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Organic produce delivered to your door

I just discovered Planet Organics, a Bay Area company that delivers fresh, in-season organic produce from local growers straight to your door. What a great way to have tasty, fresh and healthy foods while supporting local businesses! Not to mention the exciting grab-bag effect of getting new produce every shipment, depending on what’s at its peak season.

Henna is an inherently healing person-to-person activity, and I suspect that many henna artists would have an interest in solutions like this — easy ways to support your local growers while indulging a taste for finer things in life and reducing one’s ecological footprint and dependence on harmful chemicals. Thus, my off-topic post sharing my new find. 🙂

Can’t wait for my first shipment on Tuesday. I get to experiment with radishes and persimmons next week!

“Language of Women” translated into Man-lish.

This doesn’t seem to be as much of a problem in the west, where henna is most easily associated with tattoos, which are in turn commonly associated with big, muscular, burly guys. However, where henna originates, it’s seen as a woman’s art, sometimes even referred to as "the language of women." These guys have mixed opinions on henna, of course, but most would agree that it’s an art form best suited to ladies, like manicuring, hair highlights, jewelry, and other metro-trendy ways of gussying up. And naturally, in the west, guys do not like traditionally delicate, floral patterns on themselves either. (Take it easy, fellas, I’m not saying you should. That’s why there are manly incarnations to henna. Take tribal designs, for example. Mmm, sexy!) Anyway, all of this distrust aimed at henna by the male half of the species makes me especially appreciate images like this:


See, guys? Henna is sexy on men, too!

(Thanks to Arca for sharing the link to this image, btw.)

Henna is a tough thing for a Western enthusiast to explain. You have to explain to the conservative ladies that it’s not a tattoo. Yet you have to explain to the fragile-ego’d men that it’s not quite makeup, either. And apparently you have to explain to Americans rooted in the culture of henna that it’s not as frivolous as they might think it is.

Henna is in a category of its own, and I hope it’s accepted as thoroughly by men as it’s being accepted by women as it gains popularity here in the west.

If you’re a guy who’s read through this entire post, congratulations! Your patience has earned you a glimpse of this spectacular beauty.

So many compliments!

So yesterday I got like fifteen compliments on my hair in less than two hours as I was running around town doing work stuff. I figured I should include a pic of how it’s looking, since it’s apparently so stellar!


It’s not a week and a half since application, but it’s getting pretty mellow. When I lather up in the shower, though, I still get orangey suds.

As much as I love the softer, thicker hair and groovy red tones, I think I’m happiest that I have a unique hair color now. People no longer confuse me with my coworker Loren (though I always take that as a compliment, because she’s cool and hot), more security guards remember my name and where I’m from, and more receptionists open up to me via comments like, "Wow, I love your hair color — it’s so rich!"

Also, I had to include a pic of my new piercings. 😉 It’s a long story, but I’m extremely proud of them, and highly recommend Braindrops for piercing, antique/tribal pierced jewelry, and as far as I know, tattoos as well (though I don’t have any of those… yet).

November is National Novel Writing Month

For more details, go to www.nanowrimo.org.


After doing henna all weekend… my butt hurts! It’s pretty sad when you get sore muscles from doing something where you’re sitting down the entire time. 😛

You’ve been in the office too long when…

You’ve been in the office too long when you realize your henna stains from the night before have deepened to the color of a redweld.


Okay, I have to give my man serious props, here. Impatient for henna glory, I decided to henna the rest of my hair tonight, even though that means the four-hour mark for washing the stuff out will be at around 2 a.m. There are a lot of comments one can make about smearing a bunch of smelly green goo over your hair and pulling it up into a makeshift turban for four hours. There are even more comments one can make when, after two hours, your turban starts leaking all over you and your couch. It takes quite a man to curb all comments to a single observation of "Huh, that smells funny" and wordlessly grab you a towel while you run to get napkins to wipe up the green slime running down your neck.

Thanks, hon. You’re the best!