the “down side” of squiggles

If you know me personally, you’ve probably met that crazy, coily, wild and reckless mass of curls and awesome that sits on top of my head. Her name is Squiggles. She earned that name because every single one of her strands coils in some way, either in a lazy, loose wave pattern or a violent and ferocious curl of bad 80′s perm proportions. If you were to pluck a strand from my head, it would instantly be the envy of all kindergartners everywhere, for every strand on my head is an example of the perfect and often enigmatic squiggle. Be jealous five-year-old Jimmy…be jealous.

However, despite how awesome my hair is, there are some nuisances that I have to deal with on a daily basis.

• I shed, a lot. This in and of itself is not the worst thing in the world. But I shed a lot and I have horrible eyesight. So, say there’s a stray hair on the floor, I’m not wearing my super-powered-glasses, and the AC kicks on. The stray hair of doom moves and I’m instantly thrown into a frenzy of panic and worry. It could be a spider, or some other creepy crawler. About thirty seconds later, I’m swatting at something that fell from my head. No, I don’t look ridiculous at all….
• It’s a bit of a paradox, or something. I have about three different textures on my head. The front part of my hair is frizzy, but otherwise tame and more on the straight side. The sides of my hair are I guess what you’d consider typical nappy hair. But the back of my head…can you say the coup de grace of all things nappy and curly? It’s super thick, and there’s a section of my hair where the word “coily” doesn’t even fit. The springy tails from pink pigs salivate in utter envy at how much tension this part of my hair contains. Thus, it’s hard to find a product that works well for all three textures of my hair.
• I’m a little bit limited when it comes to styling. This is more my fault for not being proactive about learning how to do hair. When stretched, my back of my hair grazes my shoulder. So it’s still…relatively short. I could do two-stand twists or a variety of other styles, but those take forever. It also costs a mini-fortune to pay to have it done. Thus why my hair is either always under a beret or in an afro.
• It’s dryer than the Sahara desert. And the Texas weather does not help at all. So I spend a good chunk of my time conditioning it, deep conditioning it, spritzing Infusium 23 over it, praying to the hair gods over it, sacrificing jars of Ultra-Sheen for it, and doing ever other ridiculous thing to keep my hair from drying out. Problem is, you can over-moisturize your hair, and this can cause breakage, which I think I’m experiencing right now. A remedy to this is to add protein treatments to your hair routine (or whatever you’d call what I do to my hair, since I don’t really have a routine.) But so far, any time I’ve tried to do a protein a treatment to my hair, even a mild one, my hair because gross and horrible and brittle. I guess that’s somethng I’ll have to figure out later.

Despite all the “crises” that Squiggles causes me, I still love her. She’s a pretty good representation of my personality; multifaceted and a little out place most of the time.

xoxo

(ETA: Be sure to check out other bloggers who rock awesome natural hair, like Alice and Jessie, and well as info sites like Afrobella, Black Girl with Long Hair, and Leave in the Kinks!!)

my not-so-pointless trip to barnes and noble

I have yet to do my journalism homework…let me explain.

I drove to Barnes and Noble to get out of my apartment and see if I could focus better there. I don’t know, something about looking a like pretentious wannabe writer in a bookstore makes concentrating on homework a lot easier.

Now, I brought my notebook, thinking I could easily find someplace to plug it in. The “mobility” aspect of having a notebook is pretty much lost on me right now, since my batter capacity is only at 25%. It’s partly my fault, since I never powercycled my notebook when I first got it two years ago, but more of the blame goes to HP for making crappy batteries. Thanks guys.

my next notebook will definitely be a sony vaio

Anyway, I could not easily find a place to plug in, and I was left hanging around the magazine section, waiting for someone to leave their spot. The main place I could have plugged in at was occupied by some dude with his Mac. It made me hate Macs even more.

Since I didn’t want to leave my notebook in the hot Texas sun, I just carried it with me like the chubby awkward Black chick geek that I am around the magazine section, where I found the latest issue of Nylon.

I would’ve bought it (with quarters, since I’ve forbade myself from buying anything with my debit card until September 1st) if it didn’t feature some white chick I don’t know without any pants on. (I would just like the say thank you 2009, for making it okay for women to parade without pants. I really appreciate that.)

so, it's not like she's in her underwear, but still. people need to start wearing pants again. this is ridiculous.

In this issue of Nylon is an article about Interpol, one of the few bands I listened to religiously in my freshman year of high school. They’ve returned to their indie roots, and are still rocking on even though one of the bandmates left. I’ll be sure of cop their new album.

Another article focused on how 90′s Nickelodeon paved the way for all these indie blogs and the devotion people have for their favorite, obscure bands.

The writer Rebecca Davis begins by talking about how her parents wouldn’t let her watch MTV as a child, and how she just watched Nickelodeon instead. This little bit of info sets the scene and helps the reader understand why she watched the shows Nickelodeon, rather than on other channels, so fervently. She hits the point of her article as she writes on how shows like The Adventures of Pete and Pete featured various bands for the soundtrack, and how awesometacular folks like Debbie Harry and Iggy Pop would even guest star on the show.

She also mentioned Doug, and how important the fictional band The Beets were.

Ooo-wee-ooo...KILLER TOFUUUUUUU!!!

Even All That, which featured more mainstream artist, feature them while they were fresh and up and coming. If you watched All That, you often caught a glimpse of an artist just before the burst onto the scene. Seven and eight-year-olds became insiders to finding out the hottest acts yet to be embraced by the mainstream. (slight exaggeration)

Rebecca’s article resonated with me strongly, I felt like I could’ve written it. Well, a crappier, non-Nylon worthy version of the article anyway. While other kids were watching the Disney channel and other bubblegum ridiculousness, Nickelodeon kids were watching the goofy cartoons that touched your heart, the live-action shows that were smart and funny, and simultaneously discovering this thing called good music.

Now, time to finally do my journalism homework….

xoxo

embracing the old

So, I could say I have a bit of a reason to be so lax with my posting, even after my over-dramatic entry explaining why I felt so bad for not being a better blogger. Moving into an apartment and starting school can definitely put things on hold. But, I’m me, and as with all other things in my life that I try to be ambitious with, laziness will always have to be a battle I fight.

So…sorry again Cavalier Flair.

If it’s any consolation I should be able to pay for a domain and start using the hosting space I had to buy for school again, which should motivate me to post more often. So, there is hope.

Moving on, I did say that I have moved into a new apartment. Well, it’s new to me.

I originally wanted to move into a place more modern that where I’m living now. And as I realized that my space is kind of dated, I got a little miffed. If everything had worked out the way I wanted it much earlier in the year, I could have had everything I thought I wanted.

But, tomorrow will be my second week living here, and I’ve grown to love it (Honesty, what choice do I have, I’m stuck here for a year, but I digress)

My apartment reminds me of my aunt’s house. It’s the small stuff that’s familiar to me and fills me with happiness. Stuff like the textured ceiling, the doorknobs, the design of the single light in the kitchen, and even the shower/bathtub with the rather high edge.

But it’s the outside of the apartment that I’ve grown to love too. The complex is smaller than the place I originally wanted to live in, much smaller. And the trend for smaller complexes in my city, from what I’ve seen, is that they aren’t as well maintained as the bigger, newer ones. That’s not the case with where I state at. There’s green grass and vibrant flowers to enjoy, and two small stone tables to sit at and relax. It’s a more intimate setting than you would find at the larger complexes, and I totally love that.

This isn’t on topic with the feel of this apartment, but I like that I can hear the cars driving by, or people talking and playing music. Some people might find all of that noise a nuisance, but I enjoy it; it’s a reminder that the city is alive and well.

I don’t quite know the point of writing this post… I guess to just state that acknowledging and appreciating things with an old style in a culture that craves the newest, latest, sexiest item or idea, is rewarding.

Now, the only thing I need to work on is getting a job so I can have money to actually decorate the place. Sigh.

xoxo

awesome stuff i just needed on my blog

This,

and this.

That is all.

the story of a blogger

(or: about 765 words of gross self-indulgence)

at least my real friends care about me

Dear Cavalier Flair:

I’m so sorry. I started this blog last October, with some pretty different intentions than what I have now.

My darling, my darling, my life and my bride. I am sorry and utterly repentant of neglecting you. I have owned this slice of cyberspace for a few months short of a year now, and I have not given you the proper attention and stimulation a blog deserves. Cavalier Flair, I hope beyond hope that you can forgive me.

I had the best intentions of being a dutiful and passionate writer for you this summer. But I succumbed to the laziness that inevitably strikes even the best of us when we realize we have three months to do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. I know this is not an excuse, and that my apology will only be valid with actions that show my change of heart.

I have said over and over and over again that I would write more, and actually pay attention to this precious slice of cyberspace. And time and time again, I have failed on an awesome level.

So, again I must say, I truly apologize, and I fully acknowledge that I deserve any opprobrium I might receive from you.

Cavalier Flair, in the hands of another, you would be pampered and loved, cherished and doted on. But in my hands, you are neglected and starved. And yet you stay by me. You are the definition of a trooper. When rappers spit details of their “ride or die” chick, my mind wanders to you and your unwavering dedication to me. And for that, I will always be grateful.

In these last few, sweet weeks of summer, I will dedicate myself you, and show myself worthy of the title, “blogger”. If, and only if, you will give me that chance.

With much respect and contrition,
Crissa

——–

The letter above comes from serious place from inside me. As over the top as it is, I really do feel bad about not being a “better blogger.”

Like I said before, I’ve had this blog since October. And it has had no real direction since the beginning. I initially started it to write about situations I went through that dealt with my faith. I’ve touched on that, but that isn’t what I want to fully dedicate Cavalier Flair to.

As I started reading fashion, hair and makeup blogs, I wanted to write about those topics as well. But it’s not all I wanted to write about. I didn’t want to have just another fashion/hair/makeup blog.

Subsequently, I have a lot of ideas and drafts backed up, but what you’ll see when you browse Cavalier Flair is pretty much a bunch of filler posts.

It honestly causes me a bit of stress. And it’s made me realize…blogging, as I knew it, has changed.

When I started “blogging”, I was thirteen, and I just wanted an outlet without worrying if someone I knew would see it. First I wrote at Diary-x and Diary-land. Then Xanga, LiveJournal, even this place called “HateLife”. :-/

I made my official teenage online journal dojo at Xanga.

before the hipster paradise of tumblr, there was xanga

And I wrote about whatever. I really wouldn’t call what I did then “blogging”. Just typing on an online journal. A space for me to rant about my first world problems, abuse the English language like I was related to Ike Turner and add a devastating amount of “zzzzz’s” to my words.

But, I grew out of that. Middle school was over, and social networking soon dominated my life, for better or worse.

But, as I have grown more serious about writing, I’ve returned to blogging, and realized that more people start out blogs dealing with a specific topic. And if people do blog about life in general, then, more often than not, it’s kind of boring.

I want to go back to blogging about “whatever.” To spewing word vomit about all of my life, and just certain aspects of it, and to do it in at least a mildly entertaining way.

I may have been self-absorbed and immature during my time at Xanga, but damn it, I had a voice. And that’s the thing that’s kept me from writing, not just on here, but just writing period. I stopped honing my voice, and it became this lame whisper of mediocrity and fail. But, I’m working on that. It may take a while, but trust, I am working on that.

I guess in short, I’m saying that I’m reverting to being 14-year-old Crissa.

God help us all.

my own set of rules for life

I often read, and love, lists like this.

They’re little reminders to not take life too seriously, to just make the most of it.

So, I’m making my own set of rules to remember.

Sure, most of these have probably been said, in a more articulate and graceful fashion.

But…I’m doing it anyway.

1. Take your camera everywhere. Take plenty of pictures.
2. Enjoy your food.
3. Tip generously.
4. You are not alone in anything.
5. Either buy one kind of sock for the rest of your life, or resign yourself to wear mismatch socks. The former is more practical, the latter more fun. I say go with the fun option.
6. Travel. No excuses.
7. I had another thing I wanted to write, but I forgot it.
8. Write every idea down, no matter how lame you think it is.
9. Read a lot.
10. Enjoy, and respect, nature.

More to come, of course.

journalistic ambitions

I don’t know how definite it will be that I will get in internship this school year.

Fortunately, with the internet, there are a bunch of places I can write articles for, and maybe build an e-portfolio of sorts.

• Collide Magazine
• Chick Talk Magazine
• Frequency Magazine
• The Fresh Express

Let the incessant typing and staring at screen while NOT being on Facebook or Tumblr begin!