To My Hair Stylist, Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday Debbie! Looking at the pictures Liz put up on this blog reminds me just how rich you really are. I'm proud to say I actually know everyone in these pictures because that means I've been in your life, too.

My first memories of knowing you are just like the times we share now--your laughter, personality, warmth, generosity, morality (yep, I said morality!), love for animals...all these were there then, and they are so now. Of course, I didn't know you until you invited me to one of your parties--I'm pretty sure it was a Day of the Dead thing--and from then on, I was on the Debbie Train, too.

I've really enjoyed listening to each of your stories over the years, often more than once! I remember laughing with you and friends on Friday nights at the Vietnamese restaurant in Austin, and thinking every time: Debbie should write these down and publish a book. I think you've heard that from several people now, so when?

I have bitter/sweet memories of the times you, Liz, and I shared the death of one of our animal children. You two were there with me for Sasha; I was there for Billy, Terrence, Scottie, and so many others. Those experiences have given me a deep, loving, and soulful connection with you, and I appreciate them for what they are.

As for other ways you've effected my life, I must say that no other friend gives me so much "gup." (That's a Yankee term meaning "bullshit.") Because you're in my life, and I have to learn how to accept "gup" from you, I'm growing to be a better person. I realize that statement doesn't seem to be so much about you as it is me, but I really hope you know that it really is about you. I've learned so much from you: how to see color all around me, what certain rocks are made of, how to love others without judgement, how to cook, why Terriers are so darned cute, and much, much more. I'm sure God gave me your friendship because I'd be so ignorant without it!

O.k., enough of this maudlin barrage. A very funny story that you've told over and over is about the time you fell on a patch of ice on a street in Austin when you were with your friend, Terry. The visual image of a car coming at you in slow motion, you spinning around on your back like a bug that's been flipped over, and Terry, standing by the side of the road, screaming at you to "Get up bitch! Get up!" cracks me up.

So if, at times, you feel you've fallen and you're spinning around on the ice, I just want you to remember to "Get up, bitch! Get up!" I know you always will.

Happy 50th. I love you lots,

Dawn