I HATE MY HAIR

Theres a documentary by some black guy Chris Rock called Bad Hair its basically about the evolution of the black women and the lengths and costs they go through to get managable pretty hair. It follows a few famous divas, as well as your local neighborhood hoodrat and examines the day to day struggle these women go through trying to achieve what the white woman apparently was born and blessed with.
FUCK YOU CHRIS ROCK
Okay so Im not "white" persay . . . but my moms as irish/scottish/annoying as they come and she was blessed with an amazing set of stick straight auburn perfectly balanced thick and managable locks. My father, a smooth blend of spanish and mexi has a solid black* perfectly coifed (on a good day) could be an elvis wig head of hair.
Im short - like my mom
im tan - like my dad
im annoying- like my mom
im chatty- like my dad
im addicted to love- like my mom
i flirt too much- like my dad
Im a valley girl-MUCH like my mom
i think im cooler than i am- ALMOST as much as my dad
MY HAIR?- a corpse?
where in gods name did my genetics get so screwed up. There are times i look in the mirror and i shed a small tear at the face in the mirror. cause it aint mine, its my mothers. but then I glance 3 inches above my eyes, and I stare, and i stare, and i shed ten more tears. what the fuck is wrong with my hair?!
When I was younger, it was cute, kind of wavy, a beautiful brown that lightened in the summer as my skin leathered by the age of 6 (apparently sunscreen was new to the baby boomers) I had a thick set of bangs, could wear slicked back ponies with out looking Kareem Abdul Jabaar. I really had it made
Flash forward 20 something years, 15 perms, 300 sets of highlights, 2 irons, like actualy irons, 80 bottles of sun in, and few stints of goth. And Im left with the most fragile, sad, split to high hell, hair. . . .
I guess i deserve it. I blame myself, and my mother. Lord knows I didnt have the budget for a perm and highlight at 11 but she did. and oh did she ever. so here i am.
If you dared to run your fingers through my hair at this moment. I would first lay you out with my right hook, but not before you felt a hundred grains of rice in your grip.
Because, just like the black ladies of Bad Hair. I too go through all ends to be pretty. I have also spent one weeks pay to feel like a girl. And I too, will NOT get my hair wet on any occasion unless theres a body of water between me and weave comb.
So it is what it is. Like a fat girl who knows she must ALWAYS wear flowy tops. I will always have an extension or two, up in my head.