The Late Arrival

I’m not taking the easy way out today. Easy would be ranting about how my post from last year at this time was about a mass murder and this year, this week is only a week after another mass murder, and today is the day that legislation controlling firearms was voted down even as funerals are being held for people killed in the latest mass murder. At this point, Easy would force me into a corner, curled up in the fetal position while sucking my thumb. Instead, I’ll tackle more palatable topics because there's just too much insanity right now and I'm just unable to can with Easy . Thank you, Awesomely Luvvie for creating the mug we all need at one time or another. What's Easier than Easy? Things like... Where Did My Eyebrows Go and When Did They Leave? No really. I used to have eyebrows. Like, on each side of my face. Sometimes they’d convene in the middle, conversating and strategizing ways for them to be the best, most efficient unibrow they...

My mom was from the “Old School” where hair was defined as “Good” and “Bad” and it was no secret that mine was the latter. Now, stop shaking your head and thinking that I should probably seek therapy because of such a sad childhood. The label wasn’t an indictment against my personality or intellect; rather it was an indicator of the amount of work needed to get my nappy hair under control. Sometimes that meant just combing through and detangling, and other times, it meant going to Miss Thelma, the beautician who would “press” my kinks straight with a metal comb that was heated -- the "hot comb." By the time I hit my twenties, I tired of the hot comb routine and decided to chemically straighten out the naps with a “relaxer.”    This process not only changes the molecular structure of hair; but also forces a crazy bi-monthly game of whack-a-mole in an effort to beat the naps out of the nappy growth just as it begins to burst through the scalp. Sometimes,...