HIPPO BRIGADE

Donkeys Made of Marshmallows

I just went to the beauty supply store yesterday to buy shampoo and conditioner for myself. Buy the way, being a cosmetologist means you get the stuff WHOLESALE!! WHOO HOO. So, in my mind, buying shampoo that ordinarily costs $30, but I get it for $20, feels like a bargain. Which is absurd, because 20 dollars for shampoo is expensive, and it’s not even a ginormous size–but again, it’s totally justified because it’s a discount.

So, last night I headed off to school to learn about facial manipulations and tapoment, and as intrigued as I was to learn the correct way to pop a zit, all I could think about was going home and washing my hair with my new shampoo and conditioner. Does that make me a massive loser? Who does that? Who daydreams about washing their hair? AND THEN BLOGS ABOUT IT?? me, that’s who…

My enthusiasm was overwhelming when I walked in the door last night, that I dropped my bag immediately, and headed straight to my shower. I washed my hair twice, just because I wanted to, and while my conditioner was working, I read the label on the bottle, I even read the French and Italian directions–just to be thorough. I was so happy. I spent the rest of the evening smelling my wet hair, and whipping it around so that my husband could get a whiff and a face full of slimy slaps of hair–needless to say, he enjoyed that…

I slept with my wet hair and all night I was reminded of my sweet shampoo and conditioner. The smell was heavenly, and I dreamt of sugar falling from the sky and I was floating on a raft made of berries and coconut shells, and donkeys were waving at me from the shore– donkeys made of marshmallows.