New Position Open, Temp to Hire!

I spent a few hours last night, as well as the better part of my Sunday, dreadlocking my housemate's hair. He had very long silky hair--the sort of hair women go insane with jealousy over (we'll get to that later)--that reached down to his waist. It is naturaly dark (brown-almost-black) with a bit of curl towards the end. I was constantly amazed that it grew that long and looked good. My issue with his long hair, though, was that once hair gets long (and I mean real long) you can't really play with it the same; when you do, you could lose your whole hand or even arm in the midst of it. Okay well maybe not an arm, but really, you just can't manipulate really long hair. Besides, he generally kept it in a ponytail anyway. So yes, his hair is now thoroughly waxed, teased, twisted, and dreadlocked. For dreadlocks they look rather good, certainly not hippy dreadlocks which, if you live around hippies, you know are ratty and nasty. No, these are solid, well-rounded dreadlocks that shall grow into a successful life and career of being sported on the head of a rock star. Least, that's my housemate's plan. Either way, I think he still owes me a shoulder rub for all that work, which takes a surprising amount of arm and upper body strength to do well. Actually I don't know if that's true because I never dreadlocked hair before. But hey, par usual it turned out quite good so we're all happy.

I mention that women loved his hair and indeed, that was true. Look at it this way: if you ever overhear a woman complimenting another woman on how gorgeous her hair is (when it's au naturale) the know that woman has damn good hair--it takes a lot for a woman to admit someone has the upper-hand in the hair department. And women handing out compliments like that to other women is a rarity indeed; not so with men's hair. Women love pretty man hair. Look at Fabio, for example (now look away because, well, ew). When I first met my housemate ages ago, his hair was short and spiked, and he never really cut it since. My favourite stage of growth was when it was hitting just around his jawline and the nape of his neck--a take on that oh so populah modified Farrah-hair for skater boys. Now that hair was yummy, just long enough to wrap easily around your fingers yet short enough to eventually let go. Oh yes, I even caught a few girls attempting to play with his hair in our early days of highschool dating. But I don't blame them; women really just can't resist pretty hair (If only that meant we all turned lesbian for eachother! That'd be a blast). So yes, I have officially lost my neutral source for playing with pretty man hair. Now I just need to find a new boy with (preferably) shoulder-length natural black hair for me to fondle--the hair, not the boy! Okay well maybe the boy too...

Oh and I borrowed a bunch of music from my mom just because I know she has an established classical collection. (It is hard to peer-share classical music unless you know what you want.) She favors Mozart and therefore has a lot of Mozart cds, but I think that dude's everywhere and prefer a mix anyway. So this shall be interesting. Plus, I borrowed Chant with the Benedictine Monks of Santo Domingo de Silos (whew!). She said it was boring, I said I've been in a chant-y mood (whetever that means). So I'm gonna go get my chant on, do some design work, and wish the weather would clear up before I walk to work. :P