--for later, keep in mind, that this is long for where I'm at. clarification coming--
Yesterday I let it be known that I spent the entire weekend in celebration for my Sister-cousin. Many of my extended family members were present, putting a pause in the gap since the last time we all converged on a piece of real estate & did what we do best: ACK' A DAYUMB FOOL!! In all my natural hair glory, my people have seen me through a couple...2...3...8 changes in how I present my wig. These days I'm a 1/2 a step away from skint. My head is receiving all kindsa love, no pun intended, & garnering both surprise & something akin to fulfilled expectations. Apparently it's shockingly me & we've all been waiting for me to go this far for a long time in collective silence & patient resolve. Who knew? *shrug*
All of my hair choices have been somewhat radical, outside of the aforementioned group of people, getting me classified as things like Boho chique. It all cracks me up. I have all kinds of wild assumptions being made about me--on the regular--& most of it probably starts with my hair...or my lack thereof. I wanted to take a moment to demystify myself & squash some of the assumptions made about me based on all this head I'm givin' you. I promise...these puns are NOT intended. Anywho...I bring you,
Yes, I'm damn near bald headed but spare me the assumption that:
1. ...I'm vegan. I am not. I never have been. & I doubt I ever will be. If it makes you feel better, I was raised vegetarian. Then this crazy thing happened. I went to school in New Orleans & if I tried to maintain the diet my parents chose for me, I'd have starved. To death. I didn't have a moral dilemma of ANY kind. "I'll have the chicken please." Just like that. & I LOVE chicken now. I eat a few mo' things that were NEVER on the plate as a child, but I keeps it together.
2. ...I like being referred to as Sista-Queen, Nubian Princess... Uhmmm...not so much. Matta'fack, Not. At. All. That madness makes my skin crawl. It seems ridiculous to be disturbed by being called "queen," I'm sure, but it's just so corny to me. It just gives me nightmarish visions of cats with unkempt locs tryna sell incense & oils just long enough to convince me to let him make me a gourmet avocado sammich at MY house & then I gotta pry him off my sofa & outta my house w/a jack. I ain't got that kinda time. It just sounds...broke & directionless. It sounds...community hustler & food bank-ish. I. Can't.
3. ...I frequent Open Mics. Nope. I love to write poetry. It actually helps reset my heartbeat when my everything is off. But I can't stand listening to cats do their best imitation of the Last Poets, Haki Madhubuti, or Sonia Sanchez. They done already did them. Who are you?!? Can you do that please?!? Overall, they make me sleepy, especially cuz those "Sista-Queen" dudes frequent them. No thank you very much please.
4. ...all my panties are white
5. ...I don't curse. Oh...but I do. & depending on where my head's at in any given moment, it can get REAL COLORFUL. Cursing is 1 of the great Black Arts & I consider myself an artist for more reasons than this pen & paper thing. There's just something so....damn near musical about a well-placed expletive.
In case you were still curious--I own a slip, I know what a salad fork is, I only wear head wraps as a last ditch (no longer necessary) effort to disguise a bad hair day, I don't cook tofu well, I'm allergic to being broke, I will dip it low with no shame, and when I wear make-up it's MAC.
Just a little insight into the full shyne of this chick name Ndygo. I feel closer to you already.
Watch me move.