Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

This is not going to be one of my usual posts. I want to take a step back from my usual topics and change thing up this time. I want to tell you a little about myself. Some of you that read my posts know me personally; others of you know me through Twitter; and, the rest of you don’t know me at all. What most of you don’t know is that I’ve been growing and locking my hair for the last 4 years; and, they’ve grown pretty long – down to almost the middle of my back. Before I go any further, let me give you a little bit of a back story.

I was born on a tiny Caribbean island named St. Croix. I was raised by very conservative, church-going parents and went to a private school from K through 12. This school and my parents had strict rules regarding hair styles, so I wasn’t allowed to do much with my hair. Whenever they believed it was too long, I was promptly sent to the barber.

After leaving high-school and escaping my overbearing parents, I decided to become creative with my hair. I went through hairstyles ranging from gel twists to puff balls, to cornrows. Finally, during the spring of 2007, I decided that it was time for another avenue of experimentation: Dreadlocks. See, even though my parents didn’t approve of me having anything more that an afro, they still respected the fact that I was an adult now and could do whatever I wanted. They, however, were not at all going to entertain the idea of me having dreads.

Understand that where I grew up having locks was a social stigma that identified you with a certain class of people. Although that thought has changed, my parents are old school and refuse to accept the idea that it is an acceptable hairstyle. This began the war of opinions between me and my parents. In the years following, my parents took every opportunity to convince me to cut my hair. They questioned how people would view me, arguing that it would prevent me from advancing professionally. It was futile. It’s my hair.

Last week I made the decision to cut my hair. I was meditating one day and decided that it was time for a change. It’s been 4 years. I did struggle with the decision, though. Thinking about all the time, effort and money I put into my hair, I was worried that I would miss my hair and regret cutting it. After I actually did it, the regret never came. My decision felt pretty good.

I still haven’t told my parents that I’ve cut my hair; and, I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because I want to hold on to the feeling that I did this for myself without them thinking that I finally caved in to their request. The adventures of my hair and I are sure to continue. I’m not sure what I’m going to do this time. I may leave it short, or I may look for another hairstyle to play around with. Either way, it’s my hair. I have the freedom to do what I want with it.

I’ve embedded a video I made a few months ago chronicling the last 4 years below. Enjoy.



Of Men and Porn

I don’t watch porn. WHOA, WHOA, WHOA! Hang on a sec. I said I don’t WATCH porn. That doesn’t mean I haven’t seen porn.

My first experience with anything pornographic was a sex hotline. Don’t ask me where I got the number from. I couldn’t tell you. What I do remember is running up my mom’s phone bill to $500+, and getting a severe ass-whoopin’ for it. When she asked me why I did it, I remember shrugging my shoulders and saying some to the effect of, “I didn’t know what it was; and, I didn’t know there was a charge for it”. I was in the fifth grade. I was telling the truth, I had no idea what these recorded women were talking about, and why they were talking funny. I just remember it being somewhat interesting and humorous to me to hear these women make funny noises. I’ve never called a sex hotline since.

My next experience came a few years later with the introduction of the Spice Channel to our local cable broadcasting network. I was flipping through channels looking for something to watch. Back then, they weren’t particularly good with blocking out the channels completely. If you flipped past a Pay Per View channel, there would be a brief image of what was on before the channel was blocked out. As I clicked by the Spice Channel, I caught a glimpse of what looked like a naked woman. Intrigued, I turned back to the channel. Yup, there was no mistake. That was a full-fledged naked chick. I was older then and hormones had started taking over, but having to flip back and forth between the channels seemed like too much work, so I lost interest. I had no idea what was going on from these distorted images, anyway.

One day at college in between classes, a few of my friends were having a discussion about porn. When I chimed in, telling them that I’d never actually watched a porno, they all looked at me with disbelief. After convincing them, a girl decided she would let me borrow one from her collection. I was so excited. The next day she arrived with the video tape (yeah it was pretty old). After classes I rushed home, knowing I would have privacy. I got home and, nervously, popped the tape in the VCR. I didn’t know exactly what to expect. It started with an African-American woman at a gym. Two guys showed up to help her with her workout. Then, the cheesy music started, the guys took their pants off, and, well, the rest is history. Ten minutes into it, I began to lose interest. This was actually kind of boring. It was arousing at first, but then everything started to become so mundane and repetitive. Some of it didn’t even seem believable to me. Any porn I’d seen afterwards showed the same thing: a thrown together story line that inevitably leads to sex, starting and ending the same way almost every time. I was disappointed. All these years and this is what the fuss was about?

So like I said at the beginning of this post, I don’t watch porn. It really doesn’t hold my interest. Do I see anything wrong with porn? Well, I think anything can become a problem in excess. I don’t see anything wrong if someone watches it every now and then. In fact, some couples enjoy watching it together; and, I think that’s perfectly acceptable. I would even go as far as saying that they should experiment and make their own homemade sex movies. It could turn out to be a very fun and arousing experience. Most men AND women use it as a visual medium to stimulate themselves during masturbation, which is fine, too. It becomes a problem, though, when it turns into an obsession.

When you’d rather watch porn and pleasure yourself than spend time with your wife or girlfriend, or be a productive member of society, you’ve got problems. I had friends that obsessed over porn. They always knew what was coming out and spent butt-loads of money on it. They would even leave school in the middle of the day to go home and watch porn. That’s when it becomes unhealthy. Not everyone shares my opinion, however. Some believe that porn is a poison, unhealthy in every aspect, arguing for it to be banned and destroyed. To each their own, I guess.

If you would like to share your opinion, I’d be more than happy to hear it.


A Kiss to Remember

A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous. ~Ingrid Bergman

Do you remember your first kiss? I do. For as long as I live I’ll never forget the first time I kissed her. Christal Alexander. The first woman I ever loved.

I was probably 12 or 13 at the time and she was my first official girlfriend. We’d been dating for a few weeks but had never done anything more than hug or hold hands. I was a very awkward boy at the time and since that was my first experience with a girl I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself. School was out for the summer and VBS (Vacation Bible School) was in session. That Friday’s “class” was coming to a close so we ran off to the upstairs balcony of the church to get some privacy before we had to part ways. I don’t remember what we talked about, probably because everything that happened that day was eclipsed by the events that were about to transpire. It came time for us to leave (I suspected my mother was looking for me), and I started down the step. She held on to my hand so I couldn’t take a step further. I turned and looked into her eyes waiting for her to say something but she never did. Instead she pulled me back so that I was on the step just below hers, which brought us to eye level. She released my hand and gently put her arms around my neck and in response I wrapped my arms around her waist. She smiled and slowly moved her face closer to mine. On instinct I did the same. Those seconds that passed, while our lips were coming closer to each other, felt like an eternity. My palms were sweaty and my heart was going a million miles a minute.

In the moment our lips touched, an entirely new world opened up to me. My senses came alive like never before. Time crawled to a stop, or rather we were frozen in that moment while everything else whizzed on around us. My entire body tingled; it was like electricity was surging through it and the only thing keeping me grounded was the fact that her lips were connected to mine. She tasted sweet, like nothing I’d ever had the pleasure of sampling before. It was the most freeing feeling in the world. It felt like I’d become weightless and was floating on a cloud.

And then just like that, the moment (well that particular moment anyway) was over. We parted and went about our separate ways until we would see each other again. For the rest of the day that kiss was all I could think about. I remember getting home and collapsing on my bed and replaying the event in my head, and every time I did this euphoric feeling would just wash over me. I’d get goosebumps (why are they called goosebumps anyway?), float away to cloud nine and I’d be nothing but smiles. In the days following, I’d replay the memory just for the sensation like I was some psychological drug addict. Even thinking about it now, I can still grasp a bit of that feeling from so long ago.

What was your first kiss like?