Walton's Mountain

In May of '92 I graduated from college. The week leading up to the ceremony is known as "senior week" at St. Mike's where I had the good fortune to spend 4 years. During senior week, people sit around 24/7 crying over their beers about the fabulous time they've had, how life will never be the same out in the real world. Which is true. My reaction to all that hype was to make a rash, rash move - 5 days before graduation, I not only cut, but layered and then PERMED my very long, all one length hair.

It was a bold move. Walking into the salon, I felt alive, vibrant, about to tackle "Life after Undergrad" with my new white-girl-Pointer-Sisters-hairdo which I expected to have.

Let's just say that the result was alarming, provoked many, many tears, and when I showed up at my sister's that night, she literally gave me a grocery bag to put on my head. 3 days later, when I finally had come to terms with it, my roommate said "So, let me get this straight, that is the look you were GOING for?" This comment brought on a set-back in my healing process.

I became known that week as Coralee Godsey, from the Walton's. It was a bit scarring.

15 years later, and 2 days ago, in preparation for our jet-set long weekend in Paris, and the celebration of my husband's 30th birthday, I again had my adrenaline running and walked into my salon. "Bangs", I declared to the hairstylist.

3 days later I am still jumping each time I pass a mirror. The nanny gasped when I walked in "My god you look so young!" (we are the same age and she has 3 children the youngest of whom is 8, which puts me in the class of "teenager" compared to her). "Whoa!" said my husband, who continued with "Cool." "Julia Roberts!" said my gay friend. (yeah right). "You needed that" said my Romanian cleaning girl, followed by "now you need blond highlights." (get on with the cleaning, wise-girl). "Can I have another one of your cookies?" said my 16 year old male student, who had nothing to say about my hair. "Oh my god, bangs!" shouted my 18 year old female student before she got across the threshold. But Francois, and the other guys in the bike shop, who saw me 3 times in the morning PRIOR to the cut, and then twice after on the same day, never said anything, as they were too busy laughing at the blow-out in my pants (see previous posting).

Sorry, no photos of the new 'do. Instead, a very short bad quality video, shot thru the fringe of my bangs, thus the poor quality, and I forgot to push a button, hence the infamous clicking. Sorry!