Personality Piece

If we had known it would become addictive, I don't think any of us would have willingly subjected ourselves to it. There are so many varieties, so many options...pick your poison. The euphoria, the endorphins released from its sheer presence in our lives transforms any mundane day or night into our personal sold out arena performance. Got a date ? Gotta get some of it. Going on vacation ? Oh, you seriously need some. Bored with your life and need to shake things up? Get some of this and you will be straight. The street is your runway and the venue, any venue, is your personal domain.

Weave....PERIOD.

It is more addictive than any street drug known to man. Not that I have done drugs or anything like that.... but you know what I mean.

I had my first experience with weave on my 29th birthday. I had always had long hair. Thanks to good genes and patience, I always kept my locks long and luscious. However, I decided to grow my perm out at the age of 28 and was "in between" stages when I had my first encounter with this drug affectionately referred to as a "personality piece". My stylist of 10+ years had once refused to put any in my head. Why did I need weave when I had a head full of hair is the rebuttal I always encountered when I would ask for it. But alas, she finally gave in after I came to her with a mini fro and not a nary thing to do with it.

Sitting in her chair, I was extremely nervous. My stylist could not contain herself. "Giiiirrrrllll, you just don't know." "You finna pull you something this weekend with this chile." "How long do you want it ?" These were some of the many statements I listened to as I quietly thought to myself "What have I gotten myself into?"

Once she was finished, my stylist ushered me to a mirror. SHOCK, AWE and TERROR were the first words that came to mind. "CRYSTAL, I LOOK LIKE A STRIPPER!!!... THIS IS TOO MUCH HAIR"... I was instantly hushed with "Uh, uh... you good.. now get out!"

My first stop with hair in tow was Sam's Club. Ahahaha.. YES, Sam's Club. The shopping mecca full of soccer moms and small business owners. I have never in my life had so many Caucasian men staring and flirting and carrying on. My first thought was "Wow, if the white man can't get enough...woooooo...just wait until I get to Atlanta."

I was HOOKED !!!! Weave is my friend....why did no one tell me about this before ??? From that point on, the stigma that once came with having extensions, the embarrassment that had once been attached by ignorant people because you "threw some weave on that ish" was instantly gone. I can't lie... I once judged women who wore weaves. I would ask, "why don't they just wear their hair the way God made it?" I even questioned if women who wore weaves secretly wanted to be something other than who they were. All of my assumptions, questions, judgments were GONE. Weave was my friend.

Since then I have had it sewn in, bonded, half wigs, draw string pony tails.... you name it ... I have had it. Why rock the same old hairstyle day in and day out, when you can attain a different aura, a different persona with your "Personality Piece". The first stop when I visit my hometown is the beauty supply store. I get my weave first, then go about visiting my family and friends. In the greater NYC area, there are beauty supply stores on EVERY corner. I think there are more weave spots than liquor stores in Harlem and Brooklyn...and that says ALOT !!.. or maybe not...but I digress.

The biggest adjustment is with dating while the personality piece is in. I haven't figured out the absolute protocol on dealing with men when my personality pieces are in. Most times I will rock my curly fro, so having my hair stroked is not an issue. Whatsonevah, when my piece is in and my man goes for the stroke....wooooo... head duck. I REFUSE to let a man feel my tracks. Weave low self-esteem ? Maybe... I just don't think he is ready for all of that.

And WHO KNEW the bonding that would come with my girls from being connoisseurs of weave ? Need to find that right piece for that vacation ? ...ask one of THE GIRLS to come assist. Need tracks taken out ?....ask your girl to do it. Extra credit points if you take your weave out at her spot, leave it in her trash can and her man then asks questions about this exorbitant amount of hair in the trash can. Gotta love THE GIRLS....

Ladies, weave is your friend..... bump all of those nay sayers with their judgments and hangups !!

My advice to women across the boards is as follows: If you don't know...now you know....know...

It's Not You...It's Lute !

We all heard the rumors, the giggly innuendos, the secret anticipation. "Chile, when you hit 30, the light bulb comes on...everything you were confused about in your 20's is clear as day when you hit 30... when you turn 30, you put up with less BS, etc., etc." This is all true, and thank you to the numerous friends and family members who spoke such wisdom unto me.

Whatsonevah..... um, no one prepared me for the days when I would be secretly screaming on the inside, reaching out for stuff that wasn't there, deleting numbers out of my phone and/or just handing my phone to my homegirls to avoid calling someone I shouldn't....all because of the Lute !!!

One of The Girls is a doctor. Over several glasses of wine, sitting in our sweats, sorority tee shirts, hair all over our heads, soap operas in the background and other random noise in the house we call the community center, one of our resident doctors explained why we all of sudden, at the age of 30 become horny little beasts. It's that Lucifer "Luteinizing Hormone" that peaks during ovulation making it hard to stand next to any man with a job and who smells good. Wooooooooooo !!!!


According to Wikipedia: (waa..waa..waaaaaa....waa...waa..waa)
In females, at the time of menstruation, FSH initiates follicular growth, specifically affecting granulosa cells.^[5] With the rise in estrogens, LH receptors are also expressed on the maturing follicle that produces an increasing amount of estradiol. Eventually at the time of the maturation of the follicle, the estrogen rise leads via the hypothalamic interface to the “positive feed-back” effect, a release of LH over a 24-48 hour period. This 'LH surge' triggers ovulation hereby not only releasing the egg, but also initiating the conversion of the residual follicle into a corpus luteum that, in turn, produces progesterone to prepare the endometrium for a possible implantation. LH is necessary to maintain luteal function for the first two weeks. In case of a pregnancy luteal function will be further maintained by the action of hCG (a hormone very similar to LH) from the newly established pregnancy. LH supports thecal cells in the ovary that provide androgens and hormonal precursors for estradiol production.

In girlfriends terms, it is this hormone and nothing that comes out that man's mouth (i.e. - game) that causes you to get into some trouble when you swore that man off.... last month, and the month before that... and two weeks before that as well.

Real talk, I had to put myself on birth control pills at 30 years of age. I no longer trusted myself to make educated and responsible decisions because of the havoc that Lucifer Lute was inflicting on my life. One vodka fueled night, drunk dialing and Lucifer Lute in play and yeah...just bad news for everyone ... and we want to avoid all of that. I seriously was sitting in my office one day, at 1:00pm and screamed out loud.."woooooooo...what is going on ???"

Lucifer Lute... you have no room in my life...not right now...but please come back when I finally get a husband. Amen and Amen....

One Of My Boos

I am a grown arse woman....seriously. I once believed that no grown woman should be proud to be called a "Boo". What in the non-committal hell is a "Boo"? A step above a jump-off, but a notch below a girlfriend ? ("lady friend" if you are a woman of a certain age)

A guy I dated about two years ago "blessed" me with the term of being his "Boo". I never said anything against it or spoke on it. I just felt that was his thing, and if he wanted to give me a cute nickname, knock yourself out. I didn't take him serious anyway. He honestly thought he was doing me a favor by calling me his "Boo" and referring to me as his "Boo" to his friends, family and resident knuckle heads.

I had status... I was his "Boo"....

*Eye Roll*

I now see why I have a secret discord against the term "Boo". It's because I have used that term with reckless abandon my damn self, describing one of the several men I was dating casually at that time. Keeping my dating life a secret is my Modus Operandi. Naturally, when one of The Girls asks me, "Hey chica, what are you doing tonight?" Nine times out of Ten I am replying, "Got a date with one of my Boos". A name is never spoken.

Yes, you read it right... ONE ...of several. I am not sure about other women, but if you are a man, and you are referred to as a "Boo".... TRUST, she has several more.

There is the "Fun Boo", the "Serious Boo", the "Baby Boo", the "Finest Dude on Earth Boo"...and they are all disposable. This is sad.

As I grow in 2009, I am putting a moratorium on the term "Boo". It's so youthful, so temporary, so not....a husband.

I blame Alicia Keys, Usher and Ghost town DJs for this Boo shit.

The Girls

I have been entrusted with the blissful responsibility of maintaining a conglomerate of sorts of beautiful, intelligent, fun and focused women in New York and New Jersey. We are doctors, lawyers, consultants, human resource directors, pharmacists, marketing managers, etc....but most of all, we are all single and 30 + years of age. For those who do not live in the Tri-State area, this phenomenon of 11 or so 30 year old professionals running amok in New York City and beyond is totally appealing, exciting and short of a miracle. After sending emailed photos to friends and families across the United States, I always get the same response..."Man, you ladies kick it...I live vicariously through you ladies... I'm officially jealous".

However to us.... it's just our lives.

There are no children to attend to, no husbands to take care of, no elderly family members in the area who we are responsible for. It's just us and we depend on one another. We party (HARD), pray for each other, laugh, share dating stories, fuss, fight, drink and just hang out when the spirit hits us. Our homes have open door policies, we have keys to each other's homes, cars and sometimes even bank accounts.

We have traveled abroad together, danced on couches together, held book club meetings, participated in professional and life coaching, held dinner parties and house warming events for each other. This thing we have here is truly a sisterhood that is deeper than any sorority bond and any professional association. It is a necessity that has been embraced by successful women who, no matter the many letters behind their names, choose to prove most stereotypes of women wrong.... ahaha ... yeah right !!!