The Hair Up There

For the past 20-odd years, I have waged an epic battle of control against a most formidable opponent: my own hair. The war has been fierce, each victory against the nap hard worn. Utilizing a considerable arsenal, I kept my hair not itself using presses, Jheri curls, Kool-aid color (Fruit Punch, thank you), Peroxide, Bantu, black gel, etc. to fry it into submission. I was so fly...it's true. But, it was exhausting!

Then last year.... my skin and hair staged a coup. They turned on me! I was betrayed...not so much by my actual hair...but by my super, ultra, extremely sensitive skin that refused to be chemically burned again just so I could look like I have Indian in my family. And so, September 18, 2007, I waved the white flag -- or in my case, headrag. I let it go. Chopped it off. And, it felt great....for about 3 months.

Then, began another battle...to keep it soft, to keep it tamed, to keep it neat...and this time, this time, oh, my nappy hair is kicking my butt. It's a thing possessed. One day, soft, sassy, touchable ringlets. The next, a tangled, dry, brittle dragon's nest. Payback, I presume, for the Super Strength Hawaiian Silky circa 1996....or maybe it was the Kwame' blonde streak and finger waves, est. 1992.

Either way, I just need help! I admit it. This is my hair SOS...and somebody better help me soon.

I just want to live in perm....I mean peace.