The only times being a black woman sucks

Lawd take me now!

I just spent the day getting my hair done. No, you misread that....i said i just SPENT THE DAY getting my HAIR done. And i'm not talking braids either....oh no. I'm talking getting it pressed. I went in at 2 and got out at 6:30 and spent some Asian child's entire month's tuition at elementary school doing it too. These are the only time being a black woman sucks big time. And to add to that i am of the pure African variety. So no mixed blood to thin out and prettify my hair. No Indian, Asian, Arab or white in me. Just pure African bush kink. Don't believe me? Look at the picture above and explain to me what kind of mess that is.

It was coiled up so tight that when my hairdresser finally managed to straighten that mess, it was three times as long as it had looked. She broke a comb in my hair. I'm not lying. Before the press it felt like mattress springs. No, it is soft, my hair has always been really soft, but you could bounce a quarter off of it and i promise you you wouldn't find it.

Let me school you on the art of black women's hair. First of all, power to the weave and braids. Much respect. Second, without chemicals...you are fighting a losing battle uphill. I decided to chuck chemicals a year ago. I have been chemical free since November 2004. I figured chemicals were killing my hair which was thinning at alarming rates and falling out. I was forever in braids and when i took them down i got it relaxed and then it was straight back into braids. So all that was doing my hair no good. Seeing as though i can not stand my hair, i am still all about braids. So, to cut down on breakage i went natural. I look like that guy off the movie "The gods Must Be Crazy" when it's natural. And you cannot comb it at all, hence my hairdresser breaking her comb in my hair.

Then the salon process. You make an appointment for 2 and you have to figure four other clients getting their hair done by your dresser at the same bloody time. So she washes you and puts you in the dryer, then gets back to setting someone's hair to put them under the dryer and then she's cutting some man's hair and starting a relaxer on a little girl and going back and forth and back and forth. So you spend the entire day there and you do a lot of waiting. One lady fell asleep in the dryer with some purple gunk in her hair and stained the wall.

But it's straight now (Thank You Jesus) and i have to keep it away from moisture the whole week till my roommate can braid it on Friday. That means i have to be careful not to sweat too much during aerobics everyday and have to wear a shower cap in the shower and make sure steam doesn't creep up in there. Do you see how my life is?

And what really stung was the bill at the end of the day. After all that when i saw the bill....it honestly hurt my soul. My spirit broke and i nearly choked on my heart. And it still hurts right now. And to think i have to spend exhorbitant amounts this week on the hair i need to get braided in. Being a black woman takes a lot of stength, patience and money. And i am running out of all three of those.