Back in the day, I got this delightful idea. I figured that since I was a black kid, living in a white and asian college town (and because I was scared of the barbers there) I would stop getting my hair cut. At first it was just like this cool way for me to rebel against the system (gotta pick my fights better, I know). It made me feel alright though. As the months passed by, they turned into a year and then more. In all of my curly locked glory, I made a silly mistake. As a result of my hair being so long, I got really lazy. After a while, It hurt a lot to comb my hair, so I would just stuff it all in a du-rag, and I’d call it a day. I was a little annoyed with my hair. I thought that it was too hot in the spring, and too much work during the winter.
It was kind of a nuisance, until I went home for thanksgiving one year. Instead of getting something done with that monstrosity on my head, I decided that it would be ok for me to just du-rag it up. (damn, I was not the smartest back in the day…) My mom was not the happiest person about me showing up to thanksgiving dinner with a du-rag on. The next day, I think I was probably up for all of about 5 minutes, when she declared that I should leave the house and not come back until I cut my hair. I wasn’t welcome back until I did something with it. (Actually, she told me that I could get it braided/twisted or cut. I was just too broke though. Hence, I spent that afternoon in a barber’s chair, remember all the good times that I had with my hair.
Sitting at work the other day (in my favorite new spot, mind you) I was remembering my lazy afternoons on the quad back in my college days. It was so glorious. I would probably be chillin’ with someone, or just between meeting up with some people. Even though I’m all “grown” now and liking my life, I wish that I was just back under the trees in the middle of campus.
I was sittin in a coffee shop a few days ago. I know, I know, I do hate all forms of hot liquid, but I like to be social. I was there with a couple of my friends from the new neighborhood. We were chattin’ it up and just randomly struck up a conversation about relationships. We talked about how we were missing things about being in a relationship. The joy of just sitting and holding someone’s hand. Perhaps wishing that you were able to hug someone that you loved. Spending time with that someone who captivates all your thoughts and being fulfilled by spending time with them. Such a romantic notion right? Who doesn’t like intimacy with another person? We’re all built for companionship right (I know, I act like a hermit, but I really do like people… Most times.) Do we miss the actual relationships themselves or do we just miss the idea of being in relationships?
I’m always about moving foward and not stepping back though. Does that mean that it’s unhealthy to think of such things in the context of an ex-significant other? I would suggest not. I mean, I’d rather think about my ex girlfriend, who I knew and cared for, than someone that I just met off the street or something like that. (Although, I realize that sounds quite stalker-like.) I maintain that I have no idea how I got into that house. I wasn’t even there that night… You can prove NOTHING!…
I get sidetracked sometimes
Oooh look! Something shiny!