Hair's The Thing

I recently discovered - in a Christine Columbus kind of way - a new hair product. As with all things new that I "discover" and try and realize it's worth sharing, I shared it. I still use it, but, not as much as I did when I first started. The reason is a simple one: I like to wear my hair in many different ways. Ease of flexibility is one of the reasons I've never done the sister locks/dreads thing.

There is a certain satisfaction for me in being able to do all sorts of things with my hair: afro, chiney-bump, cane-row, pony-tail, press and hot-curl, press and pony-tail... You catch my drift. Little did I know at the time of my purchase and new interest in this product, that, as one of my sis mentioned, "It's a whole natural-hair industry out there!" I think my reply was along the lines of: "I don't want to be a part of an industry! I just want to not go "Ow! Ow!" when I comb my hair!"

My mom (one of my earliest hairdressers) had cut my hair when I was about 16-yo. You see, it had gone through the relaxing process and, true to stressing-about-exams form (at least, that was the governing theory), much of it had started breaking. So, she did what had to be done. I sported a low 'fro for much of my Lower Six year at Wolmer's Girls. On a recent trip to Jamaica, I came across a photo I had taken with Isabel, an exchange student from Spain. We were enjoying a hearty laugh, but, I could not have looked more boyish if I'd actually tried. Very low-cut hair, small boobs... The more things change. Oh! I digress.

Years later, on the last lap of reading for my degree in English at the UWI, I had to cut it low - again. Same reason: exam stress. My story. Sticking to it. Those days saw me in more chiney-bumps than the average bear. I had someone do it in twists for the graduation picture at the assigned studio. (I did not attend the graduation.) During the two years of doing the MA in Communication (without the 's') at SUNY, I wore my hair in a variety of the ways mentioned earlier. After graduation (I did attend), I relaxed it again. The Rochester, NY weather did take its toll, but not as much as an exam stress would have, I imagine.

Some time after moving to Canada, I decided to give it a break from the relaxing. These temps don't play! Plus, there had been the stressful period of unemployment shortly after relocating. Take my word for it. That is a horse of a different pigmentation altogether. So, first I tried weaving in hair. You  know, where it's sewn in? Worst. Mistake. Ever! As in, ever! I had never done that before, and that was the first and the last time. As the hairdresser took out the weave bit by bit, my resolution grew firmer and firmer. That thing was nothing short of damaging to my hair. It was a tad traumatic for someone who was severely lacking in adventures of the hair kind - never bleached it; never coloured it...  Anyway, moving right along.

On a subsequent visit to Jamaica, I had a talk with my hairdresser. She cut it and did the short twists. In a few months, it had grown so fast - beyond even her expectations. I've kept it unprocessed and I do like it. This is no hurry-come-up decision. It was, as before, borne out of necessity. But it has...grown on me. Badam tsss! :D  Here's the thing (Monk voice), I honestly don't think I could manage the "black women's hair industry" thing. For a moment I did consider selling the product, but, I...I talked myself out of it. I hear lingo describing hair types and all I can think of is that I give my hair 5/5 Ows! I am thankful, however, that the variety of styles I wear, (see above) I can do myself. Saves me quite a bit. Plus, they all suit my face. I have that kinda face. Lol! That reminds me of a scene in a Monk episode - Mr. Monk Goes to the Theater - where he joined the line-up for the speed dating. One of the women says to him: "I like your eyes." Monk goes: "Well, thank you. They came with the face." Hahahahaha!!! Ahhh #ILoveMonk.

Anyway, it did still hard fi comb! Another one of my sis told me about the Curl Enhancing Gelly product. After the second or third time trying to convince me (I was sure it wouldn't work on my 5-Ow! hair) we placed an order. In the comments section: Please hurry. Hair emergency. And, hurry they did! I'm happy with the purchase and would definitely recommend it to anyone wanting to try for soft twists that last a while. Funny. This came to mind.

Now, to colour it red!

Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

"The Castle" - A Short Story

Well, here goes.  Having decided to put my story-telling skills on show, for public consumption and criticism, I'm beginning with this one:

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THE CASTLE

(A SHORT STORY)

She was fine.  She was sitting at her desk, in her new full-time, permanent Administrative Assistant position.  It wasn’t the Executive Assistant one Francine had applied for, but, she was fine. 

She reflected on the initial months after leaving Jamaica for Rochester, New York.  She’d harboured a kind of apprehension, tempered with worry and embarrassment.  Both she and her husband had stayed away from Facebook – for the most part.  A few months, dwindling funds, increasing worry and dozens of résumés later, they both landed temporary jobs.  Hers was part-time then.

Before long, Susan, her supervisor, took a liking to her efficiency, professionalism and pleasant demeanour.  She told Francine about an upcoming position and Francine had applied.  The interview had gone well.

It so happened that, just as she had finished the interview that day, the full-time Admin Assistant, at the time, saw her descending the stairs.

“And what was that about?” Meghan called out from her desk.

“Oh, just a meeting with Susan,” Francine tried being evasive. 

“Oh?  I know she’s leaving.  You’ve heard that, right?  Was it about her position?”

There was no stopping this woman!

“She just wanted to talk about an opportunity,” Francine glanced outside, trying to appear nonchalant.

“Hmm. You know Francine, if it’s about her position, that kind of move would be pretty quick. It’s not often that someone from another country comes in and moves up that quickly.”

Francine didn’t like the sound of that; not at all.

“I mean, it’s not about you!” Meghan continued.  “I’m just wondering why I’m always being overlooked.  But, whatever!  That kind of position is too demanding, anyway.”

Wow.  It really took a certain kind of person to say stuff like that.  She’d heard and read about Meghan’s kind.  Francine knew she had to be careful – news clearly travelled fast in their small company. “Well, we’ll see how it goes,” she replied.

Several days after that, Susan had called her into another meeting.  This time, she explained that she mightn’t have handled the situation well.  It was her understanding that “someone” had said “something” and they’d had to revisit the hiring process.  She apologized – several times.  She explained further that they were prepared to offer her a different full-time, permanent position – Meghan’s position; that she and the Director both hoped she would accept as they were so very happy to have her.

Meghan’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

 “…new laptop for my new position.  Is it here yet?

“Not yet,” Francine replied, without looking up.

“Well, I’m going back up to The Castle.  That’s what they call it, right? Ha ha!  The Castle. How funny is that?”

Francine looked up and managed a half-smile.

Before she ascended, however, Meghan leaned over Francine’s desk a bit and said in lower tones, “You know Francine, I don’t know who said anything to Susan.  All I did was mention to one of the girls that it seemed they were hiring for Sue’s job.  The next thing I knew, I was called for an interview and they offered me the Executive Assistant position.  I mean, I’d even said to them, “It’s ok, you can give this position to Francine.”  But, I guess they stuck to their decision, eh?”

This time, Francine raised one eyebrow, followed by the faintest of smiles.  It was hardly detectable, really.

That evening, over dinner, she updated her husband on the latest exchange.

“She chat to much!  She neva hear seh ‘cock mout kill cock’”?  He asked.

“It nuh look suh!” Francine replied, raising her glass to her lips. “Time longer dan rope, man.  Time.” 

The End

 

Claudia 

www.cyopro.com

www.twitter.com/cyopro