Greetings all!! I am taking on the fantabulous task of blogging. I hear it's a lot of fun, albeit time-consuming. I feel I must write about what it takes to "make it happen" as a professional black "wama" if only to help someone else know and understand that they are not the only person who needs 4 additional hours to everyday. (Sidenote: "wama" means wife and mama.) I hope you enjoy my ramblings (most likely rants), pick up some helpful advice, and learn from me as I learn from my mistakes and/or journeys.
I don't profess to know everything, in fact, most days I think I know less than I did the day before. (The good thing is) I learn something new about myself everyday, which for me is weird because before I marched into the corporate zone, I thought I pretty much knew most of what I needed to know about myself. HA! Geez was I misguided. Whatever. I guess I will live and learn as my mother always says. Just these past two weeks I have learned that I am super indecisive when it comes to my hair. If you are interested in this blog, you most probably know--and have dove head first (pun intended) into the age-old female debate: creamy crack (perm) or natural hair. I should say, upfront, that I don't give a hoot about how people decide to wear their hair. "As long as you like it--I love it!," is my mantra. However, I don't think people should be guilted into wearing one form over the other, for whatever reason the opposition gives.
I have worn my hair in many different styles and lengths over the years. For the first 9 years of my life my hair was natural. And most of my memories of that time consist of either being popped in the head with a comb or brush for not sitting still, crying because it hurt, or my grandmother standing over me on Easter Sunday morning with a straightening comb, screaming "child be still, that was just the grease rolling on yo' scalp." Really?
Then it was the ever famous "Jerry Curl," because "Michael Jackson had one." Then cornrow braids, because my mama worked and didn't have time to comb my "head" everyday. Then back to the Jerry Curl for a few years. However, in the 7th grade I begged for a perm because everybody was getting rid of their Jerry Curls (especially after that scene in "Coming to America" where the whole family had Jerry Curls and they sat on the sofa and left Jerry Curl "juice" spots all over the headrests). My mother allowed me to get a perm and so it has been since then--with periods of extensions, weaves, cornrows--long, short, and in-between.
Well, 2-weeks ago, I decided I was going to go natural. My reasoning? I was sick of going to the salon every week. Every week without fail I HAVE to go to the salon. I have super bad dandruff and if my hair is not washed every 7 days--day 8 is the very reason why dandruff shampoos exist. Sooo, I figured if I cut it all off I could skip the salon and be free. Right? Wrong. So needless to say, after 2-weeks of protesting the perm, I am too tied to my hair to chop it all off at once (I went to the salon and got the creamy crack applied today). After all, I actually just completed my, "I'm going to grow it all out so I can have a ponytail on bad hair days" stage. Which was working fine until I decided I wanted to teach my daughters how to swim. Who thinks swimming (multiple times a week) with permed hair is a good idea (raise your hands)? I thought not, which brings me to the ultimate conclusion that my hair will meet its natural end (natural, chopped short from the breakage, or teeny weeny afro) after swimming this entire summer with permed hair. Oh well, such is life. . . .
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