i just can't imagine who she gets it from!

the man with the perfect moustache. (final word)

about six years ago dave went thru this phase where he was doing everyone's hair. he had highlighted his friend chuck's hair and was almost giddy from the experience. "lyza jane, you have to let me do your hair. i think it would be great with highlights." up until this point in my life i had never colored my hair...i had always had the mousy brown hair with the natural highlights in the summer. i was ok with mousy brown, it suited me, and it had always been healthy strong shiny fine beautiful hair.

weeks went by and i had all but forgotten about the conversation. "so when are you going to let me highlight your hair?" dave asked me one day out of nowhere. ummm, never. at least that's what i had thought. but he worked me from different angles, he called esta' in seattle to get her on board with the idea and also enlisted our mutual friend anne. and as strange as this may sound, dave was the kind of person that you had a hard time NOT trusting. needless to say it didn't take long.

and so the next thing you know i'm sitting in dave's bathroom with a skullcap on and many many tiny pieces of my hair sticking thru the holes in said skullcap. did i mention the many many? deep breath, on goes the color lifter, breath out, color gone from the hair that had been pulled thru the many many holes, and rinse.

i must have had a funny look on my face as i left dave's place because he kept asking, "are you sure you like it? it looks great honey. i swear it looks great. are you sure you're alright?" ummm, no. i don't know, maybe the shirt i was wearing that night just wasn't a flattering color for a blonde...how would i have known if i'd never been one before. the thing is, i wasn't supposed to be a blonde...just some highlights, that what he had said, right? the truth is, i hated it! it was horrible. and this is coming from a woman who now willingly submits to the occasional chemically induced highlight.

dave called the next morning, "sweetie are you ok? i'm concerned that you hate it." my reply being something in the vein of, "dave, i feel like a ho." (yes that was the exact word i used.) "a ho dave, i feel like a ho. and that is not a good thing." i went back over to dave's that day and we dyed my hair back to it's regular shade of mousy brown. the whole process fried my hair and took a good two years for the damage to grow out. but whenever i think about those two days, those two days out of many that i spent with him, i smile and i laugh. so that's the one i'm going to share today.

dave died on february 18, 2007, he was 55. it was a sunday. i found out the following tuesday morning when i got to work. i cried for the first time two weeks later. it was a saturday. dave died from AIDS related complications. he is survived by his family and many many friends who loved him. i am just one of them.


good night my friend...i never did like goodbyes.

*clapping hands + a shit eating grin*

the snow is melting, the sun feels warm on my face, and the birds are coming home.

and you wonder why i might need a little xanax before those birthday parties...

i had my very first, of what i hope are few and far between, suburban mom nightmare moments.

sidebar first: one of the teachers at my daughters school has decided to take a position elsewhere. this doesn't affect me directly, she teaches the kids younger than baby girl. but she was once my daughter’s teacher, so it affects me in that she has been one of the constant caregivers in my daughter’s life since she was 8 weeks old. she is a great teacher, she is a teacher that demands respect and gives it back to these kids, along with great amounts of affection. they love her and it is sad to see her go in that way that makes you sad when people come in and out of your life sometimes. knowing how loved my daughter has felt by her, it comforts me to know that other kids will get to know and be affected by this teacher's love.

moving on...i picked baby girl up a little early on the last day of work for said teacher. for those of you that have kids in daycare or school you know that any alteration in pick up or drop off time allows interaction with other parents that you don't normally get to see. so on this day i happened upon *sarah's mom. we walked to our cars together engaged in the light mom chatter of "so when are you having another one? baby girl just loves the little kids, i bet she'd love a little brother or sister"...i just love the added bonus pressure of random people trying to get me to procreate, don't you?

when we got to our cars the conversation then became something like this...

sarah's mom, "i'm so upset that said teacher is leaving. i just don't know how i feel about the other teachers and sarah's little sister is in that room now."

me, "i'm so sad that said teacher is leaving. baby girl has been with her since she was 8 weeks old."

sarah's mom, "i'm thinking about moving the girls. sarah will be going to kindergarten this year and we really have to think about after school programs."

me, "yeah i'm glad i've got another year to think about that."

sarah's mom, "we've had sarah on the waiting list at mecca for over a year now. we're still not sure if she's going to get in before she goes to kindergarten. do you have baby girl on the list yet?"

me, "uhhh.....no. (all the while thinking in my head, what the fuck is mecca?)" i believe i had that deer caught in headlights look about me as i really was ill prepared for such a sheer competitive, keeping up with the jones, car pooling, mini-van driving, suburban mom kind of question. until that moment, i really believed that i'd left that all behind in a little town in ohio somewhere...at least that's what i'd hoped.

she smells like spring

last night as i sang songs to baby girl, all tucked into bed with sleepy girl eyes; i brushed the tiny sweaty pieces of hair from her face and she put her arm around my neck to pull me closer. she likes me to snuggle close for our "one more last song". i hugged her close and nuzzled my face into her neck and inhaled her sweet baby girl smell, and there, nestled in the nape of her neck was the scent of fresh cut grass. and for a moment baby girl was like a warm spring day, and it was perfect.

february sucked. let's never speak of it again.