clear my thoughts.

Focus. I begin to see a light shine through the hazy fog, and my blogging skill returns in a flash. Hurrah! my brain cries with joy. At last I am ready to begin writing. I pose my hands over the keys with new, returned vigor, and straighten my shoulders triumphantly. Ready.

Almost. The set determination in my face contrasts with the jumble of my thoughts. What was it I was going to write about? The weather? Schoolwork? How many dishes I washed and dirty diapers I'd changed? None of it fit.

And suddenly I knew what to do.

And this was my decision: for all you readers who managed to suffer through this lengthy post with no point what-so-ever, I am letting YOU choose the topic. Post your idea in a comment below, and I'll see which one (if I get any) is the most interesting and random. That topic wins. And my blog will cease to be postless for a time.