I Just Wanna Be Who I Am

I sat watching the Mary Kay consultant hand my Gigi powder after cream after cleanser. I wasn’t offended when that woman looked up and told me that my face was probably two shades lighter than what it looked because I don’t wash it properly. Because honey and oil aren’t effective unlike whatever chemicals my stepmom had just finished using. I was respectful when my aunt (the beautician) decided to join in schooling me on the benefits of this bio-super cleansing, extra natural line of products. The reviews were through the roof. Look at Kristen’s skin! That’s all she uses! And her little friends too!! I didn’t part my lips when my aunt decided to go the “just because you have natural hair doesn’t mean you have to go to the extreme” route. And I didn’t go off when the rant continued on to me not wearing makeup.

“Everything that I do takes 10 minutes.”

“You need to at least wear a tinted moisturizer. Something to even out your skin tone.”

 “You HAVE to wear more that lip stick, or you need to tone it down.”

Because I’m drawing all eyes to my lips with the absence of blush, eye shadow and mascara. I didn’t give them a speech about how I’m as far from high maintenance as the east is from the west. I was silent. But in my head, I was on my soapbox hot with the passion of a Hebrew Israelite at the Gallery Place Metro condemning heathen  commuters. “Look here. I’m not going to put a bunch of gunk on my face unless it’s a special occasion, and I’ll enlist a professional. Nine times out of ten, I’m choosing flats over heels. I’m going to reinterpret the dress code for every event. My lip colors will always be loud. And you will deal.”

My boss called me into her office.

“Listen, I wanted to discuss your appearance for a minute. Now, don’t take this the wrong way because you’re always dressed so adorable, but sometimes it’s a little unprofessional. Like, what you have on today. You have such a cute little shape and some things just show it a little too much. Oh, and do you plan on keeping your hair like that? It’s a little much. There’s a lot going on.”

She gestured to my marley twists. I forgot about the disclaimer the lead to her insulting my teal straight-leg pants, flower print peplum blouse and Mary Jane wedges. Did this woman just come for my hair?! No. Ma’am.

“Sooooo are you saying that I can’t wear my hair in twists, because I didn’t read that in the handbook. I also didn’t see anything about braids. Do you have a problem with braids? That will be my next style. Oh, I’m pretty sure I had twists just like these when I was offered the position. Why didn’t you say anything then?”

End of conversation.


I sat in the chair, mirror in hand, repeating the same instructions. There was too much hair on my head and I wanted it gone. If it couldn’t be twisted, it had to get cut off. My barber was determined that my request was impossible. He’d have to part my hair; a part that would soon be lost, meaning that the solution was to fade my hair instead. NO. I sat there until he figured it out. While he cut, I fielded questions. Why don’t I grow my hair out? Had I at least considered a mohawk? Was I sure about this style? He finally got to the point.

“I just think that women that have nice hair should let it grow.”

Yea, because I paid him every two weeks for his opinion. A good thirty minutes. He cut. I checked and told him to go lower. He didn’t let me out of his chair without a disclaimer. If anyone inquired about my cut, I was to let them know that I have a vision and he had nothing to do with it. I made not to mention him to any of the people who approached me, not with questions or insults but compliments.


WHOO!!! They said be all you can be!!!


New Direction

As I’ve continued to change, I’ve avoided my little corner of the internet. There’s no reason why, other than God. I think this period of life didn’t require me to write. I not only took a break from the internets, but from my notebooks as well. My crutch was set aside, and I learned how to talk to God. With my mouth. I don’t know why I was so intimidated by closing my eyes, looking to the heavens and talking to the Lord. Maybe I didn’t feel worthy enough to talk to him without a buffer. Yeah, that’s exactly what it was. But that’s the beauty of God. He is all for listening to us imperfect people down here on earth. I can’t explain how much this breakthrough has changed my life. It sucks that it took so long for me to get it, but now that I got it I’m oh so good.

Now, let’s get to what I’ve been up to lately. I’ve made new connections, am involved in an amazing new church (shoutout to Nashville Life Christian Church) and have been to a few amazing shows. I’ve also decided which direction that I’m going to take this blog. It’s no secret that I love me a live music experience. I love music in general. I’ve been asked what my dream job would be on multiple occasions, and I’ve given the same answer. If I could get paid to do anything at all, I would choose traveling the world and listening to music. Who says that I can’t do that now? Well, I’m not in the position to travel the world but I can make a few stops across these United States. And why not tell people about my experiences? Sooooo yea, most posts over here will be music and show related. I might even finally buy my domain name. Maybe.

I’m excited to finally get back into sharing. Stick around. This is going to be good.

Tidbits From My Blogging Hiatus

I know, I know. I said that I would post twice a week. I said that I wouldn’t disappear for long periods of time. I’m human. I had the best of intentions, yet weeks have gone by without so much as a click in my corner of the WordPress world. I’m a work in progress. I’m only human. All of the above. I have a few tidbits that I’d like to share. Some of these things were meant to be full posts of their own, but my brain and my pen wouldn’t cooperate.

– First, a couple of  things that I’m not here for. (Since it’s the new online trend. I do find the statement quite catchy, and find myself saying it in real life on occasion)

1. The universal conversation of lil Gabby’s new growth. I don’t care what her mother’s hair looks like. I don’t care how easy it is to slap a perm on. I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care. That child trains day in and day out in West Bumbleboondocks *enter rural state where we don’t think black people live*. That child runs, flips, and tumbles in chalk. She sweats for a living. She crossed the pond for one reason. To be crowned the baddest lil lady in gymnastics, by winning Olympic gold. Her mission has been accomplished. And *gasp* she did it with nappy edges. Her hair was not a factor in nary a score. Her form was near perfect, and that smile is infectious. That girl is a world-class athlete. Leave her be.

2. My face breaking out like a middle schooler. Recently, I’ve notice that my skin has decided to rebel against my face. They are engaging in a war that I was neither notified of, or would have given my consent. I’m 25 years old. I went through puberty quite a while ago. I don’t know what I did to deserve this awkward 8th grader’s skin. I keep telling myself that this is simply toxins leaving my body due to my recent incorporation of green smoothies and my new obsession with vegetables. I have so much more skin on my body. These toxins need to find another exit route.

3. My allergies. Food allergies. Nature allergies. Skin allergies. None of them .


– I’m slowly turning into a healthy eater. I feel it. I’ve been trying to fight it, but my vegetable cravings are no joke. For some reason I want to eat broccoli and carrots all the time. A smoothie and a banana for breakfast, apple for snack and salads for lunch. I don’t know where this came from. My snack drawer at work was infamous. Now, there’s fruit and sunflower seeds. These are the things that I crave. Also, I’ve developed a fascination with juicing. I want to buy an amazing juicer, and eventually make all of my own juice. Of course, I’m going to start with a juice fast, just to see how much crap that it forces to leave my body. There is a down side to this uber-healthy change. I don’t want meat very much. This wouldn’t be much of an issue if I wasn’t allergic to fish. Yes, one of the allergies that I’m not here for. Not being able to eat anything with scales eliminates so many great meal options.

– I’m never boycotting the magical deliciousness that is Chik-Fil-A. I don’t care who they donate money to. They gave me my first job, and I thoroughly appreciated being able to have Sundays off for church. Not to mention, they have the best chicken nuggets and waffle fries ever. EVER. When that craving calls, I will forever answer.

– I need a name for people who I call friends, who aren’t really friends. People that I connect with on specific levels and nothing else. They are not qualified for overall life involvement, but they’re dope people nonetheless. What do we call these people? I needs to know.

Here’s to the hope that this post will kick-start a steady stream of ideas and words.

I’m Back!!! (And this time, it’s for good)

As I sit here listening to Ab-Soul’s Control System (currently my favorite rap album), I think about how good it feels to be reunited with Michael Bublé. My MacBook. He was terminally ill for quite some time, and I wasn’t not in a position to give him the necessary care. Fortunately, a donation from the Make A MacBook Wish Foundation came in the form of a bonus check from work. The procedure was long and tedious, but Michael is a trooper and recovered in record time.

I’ve missed this. Blogging. I have so much to say!! I’m even going to stick to a schedule….. Errr, attempt to stick to a schedule. How does Tuesdays and Thursdays sound? Good? Great. I don’t really like tumblr, so I’ll be bringing random music musings back over here. I’m excited. You should be too.

Hair ADD: It’s Real and I’m Suffering

I want this cut!!

Hi, my name is Bethany and I have a problem. *lowers eyes* *finds comfort in the monotone “Hi Bethany” from the “group”* I have natural hair ADD.
Every other day I want to change my hair. I don’t even have that much hair on my head!! It all started when I cut my perm off. You know, the Big Chop. Mine wasn’t that big.  I wanted to grow my natural hair out and experiment with every style out there. Then I realized that my hair does not grow at the speed of light, and I began to miss the carefree days of waking up and brushing. No prep. No untwisting. No styling.

No, I want This hair! Now!! Grow hair! GROW!!!

Now that my hair is once again the masterpiece of my barber, I have an urge to grow it all over again. Why? Because of the pictures I see every day. Twitter, Pinterest and blogs like curlynikki.com show these women with glorious coils and curls and their crown. They look amazing! I want that. But I don’t have any hair!!! Why? Because I decided that it would be a great idea to cut it all of again.
To add one more insult to all of my nappy-headed misery, I have decided on a new spring/summer style. I am going to get braids. Yes. Braids. Like these:

You can't tell me that those braids aren't amazeballs.

Why? Because they are dopeness in extension form. If I didn’t have a job with a dress code and strict rules on appearance I would get these:

I would do this in a heartbeat. Eff work *kicks rocks*

The braids will likely be temporary. I’ll keep them until I feel that my ‘fro is at a length worth showing  off to the world. My real challenge will be patience. I have to grow my hair long enough for braids. I already hate this process. I am about to look something like a dusty farm child. This is the phase where I have th hardest time fighting the urge to walk into the closest establishment with clippers.
I bow to stick to it. No cutting my hair. It’s ok if I look a little shabby for a while. I’ll have to turn this into shabby chic. Stay tuned.