11.25.2007

Happy Thanksgiving!

What am I thankful for? Let me ponder...

I'm grateful for having such a wonderful, caring family, for being
alive, and for all of life's possibilities.

Thanksgiving was an emotional day for me, but a wonderful holiday,
nonetheless. How did your Turkey day go?

Last Sunday was my birthday! I'm 22 now, and the past year flew by, just
as my older counterparts warned me! LOL! I had the ka-yutest b-day
hairdo, but only after having to make a quick improvisation.

I'd been planning to flat iron my hair for a straight look. I figured,
"Why not, its a special occasion,". I hadn't so much as unraveled the
power cord to my flatiron in months, and I was a tiny bit worried about
the damage it may cause.

I plugged the flatiron in, and the smell of burnt hair hit my nostrils.
Disgusting! I parted my hair in the back, and started the process. I
cringed as my hair began to singe. Wisps of smoke and steam floated
upwards, bearing witness to the damage. I inspected the first, and last,
section of straightened hair. Yes, it was long. Yes, it was silky. It
didn't matter; the apprehension of the irreversible damage that I would
do to my hair kept me from going any further.

The first three photos were taken right after I stopped the madness...

I wet my hair all over to do some flat twists up front. The straightened
hair in the back didn't curl as tightly as the rest of my hair. It just
hung there, limp and obviously longer than the rest of the strands
nearby. I couldn't help but feel a little grief. What if those curls
never return? What if this hair breaks off? Deecoily tried to tell me,
but I wouldn't listen. At least I had sense enough to stop while I was
ahead.

I parted my hair from ear to ear, and secured the hair in the back. For
the twists, I used Fantasia ic Gel and secured them with butterfly
clips. I used my 1/3 conditioner. 2/3 water mixture to spray on the rest
to keep it moist.

The results were fire! I was proud of myself, given that this was the
first time I did a style like this. Yay me!

I shall return...thanx for reading my blog
The Trotter is bright (:Þ)

11.05.2007

Why NappyNest?

Why the name NappyNest?

Ever since I was a little girl I have loved animals. At the age of five, my grandmother, who raised me, got me a snow-white dove, just like the kind you see at weddings. Ever since then I have always had a bird for a pet. Right now I have a beautiful cockatiel named Thunderbird, T-Bird for short. Well, in my early stages of transitioning, I would let my hair air dry after washing. I noticed that T-Bird would fly or climb up to my shoulder and gently "preen" my hair or play with the droplets of water dangling from my curls. I was afraid he would break or nibble away the ends, so I would shoo him away or give him a toy to busy himself with. As my hair grew longer, my curious T-Bird was more and more attracted to my tresses. This was at a time when those around me were trying to convince me to use that creamy-hell-fire crack. I was feeling defeated since I was running out of styling ideas and was experiencing some social pressure.

T-Bird would take every chance he could get to fly up to my hair and perch, and I couldn't figure out what his fascination was! One day, while cleaning the house, I let T-Bird play out of his cage. As I was moving from room to room, T-Bird would fly into whatever room I was in and ultimately end up on my shoulder. At first, I was irritated and too busy cleaning to play with him, but he was persistent! I decided to see what was so interesting to him. When he perched on my shoulder, I let him stay. I walked up to a mirror to watch him do whatever he was doing. The next moment was life and mind changing for me.

T-Bird would scoot as close as he could to the base of my neck and surround himself with my hair. I could imagine that he felt as if he were deep in the Congo, surrounded by black vines! He then would, gently, grasp strands of my hair with his tiny feet and preen them with his beak. I've since learned that cockatiels preen their owners as they would a bird mate. It is a way of showing affection. He was so delicate and meticulous, and he wasn't nibbling as I had thought previously...he was simply running each strand through his beak. I know this may sound strange to some of you, letting a bird get all up in my hair. But birds are one of the most graceful creatures on this earth, and he was showing me something that I never discovered in my own life. He took his time and "did" my hair by bird standards. He was so careful as to not break one strand.

It was then that I realized that I didn't have that much respect for my hair, to handle it with care. I not once in my life was ever that gentle with my hair. As a child, I learned that my hair was a nuisance, a "job", a problem to be dealt with. It was to be raked through with a comb, attacked with a brush, sizzled by chemicals. I wasn't taught to explore my hair, I was taught to "get it over with". I wasn't taught to love my hair, I was taught to "do something with that nappy shit". I wasn't taught to be proud of who I am, I was taught to hide what made me who I am.

This bird had no choice but to see who I am through eyes that would never judge, never categorize. I knew then that I needed eyes like him. I needed eyes that saw my hair for what it was-MY hair. I needed eyes that wouldn't wince at the sight of "new growth". I needed eyes that would gaze upon nappy hair and twinkle with amazement. I needed eyes that would stare for hours at the curls, zig-zags, and corkscrews sprouting from my scalp. I needed eyes that would tear up at the thought of ever damaging it again as I had done for so many years.
From that day on, I've been seeing with a bird's-eye view.
Thanx for reading my blog!