Low maintenance, mon petit

Write.

To you, a friend.

I knew you for a short time.

I’ll call you Mr. Canterbury because you showed me what Canterbury was about.

Never afraid to speak your mind.

Your hands wide open like those of the Son of God.

Talented to the core – I only heard your music once

And the prayers at the fountain, oh the prayers…

You listened to my student ramblings, I listened to how many students you had to teach that day.

I remember your faculty office, as clear as day.

I can’t believe it – some part of me says you’re asleep.

Another part of me tells me to grab Surprised by Hope and cry in its pages.

He is Risen. You will rise. I am stunned to my core.

Humanity is so…so…like grass. The prophet was right.

Rest in Him, Brian. For now, I’ll just weep.

A lot’s been going on and this week is pretty much the week of rejuvenation. Just a breakdown of the semester:

• Research internship for most of the summer, after which I’ll take another break, drive to a surfing spot, surf, then study for the MCAT.
• Got a 3.5 ish GPA this semester. It was hard, painful and I cried like no other.
• I went completely natural on the 15th, after 9 months and 5 days of transitioning. Pictures soon.
• Saw Angels and Demons last night.
• I can’t remember what else.

But a lot has happened for sure from March till now. I just am too busy to blog. Sue me?

Juggling bills. Up late because I NEED to study and have been doing lots of work so far. *yawn* Lent has begun. Given up nothing. Picked up something. Net’s in the apartment now. Neurons are fried to a crisp. Save my soul.

Sick of people’s reactions to me on online communities. Will probably shut up on most of them for a while. 

When you’re invisible in the world of men,
They can be fathers, brothers, enemies, friends
But never lovers.

‘Tis best to chuck your chin, walk your stride

Because you’re a ghost in their town

You don’t fit their bloody standards

And they might as well not fit yours.

Roll the wheel alone, alone.

Roll the wheel alone.

I’m now eternally celibate. No, I’m not a nun. But pretty close if you ask me. Now I no longer have to worry about attractiveness and all that tripe. I can just live life.

I came into this new year with no resolutions or expectations. I’m fine with that – just not with setting a few goals for the next 365 days (because I tend to forget, fail or go into rigid left-brain mode). I set goals when they come to me. And I still have goals from past years left over. ‘Tis all I have to say about New Years’ resolutions.

I’m settled in my new apartment, but since the Net doesn’t come on until January 1st, I go to the libraries around town to steal some WiFi (and in some cases, really slow connections on PCs that don’t belong to me). I don’t have my microwave yet, but I have peace of mind from God above. 

I got a 4.0 this semester for the first time in a long time, yet my finances are in the dump. I had a furniture delivery fee come out of nowhere, and I had to thank God I’m working during the break, because I can feel this recession bite my butt. It’s not easy being broke when you have bills to pay. But God is sovereign.

I have to catch the bus in 10 minutes…*yawn* Lunch today with a co-worker had put me in a food coma. That, and only 7 hours of sleep.

There are people who stay the same, like evergreen trees, and others who change, like the seasons. So, deal.

I got confirmed as an Episcopalian this past Sunday. Since then, a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. In earlier posts, I’ve sort of described how liturgy is like my home, and I feel like God had left a marker in my life timeline by my infant baptism in an Anglican church. I can tell you right now that the baptism at age 12 was not my choice. And the tongues were fake.

Like my natural hair, I’m getting negative responses from my mother. A few days before, she sent me two messages at 5 am telling me to reconsider. No can do, Mom. It’s been done.

My church is sound, and I’m being fed. Yet afterwards, I felt like a post-evangelical (Internet Monk reference). I could listen to an evangelical podcast and actually feel left out. Huh. 

And there has been nothing wrong with the last 2 churches I’ve been in after leaving the Word of Faith craziness. It’s just sometimes, we worship differently. And I worship quite well with the Divine Hours, than say, clapping and singing. I do sing, and more loudly than I’ve done in any of my previous churches. “Let All Mortal Flesh Keep My Silence” is one of my favorite hymns. 

Oh well, I’m thankful for my confirmation. And my car. And my upcoming apartment. And the fact that I can now stomach Beyonce’s new music. LOL.

I haven’t updated in ages. Basically, I’ve been a busy bee. After-midterm tests, work and other things.

I’m getting confirmed as an Episcopalian on Sunday.

But this post is reserved as a “random uttering” of my decision to go natural.

I’d love to thank Tiffany, who lovingly showed me the way. You aren’t militant one bit, and I love how you tie the health of your hair to holistic stuff and wellness.

I am not going natural because it’s a trend (yes, I do see patterns among acquaintances who were going natural) or because my hair is in bad shape. My hair is in awesome shape, much to the surprise of my mother, but I put it up in ponytails and buns all the time.

I am not going natural because of some sort of Afrocentrism (heck, I’m as African as African can get). I am not going natural because of some militant people pushing me. Believe me, I have met one, and let me use this space to give a mini-rant. You probably don’t even know who you are, but just know that my decision has NOTHING to do with you. At the point that you were going off on me, I was contemplating going natural in the future. However, you made it a point to paint me as some brainwashed freak. God have mercy on your soul.

I am going natural, first of all, because I have never seen my coils until college (and sometimes in high school), when I had new growth. My mom relaxed my hair at the age of 2. There’s something very disconcerting about a little girl with calcium hydroxide in her hair. While many of my friends had pics of full, coily hair, I was stuck with full, straight hair. But it didn’t grow out my scalp that way.

I am going natural because it’s healthier for me. And you-to-whom-I-rant, my going green had NOTHING to do with you. I’ve been green for a while, and I use a lot of natural products on my hair, and a relaxer, is well, synthetic. I can bathe my hair in shea butter and aloe vera all day, but it doesn’t make up for the toxic stuff that’s put on my hair twice a year.

I’m going to be a long term transitioner. I stretch my relaxers twice a year, 6 months at a time, so I’m really not going to start worrying until February. I surf the natural hair boards, and it’s fun.

My Aha! moment occurred while apartment searching with Pops. We visited an office, where the girl who worked there had an AMAZING afro. While I’m not going to live there (shucks!), she was sweet, and I adored her hair.

On the way out, my dad said, “What is up with your hair? Do you go to the salon? You do your hair at home! I don’t know much about hair, but I think you need to lay that undergrowth down.”

I was fuming, even as my uncle and cousin came to my aid. I went back to my room stewing over what he said.

November 5th, I made the decision. 

I’m already 3 months post relaxer, so I have something to work with. This is going to be one good journey.