The Power of the Shower

Today…was not the best of days. Not that was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. It just wasn’t so great. It was one of those days when you want to go home put on your fat-pants and eat a pint of ice cream. Alas,

I gave up things that taste good for Lent, so that coping mechanism was out of the picture. So I went with the king of all pick me ups: A Long, Hot Shower.

(Funny side story, Teddy just texted me to see what I was blogging about, I texted back “showering.” There is a long and hilarious, to me, pause.)

I don’t think there is anyone on the planet that doesn’t enjoy a long, hot shower. Showers are definitely something we take for granted. I’m not talking about people in third world countries who don’t have indoor…or any…plumbing (Although, to be fair and humanitarian, I could be). I’m talking, of course, of reenacting.

Feel free to go, “Ew! Grooooooooooooossssssss!” but for the duration of an event, we reenactors do not shower. Personally, I like to shower the morning of an event, usually a Friday, skip Saturday completely, then take two to four showers Sunday night. Really, that’s not an exaggeration. I have long, thick hair and I need to wash it two or three extra times to get it back to the right, clean feeling texture. At the risk of sounding repulsive, it’s really not too bad.

Naturally, when not camping out, I shower daily, but they’re usually quick, ten or fifteen minute showers. After an event, hoo boy, I can stay in there for an hour easy. And it is soooooooo nice. Call me crazy, but I love the post shower campfire smell that comes out of my hair. Hair is designed by nature to trap and hold scents…hence stinky armpits and, uh, “happy trails”. Cave people mated much like animals, attraction to each other’s scent, but I digress. After a weekend of cooking over an open fire, for about a week after an event my hair will smell, in my opinion, like bacon when I wash it.

You can imagine how grimy and gross you’d feel wearing six or seven layers of clothing camping in July at say, Gettysburg, and not showering for three days. So, when I check into the hotel Sunday night, there are three things on my mind, shower, food, and bed. I tend to not eat much at reenactment; maybe it’s the sun, maybe the corset, whatever, all I know is I eat about one meal a day. When I’m set to re-enter the modern day, my modern day appetite returns with a vengeance. Anyone who as been camping can relate to the desire for a hotel bed. But that shower, oh, that glorious, glorious shower. Nothing on this earth can compare to a hot, steamy, pulsing shower after three days of reenacting. My favorite part is washing my hair, not because of the aforementioned bacon smell, but the deep, massaging scrub of the scalp is so relaxing. I love to lather up my shampoo so I can scoop all my hair off my shoulders and let the foam run down to my feet. I swear, it is pure ecstasy.

After the first shampoo, I grab the shower gel and, if I’m home, a loofah. Its good to have a nice floral scent, I happen to be partial to “clean” scents as well. Dancing Waters by Bath and Body Works is excellent. Again, bubble it up. Around this time, I like to pretend I’m in a Dove commercial. I’m enjoying getting clean so much, that I haven’t noticed the sunburn, mosquito bites, etc. This is the revitalized stage of the shower. Next, I shampoo my hair again, this time like I do on any given day. We are entering into the phase where the pleasure of showering is starting to wear off and I am becoming aware that I was as gross as I was. Once I hit this point, the nature-loving side of me goes back into hiding. If I find a tick on me now, I will be completely grossed out. Any creepy-crawlies that made their way into my bags in the field are disgusting once again. Not that I enjoy bugs while reenacting, but when camping you expect to come in contact with them. In your hotel room, they are not welcome. Mindset changes completely.

The next step is to put conditioner in, just leave it in. I grab my razor, with a brand new blade if possible, and a scented shaving cream. I like to have as many scents as possible, I want sensory overload. Rinse the conditioner. Since I’m still in there, I might was well soap it up again. Aaaaaand one more shampoo couldn’t hurt. Polish that off with another quick condition. Lovely. Now I can turn off the water, but I’m not done yet. Its time for lotion. Once the fog is wiped off the mirror, I see the full effect of the weekend: sunburn, windburn, dehydration did a number on the lips, blood shot eyes. Blood shot eyes? Oh, right, I got a total of eight hours sleep in the past 72 hours. Disregard jeans and blouse I thought I’d wear to dinner. Replace with “comfy” clothes intended for the drive home or debate whether pajamas will be acceptable attire to the restaurant. Whichever I decide, I’m going to first bury my face in the clean clothes and inhale the scent of detergent and softner. Ahhhhhhhhhhh!Alll done, nice and squeaky clean. Get a small feast to satsfy the threatening growls from my stomach and pass out for twelve hours.

Perfect Sunday night.