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There's Something About Mary

 

There's something about Mary! I'm not talking about the movie, I'm talking about my editor. Everyone should have a Mary. The first time we met I was standing on the other side of the chair, looking at her reflection in the mirror. I just love the way writers look. I can always pick them out. Their sense of style is very French. "Before you leave the house look in the mirror and take one thing off." Thank you, Coco Chanel, and where were you when I was 20?

 

Beyond that, writers have a cool factor in their personality, confident and smart. I write my blog and send it to her each week before I post it. I get so excited about the weekly reply I receive. It's like a seven year old getting told they can have a waffle cone with their ice cream. It's been a dream of mine to write a book. I asked Mary if she could help me, and to my surprise she said yes!

 

We sat across from each other at Highland Coffee. Eye to eye with no filter of the mirror. Together we talked about my blog and all the different funny things I could write about that started with the letter M. The options are endless with a pun around every corner. I expressed an idea I have for my first book, a memoir about searching for myself, finding mediumship, and how it is to follow wrong intuition (that's where the book gets juicy and interesting: love, deceit, and the truth about what my ex did for a living!) Mary looked very intrigued and guided me about where to start.

 

The conversation came full circle and back to the Mirror. You see, I have an inside advantage being a hairdresser to go straight to the heart of my client, and in my own mind I also get paid to tell the truth.

 

One of my clients this week was telling me about a vacation she is planning for her family. She said that for two weeks, four people, and Hawaii, she was only paying $6,500.00. I told her good job—I thought it was pretty cheap for a two- week vacay in Hawaii. Her response was, "It was a God thing," and my response was, "No that's not a God thing. That's you being one thrifty woman!" She’d have died if I’d called her a thrifty bitch like I wanted.

 

I was also inspired by a very young widow, only in her early 30s... We jumped straight into it. She looked at me through the mirror and asked if I had heard about her husband. I had, only a couple days prior to her appointment, and I thought I was prepared for the conversation. Then I found myself taken aback by the lightness in her way of being. We were cracking up laughing at realization of the silver lining of her husband’s death: she didn't have to go to her sister-in-law’s baby shower.

 

My mother recently sat in my chair telling me about a guy at work teasing her. Carla (my mother) has been in a relationship for about a year and a half. The attractive younger guy at work asked her if her boyfriend lives with her. She said no, but he stays over on the weekends.  The coworker in his response used phrases such as "friends with benefits" and "shacking up." At this point in the story I almost spit out my coffee from laughing. (It may be the kind of thing that happens more readily when the mother is sitting down and the daughter is standing up, and they’re each giving the other the eye in the mirror.) I guess this bride won't be wearing white! You'll always be a saint in my eyes, mother.

 

The magic mirror I look into every day shows true beauty only. Yes I make your hair look pretty. The real job on the other side of the chair is, little by little, chiseling away the marble, the wall, so the real you shines free. I felt a sense of gratitude just in this moment thinking about my life's work. If I had a magic wand I would use it to enlighten everyone to her own perfection.

  


 

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