I Am Not My Hair pt.1

India Arie, Testimony: Vol 1 Life & Relationship. It's a great album, truly. I very rarely listen to the actual words of a song, mainly because they're all the same and sometimes because I get distracted by all the hoopla. But not with this, no, I Am Not My Hair made perfect sense, it was clear, she was clear. I even like Akon on it and I DON'T LIKE AKON; it's nothing personal, I just dislike his voice. She describes the numerous processes her hair went through, all because society decided that afro hair wasn't attractive. She starts off with a presser curl, then a Jheri Curl and finally a relaxer before her hair breaks off. Not a pretty sight, trust me. There's nothing worse than the day you realise that there's a whole chunk of your hair missing all because you liked you hairband a bit too much.

Having lived with an afro all my life because I'm black (applause), I know that there are just some things you can't do to it. It may look tough because it's so bushy but it's actually very brittle. DON'T put too much heat into it, DON'T apply more than one chemical process to it at a time and DO condition like your life depended on it.

Each generation has their own schtick, we don't know when my grandmother was born because for Ghanaians, in those days, there wasn't a need to know. I suspect they were busy trying to live past the age if 5. When we went back for her funeral I saw some pictures of her in her hay-day, she had thick, lush hair and because she was having a special picture taken she wore her hair straight. I asked my mum about it and she said that she had pressed her hair with one of those old school hot combs, probably the ones that you have to heat on the stove, then she curled it with metal rollers.

My mother was born in the late 40's. I found some baby pictures of her when we went to the funeral too, but she didn't think much of her hair back then. She remarked about how tough her hair was (has always been) and how her scalp was chronically sore for one reason or the other. By her late teens she'd started relaxing it because it was an easier way of maintain the highly sort after straight hair. She had few hairstyles in the coming decades, but they revolved around faux afro wigs like the lady in the black and white photo.

She started braiding my hair for me in '95 when my sister and I first came to live with her in England. I had a boys hair cut back then. A 1cm long No.1 haircut, because in Ghana, school girls have boy's hair cuts. Don't ask me why, it's one of those unanswered questions, like why Mariah Carey decided to get a boob job. I think I first relaxed my hair the summer before Sixth Form (College), I was tired of walking around with my afro hair. I didn't know what to do with it and I stood out, mainly because of the way I wore it but partly because I was the only student in my year group that had afro hair that long.

For those who don't know, a relaxer is a chemical treatment used to straighten obstinately curly hair. The first time at the salon was an eye-opener, the hairstylist distributed the relaxer from the root right to the ends because my hair was all afro (virgin hair). I think she took about 15 minutes to get the relaxer in, I don't know the right amount of time but I know now that it's best not to dilly-dally. I hadn't washed my hair for 2 weeks in anticipation; that's not as abnormal as it may seem, not washing afro hair for that long I mean. It began to tingle as soon as she was done applying the relaxer. Several minutes passed and that tingle started to spread enough that it become an itch I wanted to scratch, desperately. I resisted the urge because the hairstylist used gloves as she applied the relaxer and I'll be damned if I was gonna stick my, unprotected, hand in my itchy head. While I was busy thinking about not scratching, the itch started to burn ever so slightly. And then it grew, the burn I mean. It brought heat on top of heat. It spread like a wildfire on my scalp, increase in coverage and intensity simultaneously. It burned like hell.

Learn Japanese, it's Easy

NO. It is bloody-well not easy. It's hard to keep motivated because even when you don't have a job and you've been kicked out of school (temporarily), you can get easily detracted. i.e. We just got the Food Network over here in England, and TV in general's kinda crap so my sister put it on the Food Network just so it's not too quiet. We're watching Grill It! with Bobby Flay: Chef Extraordinaire or so he thinks. Why is he so obsessed with chillis? Even though I don't care for food adorned with cilantro, it's still better the taking those two steps to my Japan Centre Kanji Book. I'm rambling aren't I?

p.s. Why do all American cooking shows revolve around a 'battle of culinary masters'? Ever heard of Rick Stein?

Bikram Yoga... Break my back more like

So, I started Bikram Yoga. They were doing a New Year's deal because everyone's put on some pounds since the holidays and made all those crapy resolutions. It was a 20 quid for 14 days thing, which is pretty worth it considering a drop-in session cost 15 pounds alone. I went with my sister to to one of they're many sites in London to register and feel out the place. Bikram yoga is no more strenuous than Ashtanga yoga, which is what I normally do, except you don't have some guy telling you to relax your anus, ^_^. The postures are different and in the 40 degree celsius heat it's particularly hard; not only are you stretching and tensing all the muscles in your body, you're also trying to do it all while breathing through your nose AND sucking your stomach in. You go in looking like this...

...but you come out feeling like this, lol.

You sweat bucket loads even if your technique isn't that good.

The picture says it all.

My year in exile's taking it's toll on me. I just went to the job centre, I despise the job centre. I really do. They give me 50 quid a week, but it's not like I need it, I'm luckier than most because I have a lovely mother. I only go because I don't want to burden her too much. But... it's taking it's toll on me. I feel like I'm ready to go but... I'm stuck. And frustrated... and I can't breathe. Today's not so good.

Ice Age... that's what they tell me

We had some bad weather after Christmas. Seeing as I'm a bit of a recluse I didn't notice. They were droning on and on about it on BBC and SKY though. There were stories, lots of stories about the injuries and disruptions associated with the snow. Stories about the villages cut off, but surprisingly none about the abundance of the supposedly scarce grit on Oxford Circus and the Kensington area. We can't have the rich slipping and spraining an ankle or worse yet cracking a skull. Oh no, the working class, without which the city would not run, would fair better doing the slip-slide all the way to work... in the city.

Personally, the funniest moment for me was when they realised that public transport would be shittier than usual as a result. This from a city who's trains can't function during Autumn because of leaves on the tracks. Oh yes, London's that far ahead. London's the city of the future, didn't you know? There's always this crap about attracting international businesses to London because it's this and it's that. Well I'm here to tell you that it's overpriced... normally you'd have more than one critique of whatever you're hating on, but for me this is it. It's overpriced. It's bollocks. And it's on it's way to worse, why? Because the recession hurt the UK more than the US, because the US manufacture and there's always gonna be a demand and because our un-elected Prime Minister is a ditherer. James Brown (the name he keeps secret from anyone with a sense of humour) can't make decisions, so why is he in politics? I don't know either.

My whole point is forget about the snow, there's a huge economic storm to weather and we (in London) are gonna feel it in full force after the 2012 Olympics. Maybe that's why I'm so eager to get out of here.

Q. Does anyone like the Logo?

The World of Suzie Wong

Suzie Wong was a proactive, savvy girl, but most importantly she was stylish. Personally, I think it's hard not to find a stylish women in the 1950's. Don't get me wrong, I very much appreciate and admire modern fashion, but it can never match the effortless glamour of the decades past.

The plot is pretty simple, architect Robert Lomax (William Holden) wants to be an artist so he moves to Hong Kong to see if he can make it. On route he meets Mee Ling aka Suzie Wong (Nancy Kwan) who unsuccessfully tries to have him arrested for stealing her purse. They go their seperate ways. Lomax has limited funds so he looks for lodgings at Wan Chai district where he stumbles across his accuser coming out of a hotel. Lomax goes into the hotel and rents a room for one month. This comes as a shock to the landlord; his rooms are only rented for a couple of hours at a time. Yes, you've guessed right, Suzie's a prostitute. Lomax asks Suzie to pose for him and they strike up a romance in the process. They fight, they laugh, all the things never absent from a love affair. There's more but that would be spoiling it for you.

It's a great oldie to watch when you have some time free.

Ol' Mag

The name of my new blog theme Old Magazine by Blogger Themes, I love it 0_0. I'm a bit bored... I should stop talking/writing now.

p.s. why doesn't Apple ever go into sale???