So, I haven’t written in a while, my bad. Honestly, the problem is that every time I go to write now I see the entry about my parents and I think “I don’t have anything as good as that”. So, I end up thinking about what it is that I want to write and then I don’t end up writing at all.
I kinda realized just now that that is beside the point. The idea with this blog was just to write about my life anyway. Not everything in life is as big and important as everything else, but it’s still just as much part of my life. So, it should make it to the blog.
I’ve been packing up for my big move to my new place, so there are a lot of little things I keep finding that I haven’t seen in a while. I found a picture of myself today from just after I came to live with Edana and LaShawn. It was back in the day when I used to have those seriously messy pigtails. I started wearing those when I was a kid because my mom would get so sick of messing with my hair. If there was anything I got from my mom it was her hair. Whenever she grew it out it was wild and kinky and in no time she would give up on it. It would end up in braids, or a weave, or just straightened out again. You know, I love my afro, but I’ve had my hair like this for a long time now. I wonder what it would look like if I changed it. I see old pictures of my relatives with straight hair and I wonder what that would look like on me. I guess I’ll never know. You can’t find those chemicals anywhere any more and even if you could it’s against the law. Well, I think it is anyway. Someone told me once that there wasn’t actually a law against it, it was just that people had the good sense not to try it.
Anyway, Paula would lose her mind if I did anything to my afro. She loves my hair more than her own. Looks wise, there are very few things I have on Paula, but hair is one of them. She can’t get her hair to do anything. She always ends up back at the microbraids. Speaking of Paula, I think she’s starting to warm up to the idea of me moving out. She’s making plans for what she’s going to do to my room once I leave. That girl is a trip.
Oh, I’m reading my favorite collection of Maya Angelou poems again. God, I love those things. My dad bought them for me a long time ago. I lost the first copy I had lord knows where, but I bought a new book right after I started teaching. If I could write like that woman did, I’d never stop.
Well, since that isn’t the case. I guess that’s the end of my entry for tonight. I got work in the morning and those kids ain’t gonna teach themselves.
