I've been meaning to write the story of my hair. It has a history of its own now. And my decision to document it is not aneffort to romanticize my natural journey as is trendy to do now, but to use itas an example of a lesson I recently learned and as a motif in my transition toadulthood. My hair regimen used to be a complex process. First stop, the beauty supply. It appears modest from the outside, but onceyou enter the little white door, bell ringing at your arrival, you see hairhung from floor to ceiling. Any type ofhair you could dream of donning: long, straight, wavy, curly, blue, green,yellow, blonde, wigs, tracks, pieces, bangs, ponytails, they're all there. As a regular, the decision doesn't overwhelmme. Routinely, I request "Threepacks of 'Tasha Deep Wave', two of them in a number two and the third, a number2 and 33 mix, please". Intranslation, two packs in deep brown, my "natural" hair color, andthe third pack, deep brown with h...