Reunited and it feels so GOOD!

I knew that I would see him again, but just not this soon. It seemed like it had been an eternity since we were last united, since I’d last felt his magical touch. I woke up that morning eagerly anticipating our eventual meeting later in the evening, and I busied myself to pass the time that stretched long and impatient as the sun made its trek from east to west. I made a minor fuss over what I should wear…. It had to be the right combination of comfort and style. I didn’t want to be too done up, yet I also did not want to be too casual, and an abundance of make-up was pointless because I always left with it smudged and streaked from heat and moisture. Finally the time had arrived. The drive seemed like 100 miles, 30 minutes seemed like 3 hours. I could hardly contain my excitement and anticipation as I made the trek up to Broadripple. I arrived at my destination and pulled up to the building; fortune smiled upon me as I found a space right up front. This was the moment I’d been longing after for months, but had prepared to wait for years. I walked up to the door and gingerly pushed it open. At first I looked around and didn’t see him, although I knew I was at the right place. Someone saw my look of confusion and directed me toward the back of the building. I walked around the corner and heard his familiar voice, so I quickened my step and hurried further into the building…… and there he was. After months of forced separation, we were reunited again. Time melted away and it seemed like nothing had been missed. We greeted each other and embraced briefly, but it was the embrace of someone who has been lost and now has been rescued. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. He sat me down and looked me over, asking me who had been taking care of me over the past several months. I told him I'd seen one person, but that it just wasn’t the same; nobody knows me as well, nobody has his skill and passion. After I had few drinks he started doing what he does best. Relief flooded over me as I felt the worries drop away one by one. Then came the moment I’d been dreaming about…. His touch was both gentle and firm, and it took everything I had not to audibly moan with pleasure. He worked his hands around, rubbing and kneading all the time and stress and cares away. Rub….. Lather….. Rinse….. Repeat…….........................................

Ok, y’all dirty MFs…. I’m talking about my beloved loctician! I’ve got him back!! As you may (not) recall, last November/December Karma gave me a swift kick in the arse and deprived me of one of the few things that has been a constant in my life for the past 8 years..... and that is my hair stylist (or more accurately, my loctician, because he only does locs).

(If you don't remember what happened, it's best to do some mandatory background reading: Please, Karma,Not my hair And the follow up: In Her Shoes Done? Ok, proceed.....)

I promised that the story would be continued..... so here it is. The shop where my loctician moved to, and the one which I was not allowed to patronize for, uh, "personal reasons", closed is relocating. I'd heard a rumor that the shop would be moving, and knowing my loctician like I do, I knew that the odds of him moving with them were just about nil unless they were staying in the same area (unlikely because the whole area is prime retail space), but I still wasn't going to get my hopes up too high. Sure enough, he gets a notice at the end of last month saying that the location was closing in 2 weeks. (*Pause* Two weeks notice to GTFO?? For real??? Yea, he was NOT happy.) On the one hand, I was uber ecstatic that my time in hair purgatory only lasted 5 months (I was bracing myself for YEARS of exile), but on the other hand I refrained from instantly bombarding him with e-mails begging to be the FIRST client at his new location because I know how much he hates upheaval, let alone upheaval that has to be done in such a short period of time. So I respected his time and space, sent him a few encouraging words, but as soon as I found out he landed a new spot, I was on it.

Take out all the sexual undertones to my monologue above and that pretty much sums up what happened (I was going to add that one of my friends who is also one of his clients happened to be in there as well, but I thought the allusion to a menage would be a little much). He shaped up my poor raggedy locs and gave me the best shampooing of my life. He told me to hold off on color and that we'd tackle that next time (I was waiting on him to bop me over the head with a bottle of hair oil for coloring it myself, but I think he understood my plight). It was so nice to be back in the chair I'd been in for the past 8 years, through almost my entire natural hair journey, having done numerous hair shows and photo shoots for him. I don't even have to tell him what I want.... I just trust him to do what he does best, knowing that he knows me well enough to give me what I want. I was so happy that I told him to go ahead and do me up and updo. And just so you can get a GLIMPSE into this man's skill, here's the end result:

And this (hopefully) concludes this particular adventure......All's well that ends well I guess (well, for me anyway). Thank you, Karma, for sparing me of years of deprivation. You can keep that rusty fork to yourself, my dear.

Fin.

(Oh, and check out Thierry Baptiste's amazing work.... he is truly a revolutionary in the natural hair and loc world. You haven't seen locs til you see Theirry's work.)

Please, Karma, not my hair.....

If there is one lesson I have learned in the last year and a half of my adventures in divorce, it is this: Karma is a hellafide bitch. And just when you think she's done with you, here she comes from around the corner again with her rusty fork to jab you in the arse a few more times. Karma doesn't just come at you in the direct, obvious forms.... oh no, she's much craftier than that. Like the obvious consequence of my... uh.... indiscretions wasn't just my dramatical divorce, my emotional break down, and the major upheaval of my life in general. Oh no.... she keeps coming at me in new and exciting ways that I'd never imagined! And the newest incarnation of Karma's wrath is to fuck with........

.......My Hair.

Yes, loved ones, Karma has made it such that my hair stylist of 8 years may no longer accessible to me. The only man I have ever felt 100% comfortable doing my hair, both before and after I started my locs. The man who is THE MAN when it comes to locs. The man responsible for folks coming up to me saying "Hey, you look really familiar" because I used to do modeling for him and was all over his marketing materials and business cards. The man whom I can go to, sit in his chair, say "I'm not really sure what I want" and he gives me exactly what I want. The man responsible for doing my hair and photos featured in this video.

I know this seems really odd and random, but it's directly related to my.... uh.... indiscretions. Recently my loctician changed shops.... he was previously at an otherwise all white salon and was the only black stylist in the shop. He had his own private room, nice and spacious, where we could chat and listen to music and carry on as we do. So last month he moved to an all black salon that specializes in natural hair. I actually had my son's locs started there and had been there at least once myself. So what's the problem, you ask? Well, a few years ago the shop changed ownership, and is now owned by...... can you guess? *waits 5 seconds for you to guess* That's right, my.... uh..... "co-conspirator's" wife. *long Napoleonic Dynamite sigh* Needless to say, she told my loctician that I am banned from coming into the shop. My stylist said he was going to talk to her about it (because I am his client, not the shop's, and I've been his client for 8 years, and he said he really didn't give a flying fig what went on in other people's personal lives, and it was all just business), but as of yet, I haven't heard back from him, which means I can only assume that this is still a yet unresolved issue between him and "management".

Now, I understand that I we did a bad thing. I know this. And I know people were hurt by it. And I've paid for it 10 times over (thus the reason this blog is even in existence). But all I want is to be able to go to my hair stylist. Period. That's it. This is not a situation where I'm trying to get into her shop just to fuck with her.... I don't want to see her any more than she wants to see me. I have MAD HISTORY with my hair stylist so it has nothing to do with her, her husband, or her shop. I tell people all the time that my loctician (and also my nail tech) could set up shop in a crack house and I would be there kicking glass pipes aside to sit in his chair. And I'm sure 99% of his other clients feel the same way.

(*Sick and ironic side note: The building where the salon is located is also the building in which I got married in 1999. It used to be a wedding chapel until there was a fire in the building, which someone else bought and turned into a hair salon. I stood right on the bricks in front of the picture window in the front and said my "I do's" almost 10 years ago. Fate is a cruel and evil bitch sometimes, too.)

I can understand that she hates my guts and wishes for the cessation of my very existence doesn't like me. But dammit, this is business. Personally, nothing would please me more than to take the hard earned money of my arch nemesis. But perhaps being the top undergraduate business student in my class and being an overly analytical lawyer has my brain wired differently. I dunno. She works a 9 to 5, so I know there are plenty of times when she's not there when I could come in for 2 hours, 3 or 4 times a year and get my hair done and be on about my merry way. Like my BFF in London says, it's not like I'm asking to come to their house for tea and crumpets. And perhaps I could accept and understand this a little better if not for the fact that just a few months ago she was sending me e-mail invites to events at her shop (which I politely declined) and sending me (and directly to me personally.... not a mass distribution) natural hair surveys asking that I forward them on to my network (which I politely did). Which then raises the question..... who is really being petty, and who is trying to fuck with who here?? Even throughout all this mess, all this drama, I've always respected her business and have had nothing but positive things to say about her shop. Whenever people ask me for referrals for non-loc natural hair services, I ALWAYS refer them to that shop. I have a greater purpose in mind, and that is to encourage black women to embrace their natural hair, and part of that is having access to people who can help them with that, regardless of my personal history or feelings with anyone. *refrains from fully stepping onto natural hair soap box*

So, because it's come down to the last minute and I really need to get my hair done for my beau's company holiday dinner on Thursday, I went ahead and sucked it up and called my loctician's former assistant/apprentice who is still doing locs at their prior location (she stayed behind and is doing her own thing). I'm hoping that this isn't a permanent switch for me (though I am fully confident in her abilities as a stylist and have heard good things about her) but rather a temporary fix to get me over this hump while I resolve these issues with my loctician. I don't want to have to take my business elsewhere over all this, because I really don't think it's necessary, but if I have to I guess I will..... and all my other friends' and associates' business with me. But I will always and forever give my loctician credit as being the baddest loc artist on BOTH sides of the Mississippi, and on either side of the Pond as well, and none of this mess will affect my respect and admiration of him as an artist and business professional.


(I could be a helluva lot more malicious and petty in reaction to this right about now..... because really I am still VERY upset about the situation for a number of reasons I'm not going to go into here and now, and I AM still a female (and you know how the saying goes, "Hell hath no fury........"). But for now, I'm going to be the bigger person, as I really try to be, even when it is to my detriment and I have no reason to be but for the sake of principle. We'll see how this unfolds, though..... we shall see, loved ones.)

To be continued......