to 'poo or not to 'poo, that is the question

Yesterday was outrageously busy for me.
As you know, I started the day early as a cheerleader... Rah! Rah!
Run, Kevin, run!
(smile)
Then I had a brief respite before wending my way downtown for the one SMF event that I really, truly wanted to usher for this year - but could not.
I wanted to be there so much that I bought a ticket.

DakhaBrakha, the Ukrainian group I had so adored two years ago, had composed a score for a classic 1930 film, "Earth", by fellow countryman, Alexander Dovzhenko. The event was at the Lucas, so no dancing this time... nor did the mood warrant such action. A rather somber look at the politics of collectivism versus private ownership. The music performed by the three women and one man was sensitive and energized and foreign and completely in tune with the film - браво !!!

Then, I sped home to wash clothes.
After all, Nami was finally back to her beautiful laundrette!
She and her sister had visited their homeland, South Korea, and one of their brothers who still lives there.
Nami had returned to Savannah alone, as her sister had opted to stay there longer.
Not Nami! She'd had enough idle time during those three weeks!
i thank You, God!

I finished the evening with the penultimate performance of "9 To 5: The Musical"!
Woohoo!
As Collective Face Ensemble's third production for this "Fifth" year, I had looked forward to this humorous battle of the sexes, non-politically correct, time capsule of the 1960's and 1970's. What fun!
I was fortunate enough to be seated beside a grandmother in town for her granddaughter's performance as Maria, one of the office clerks in the show. Talented girl! And I loved her teased-out coif!
Several familiar faces were seeing the show last night, too.
During the intermission, JinHi and Bonnie and I were talking about how often we washed our hair. One said every three days, the other said no more than five days between washes. Then I spoke up.
I'm certain they were shocked.
After all, I still have not washed my hair since the night before my hand surgery.
I had the luxury of a warm hotel room and knew that Wednesday night would be the last time for a shampoo for who knew how long. I would first have to wait until my hand was well enough to forego the wrappings and then would have to wait until the hand was strong enough. Washing long hair is not an enterprise to be lightly entered!

After talking to the Peace Guy when he was down for December's end, I had felt better about the hair situation.
Apparently, there's a movement against frequent shampooing of hair.
As you know, every time the tresses are washed, protective natural oils are stripped away. Sure, you can pay for additional products to restore some protective qualities, but that's spending more money.
I definitely saw the sense of the argument to not 'poo.
Plus, the weather got colder and having a wet head, in the house or not, didn't seem to be a good idea.
I would brush my hair, distributing the oil from my scalp down the length of the hairs and on to the ends, long gentle strokes that gently massaged my head.
Such a pleasant experience!
I thought about doing the 100 strokes that I did regularly as a girl...
but I doubt recently that I ever did more than twenty.

Shocked as my two friends were, they both told me that my hair looked great.
Now, unless I get something nasty spilled on my hair, why should I 'poo?
My hair looks and feels wonderful... and that's the desired end result, n'est-ce pas?