Quarterlife+


What’s in a name…or a hair-do?

It’s not even 9A.M. What am I doing? Writing? No. Other freelance  work? No. Cooking breakfast? No again. I am sitting in the middle of my living room under my Gold n Hot hair dryer. After what was a long and irritating quest, I did find a sit-under dryer at Sally’s Beauty Supply. The last time I did my hair was a little over two weeks ago, and that took so much prep work that I never got around to posting the pictures (next post, I promise). The Jane Carter Twist and Loc stuff I was using was out of stock. Yes, I went to the company website and they were out of stock. I ended up having to buy it off of Amazon because I couldn’t find it at anywhere.

To make a long story short: Loc cream: Amazon, Shampoo: Target, Dryer: Sally’s, Tea Tree Oil: Random Hair Store

It seems like a bunch of fuss, but does it really matter? Yes. I feel better when my hair is done-almost like a brand new person. What gives you that brand new feel? A new outfit? For me, it’s my hair. The thing is, my hair has to be done how I like it. It could be done in a nice style, but if I don’t like it, I don’t like it. I’m particular.

Today’s a big day (aside from my hair being finally finished). I’m also finally changing my last name. There’s no rhyme or reason as to why it’s being done now. But I’ll say this: I AM SO EXCITED! Yes, it is all caps worthy.

Will I feel like a new person once I have my husband’s last name? I’m not sure. Will it give me that fresh hair-do feel? It may be even better? What about my old name? I feel like I’m washing it away, or off of me. I’m not all that attached to it, but I have had it for nearly 26 years.

Out with the old, and in with the new. I’ll let you know if I feel any different after it’s a done deal.

**UPDATE**

I got my social security card. Here’s how I chose my namesake. It’s not a virus, I promise. It’s a link to my other blog.

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Dreading my dreds? Maybe not.

Last Thursday marked the time I was scheduled to get my hair redone. Not doing anything to my hair for a month was a trial for many reasons. I didn’t have but so many rules to follow. In actuality, I only had two:

Rule #1: Don’t get it wet!

An umbrella and a shower cap would be all I’d need to keep to this rule, so I thought. The shower part, I had covered. I even wore two to be sure. The rain was another story. Well, rain doesn’t always fall straight down. Lo and behold, sometimes it rains at an angle. (That reminds me of an episode of Family Guy where Ollie Williams makes a similar observation.)

My own personal observation: all wetness doesn’t come from the outside! I caught a cold, which is typical since I work with kids. I hadn’t bargained the profuse sweating that happened as my body tried to rid itself of the thing! The whole back of my hair came out! This actually brings me to the second rule I was to follow. This happened not once, but twice.

Rule #2: Re-twist to the left

This I knew I couldn’t screw up. I have a pretty firm grasp of my left from my right. Sadly, I came to discover that I have a pretty firm grasp of my left from my right only when not under the influence of Theraflu and Sudafed. In trying to save my unraveling hair, it became more of a disaster. I didnt know what to do. The faster I twisted, using the Jane Carter stuff, the faster it came out. It was then I realized I was twisting to the right and completely undoing what was left of the slight hint of twists in the back. I will now make a confession: I cheated. The locs wouldn’t stay, so I broke out some extra hold spritz. Spritz shows no mercy, and I was in a desperate place.

So when I got to Miss Pam’s house after work Thursday night, I expected for her to say, “What have you done to your hair?!” To my surprise, she didn’t. She was actually impressed, saying that it looked a lot better than she’d even hoped. Now that, I didn’t know how to take.

I’d bought more Jane Carter Solution products for the occasion: locking spray, shampoo, and conditioner. She washed it, re-twisted it, and put a million clips on it again. Amazingly, this all took about four hours, which was much faster than the last time. I looked at it after she washed it and just knew I was going to be there all night. I still don’t understand how she made her way through what I thought was a tangled disaster area. She cut a good amount of the relaxer out this time too. I was a big girl and didn’t complain about it. It had to be done. I don’t even know why I almost cared. I’m used to my hair being short. I’ve had it cut much shorter than it is now (yes, even with my big head).

Want to see how the night unfolded?

Hair help. hair-do failure

Posted in Hair Stories by Ashley Franklin on October 18, 2009
Tags: , , , , , ,

My hair needs help! It was doing pretty good. I think keeping it covered with a scarf sometimes may be helping, especially when going to bed. So what went wrong?

I caught a cold. Getting sick is bad enough, but the fact that my hair is turning into a disaster is too much to handle. I am freezing cold and struggling to warm up. When I finally get warm, I’m hot. I end up sweating trying to get through this process and my hair ends up being a casualty. I even tried to re-twist some of it. It’s still a mess. Don’t believe me? Here’s a pic:

bk hair

Back of my hair

Worms on your head?

Posted in Hair Stories,Kid Stories by Ashley Franklin on October 9, 2009
Tags: , , , , , ,
I was at Pathmark getting ice cream for some apple pie and saw two women with dreads. I was so excited. I felt like a member of a special club–like maybe a dreads support group or honor society. I wanted to run up to them and say “You too, how long?”. But there’s a special place for folk that walk up to strangers and make them nervous.
Speaking of nervous, I apparently made one little girl nervous. I need to add some hair clips or something to keep my hair from swirling around or flying away. Yes, my hair is still managing to do what it wants even in these baby dreads.  At this moment my sister, Lexi, is tossing on some hair clips to help the cause. I’m not sure how successful we’re going to be though.
 
So anyway, this little girl walks up to me at recess. I already knew I was in for it because she’s secretly one of the funniest kids at the school. She looked up and titled her head to the right. She squinted and put her hands on her hips, bunching up her tiny pink jacket. Then it happened: “Are those worms on your head?”
 
I laughed, and she ran away laughing. As the usual hijinks of the afternoon continued, I actually gave more thought to this comment. The children like worms. They show it everyday by seeing how many they can dig up from the ground and show me in plastic buckets. The idea of worms on my head thoroughly creeps me out. Instead of worms, what if these were snakes on my head?
 
Now that would be a breakthrough for the early childhood field! Instead of saying the same things over and over: stop it, no, we can’t do that, you’re not making good choices, etc., imagine if I whipped off a hat and unleashed some hissing snakes to end all questionable behaviors. I’d be kind of like Medusa, except for that whole turning people to stone thing. The kids would either be shocked or scared to death. I’d get their attention either way, and sometimes that’s half the battle (getting them to listen so you can (re)direct them).
 
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