When the Beehive stung me.

After writing daily for the month-long alphabet challenge I took a blog-vacay. Mostly because my life felt like a rocky sea and I had too much going on in the every day - and nothing that I really wanted to write about.

So here I am - back again. Hoping my personal waters will be calmer and smoother and I will be writing more frequently.

Thought I would begin again with a story on the light side.

For my cable show last week I taped an older version of a personal story with a new ending. Its a memory that I realized had a nice fit with the other story. Personal stories are like quilts - you just keep adding squares as you run across bits of fabric that match.

Today if you want to hear the first part its on my You Tube Channel - titled Hair Salon or something similar.

For this posting I have edited the recent taping so that its only the new add on-

I still cringe with embarrassment - realizing how naive I was at 28 - and how little I knew about the sophisticated world of NYC. Although we lived in Brooklyn for more than a year when Jim was an intern -  between having an infant, not having any money, and Jim's working LONG hours - we never had chances to enjoy and grow in the experience of living there.

My cousin, now fully New Yorked,  was horrified by the small town hairdo I was wearing and was not about to be seen with me - so she "treated" me to a new hair-do to spare herself that embarrassment. I think she realized I did not "get it" - until years later. By the time I did realize how she had insulted me - I could laugh it off and appreciate the lesson.

In the late 1970s I was working in a job that sent me regularly to NYC where I worked with celebrities and notables. I was glad I could rely on Elizabeth Arden to "turn me out" in a style that fit in.

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