I may or may not have had a corn on my right pinky toe that required me to visit the foot care aisle of the Rite Aid next door to my building. And while I was in there I may or may not have taken this photo of a package of corn pads that advertised that they were designed to fit inside tight shoes. Tight shoes may or may not be the whole problem here.


A Rock and a Bald Place

2015-02-17 23.22.00

“Your hair is so… swoopy.”

That’s what the nice [not black] lady behind the counter at the bookstore said to me last nite. She said it with a smile, so I know it was a compliment; she just didn’t know how to make it compliment all the way…

I cut off most of my hair. Most people who know me know my hair is my thing. But when I was really suffering with my Graves Disease, my hair broke off and fell out like crazy. It happened so quickly; one day I had a head full of healthy, shoulder-length hair, and the next day it looked like I got mugged for it:

“Gimme that ponytail or eat this bullet, lady! Your choice.”

It was traumatic. But I knew I had to let the rest of it go. My medication was adjusted, and along with it, my thyroid hormone levels, so I’m feeling pretty confident that after cutting off all the damage, my hair will rebound. But I am not happy with my current length. I wore a (modest) weave for the Exhale taping; it was the length my real hair had been. But the day after we wrapped, while I was still in LA, I found a braiding shop and had these box braids installed. This isn’t the first time I’ve worn braids, but it is the first time I’ve worn them for longer than two weeks. And you know what, they’re really growing on me. People keep complimenting them, or almost complimenting them (see above), and I’ve always thought natural hairstyles were beautiful. My mom wears a TWA (teeny, weeny afro) and the majority of my girlfriends have moved in that direction. I’ve often thought my natural curl pattern would look great if I allowed it to reveal itself. It’s the “going” natural part, the transition, that’s always seemed daunting. I’m impatient. But this disease has been a constant test of/lesson in patience. For the better part of 2014, I couldn’t stand from sitting without assistance, or walk up a flight of stairs. And now, as I am enjoying the get-up-and-go ease of these braids, and I find myself stuck in between a rock and a bald place, I’m thinking that maybe there’s no time like the present to put to use my newfound life skill.

My mom is not convinced…


So, we’ll see. Maybe this is the beginning of a natural hair journey. Maybe it’s a holding pattern. But I’m not going to make a decision either way anytime soon. Relaxers aren’t going anywhere so no need to rush back to them. And I would love to prove myself and my mom wrong.


Catfish bait


So, you’re gonna blatantly use photos of Lenny Kravitz on your online dating profile? Alright, I’ll play along. I spent half the morning messaging this guy back. Even changed my dating profile pic to Lisa Bonet without explanation.

I hear that all the time? Are you serious, dude?!???

Or are you a comic too, posting on your blog about all the dumb women who fall for your fake profile? Cause if you seriously think you’re gonna find women in America (AMERICAN WOMAN, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD) who don’t recognize this sexy piece of caramel on first sight, you are supremely buggin’. This dude didn’t even remove the watermark from the website he stole one of the photos from. He had to be kidding, right? I talked about this on Facebook and a few friends asked, “what if it really is Lenny?” Which… whatever. Plus, I know that the real Lenny and I would be more than a 20% match; I have it on good authority that we are soul mates.

I have a girlfriend who was real-life “catfished” by a dude she thought she might really like, using photos of MLB star, Matt Kemp. Not being a sports fan, she had no idea until another friend broke the news to her. ‘Twas a sad day. You would think these dishonest losers could just find a hot guy who wasn’t an international superstar or professional athlete to pass themselves off as. Exhale. Idiots. I promised myself that I’d try the online dating thing again in 2015, but I’m admittedly only giving it half of a half-hearted effort. And thus far, my online dating adventures have been good for nothing but jokes. Maybe it gets better. Maybe it just gets funnier.

I hope you’ll stay tuned.