Hello October

We're having a heatwave in the UK.  It came about late September, and is still here.  Sweltering and random days ahead.

I wanted to write about the many changes that have been occurring in the midst of summer, however...my mind is drawing blanks.  The heat can have that effect.

I'm starting to lose sight of my goals now that I'm back at uni though.  I do not enjoy this job already, and want to change it.  But I swore to myself that I'd stay for at least a year.  But then that promise altered to 6 months.  Now I'm begging myself to stay till Christmas.  I hate changing jobs; it's a lot of searching, waiting, paperwork, and all of that usually involves no money, and loss of time.  Time is another currency I cannot afford to waste.

Money is a very important issue now.  I desperately want to have a car by this time next year, and as far as savings go, I will be starting from scratch. I also need to finally pay off these debts.  Even though I'm not actively pursuing the dream of being published, I am rehashing, and thinking of stories. As far as I'm concerned the rest of this year is mostly about securing the necessary assetts and connections that will make next year a success.  I'm determined that 2012 will be my year.  After all, it's the year of Dragon.

Anyway, I said I would talk about a few changes.  I changed my hair; I got Senegalese Twists put in.  This took a lot of persuasion from myself and my family. For many, many reasons.  I had braids for 16 years.  From age 0 to 16.  There weren't any changes, no relaxer, no perms.  In fact the minute I could get extensions put in, I said goodbye to braids, and I guess I meant business, because I haven't had my hair in braids for about 6 years.  

Although I love having hair extensions, there was something slightly bizarre about it.  For instance I was paying around £400 every few months to buy this hair that (supposedly) came from someone else's head, to have it attached to mine, just so that I could be seen as acceptable to people from other races.  Every black girl I saw in the UK, looked like me. Well, obviously not as gorgeous (jk) but we all looked like we went to the same hairdresser.  I got fed up of the sizing up if I had put extra effort in my hair, or if I dared go beyond 18 inches (and believe me I dared).  I did not feel like an individual anymore, and I also felt slightly sick with myself, covering up my own hair, with someone else's.  

So far...I have a mixed opinion on my twists.  My friends (male and female) say they look lovely, and I have many comments at work about how beautiful my hair is.  I like that I can pull up my hair without worrying about tracks showing.  I like that I can still swing my hair from side to side and pretend that I'm a lifeguard on baywatch when I run.  However, I still feel a familiar itch for my hair extensions.  

I think the lesson I've learnt here, is that there needs to be a balance of belief and expression.  I'm proud of my natural hair, and I think that I should show it off with braided styles more often.  But I also enjoy my hair extensions.  I also don't like to be boxed in to any stereotype.  Out of everything I am, I am not an afrocentric, or rastafari.  Nor am I a Barbie girl, or an airhead.  It's a shame that something as trivial as hair can stand for and mean so much.  But it does.

ttfn x