from mid-april to early march, i had dreadlocks. no, i am not rastafarian. jah does not provide for me, nor do i find all things irie.
back when i was a wee teen, i attended CCOC (central county occupational center; or, as we liked to sound out, "see-cock"). and every day, during break-lunch-siesta, i would sit on a bench with my fries and hot chocolate and watch the mechanic students line up at the cafeteria. one of them was a girl.
not only was she a girl mechanic, she was a girl mechanic with black and pink dreads. and she was skinny. and wore all black. and was therefore absolutely awesome to me, a lightly-chubby network admin student* with crappy red curly crap-hair.
she, along with a certain vampire: the eternal struggle playing card (i bought tons of those stupid things when i was younger. it was only for the pictures and because "vampire" was in the title, i never actually played with them) that cemented dreadlocks in my mind for the next decade. yes, it took me at least ten years to make good on my fantasy of wild, crazy noodle-hair.
it cost $245. it took over four hours. it happened on the day peter steele died. and six months or so later, i was tired of it.
what's the point to this big long spiel? during that whole time, my scalp was off limits to me or anyone else, outside of hair washing. a whole year devoid of the feeling that comes from lying under clean, warm blankets in a dark room while someone else's hand (that part is important, because the muscles in your shoulders get sore quickly if you do it yourself, thus ruining the effect) strokes your hair and rubs your scalp. it's almost like being in the womb again. because i totally remember that time, duh.
* HAHAHAHAHAHAHA i remember NOTHING from that class except deltree and always check the physical layer! and getting humped against a wall. that was completely different, though.