I have 55 mile an hour hair. Every morning I wash my hair, comb it, and let it dry on the way to work, usually in warmer weather being tousled by the wind in the open windows.
Then I forget it for the rest of the day, usually not even combing it unless I think about it.
Nita's got a coarse hair, quite kinky, and we have relaxed it for four or five years now, first having it done professionally by my friend Lisa, and then by me or another friend. Let's just say that Nita's hair has been a real learning experience for me--I find the work required to be irritating, plus she is tender-headed, so she shrieks whenever I try to do anything. We managed to keep it longer, but it broke off at the place where Lisa stopped and I started working on it, and it required an inordinate amount of work to maintain, which was complicated by Nita's delusion that she had straight, fine, blonde hair which didn't require special attention. Last night, I cut the dead ends off, and after some discussion with Nita, trimmed off ends so it was even with the breakage point.
It looked really awful, so today I took her to the beauty shop. An hour with the clippers later, Nita now has a short, natural Afro, about an inch and a half long. Of course, since she is slender and leggy, people think she is a boy--never mind the budding body, floral tee shirt, and pink head bands I got her.
So now Nita announced that she is bald and is not going to school until her hair grows out in four or five years.