Harvey opened at the Indianapolis Senior Center this week, to a fabulous crowd of about 50. Participating in this show has been a breath of fresh air for me, as I recently portrayed "maggie the Cat" at Carmel Community player's Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Playing Nurse Kelly has been a joyous ride, and a challenge to my comedic timing and stretch of facial expressions.
The Indianapolis Senior Center has been very busy the past few years, tapping into its vast array of talent that patron the center. Being able to be involved, and crossing age barriers to get to know these wonderful people is a joy in my life. Listening to their stories, sharing in ideals, has helped me to continue to mold the person I know I want to become, and NOT become.
There is one gal in particular, whom I just adore. I have no idea how old she is, but to go by the eay she acts, or by how busy her life is, you would think she was 25. Her phone rings with text messages, and people calling her constantly. She swing dances, country line dances, and I believe takes every class they offer at the Senior Center. She shows no signs of slowing, and as the lead female in Harvey, she executes a performance that I find to be refreshing.
The main message, if you were looking for one, in Harvey, is that there is a little bit of "crazy" in all of us. Listening to the words of the character Elwood, when he says, "My mother always said you could be oh so smart, or oh so pleasant. For years I was smart, I recommend pleasant", resonate with me. The character dances to his own beat and makes life happen, as opposed to waiting for it to happen.
Harvey runs until May 1, 2010 at the Indianapolis Senior Center.
After which, I will be taking a well deserved break for a bit, to enjoy some evenings on my patio, drinking wine, catching up on some books, and swimming with the lil man. (Who was ecstatic, by the way, when I mentioned the break)
My big thanks to those involved in the show, as well as to those who have come or will come to see it.
~Lisa Marie
Monday, April 26, 2010
Captured Light Studios Shoot (Charles Letbetter) - 4/24/10
So on Friday the 23rd, I receive a message from Mr. Letbetter on Facebook, indicating he has a need for me to be in front of his camera, and what was I doing next Saturday. I indicated I could shoot early, so we made a plan to shoot.
Saturday, April 24th rolls around and I am up hustling to get my stuff together for a shoot with Brian Logan (pics and blog to be posted as soon as I receive)...and I receive an IM from Charles, "I am getting the coffee ready, see you in a little while."
While *I* had assumed Charles had meant we were setting up a shoot for May 1, he meant April 24th. ACK.
Long, embarrassing story short, Charles was gracious enough to forgive me, and fit me in after my shoot with Brian Logan.
Charles is the only photographer I know (thus far) that has told me, "I want to shoot you in sweatpants, or something comfy like that." My first reaction was.....HUH? What? Um, ok, Mr. Outwiththeangelsgettingnakedandplayinginmud. :) You want me clothed???? And sweatpants to boot???? What did someone slip in your french press?????
However, he redeemed himself when he went on to say, "Then I want to shoot naked, with heels" (me, not him - although the thought of Charles shooting naked with heels, well, I will leave all commentary to your own device)
It is amazing to me in the times I have worked with Charles, how he can take something as simple as a girl in yoga pants and a tank top, plop her down on a small blanket in a space not much bigger than a couch cushion, and capture angles and emotions most cannot get without alot of thought, planning, and scenery.
He posted the images, along with his creative text, late last evening, in his new site called "Storied Pictures".
I am honored to have graced the page.
Check out the shoot, "Health and Coffee", and story here:
http://www.charlesiletbetter.com/StoriedPictures/2010/04/25/health-coffee/
Leave comments, I know he appreciates your time.
Thanks again, Charles :)
~Lisa Marie
Saturday, April 24th rolls around and I am up hustling to get my stuff together for a shoot with Brian Logan (pics and blog to be posted as soon as I receive)...and I receive an IM from Charles, "I am getting the coffee ready, see you in a little while."
While *I* had assumed Charles had meant we were setting up a shoot for May 1, he meant April 24th. ACK.
Long, embarrassing story short, Charles was gracious enough to forgive me, and fit me in after my shoot with Brian Logan.
Charles is the only photographer I know (thus far) that has told me, "I want to shoot you in sweatpants, or something comfy like that." My first reaction was.....HUH? What? Um, ok, Mr. Outwiththeangelsgettingnakedandplayinginmud. :) You want me clothed???? And sweatpants to boot???? What did someone slip in your french press?????
However, he redeemed himself when he went on to say, "Then I want to shoot naked, with heels" (me, not him - although the thought of Charles shooting naked with heels, well, I will leave all commentary to your own device)
It is amazing to me in the times I have worked with Charles, how he can take something as simple as a girl in yoga pants and a tank top, plop her down on a small blanket in a space not much bigger than a couch cushion, and capture angles and emotions most cannot get without alot of thought, planning, and scenery.
He posted the images, along with his creative text, late last evening, in his new site called "Storied Pictures".
I am honored to have graced the page.
Check out the shoot, "Health and Coffee", and story here:
http://www.charlesiletbetter.com/StoriedPictures/2010/04/25/health-coffee/
Leave comments, I know he appreciates your time.
Thanks again, Charles :)
~Lisa Marie
Friday, April 23, 2010
Psycho with a Camera
So I have been in front of a camera not very long, many have heard my, "I don't consider myself a model", speech.
Have been on stage more and longer than I have been in front of a camera. BUT - that being said, I am not naive to the pathetic-ness of some GWC's (guys with cameras) out there just TRYING to get their jollies off by taking cheap, pitiful, not even remotely artistic shots of half naked women. And hey, if you can get away with it, more power to you.
So I value my time. I have an appreciative value for other people's time as well. If you are photog, and I see your work or style can benefit me and my portfolio, then I love to do trade work. Often, it can be more freeing and less stressful, as we are both giving of our time to "see what happens".
If your work will do nothing to benefit me, then there needs to be some sort of monetary compensation, as I do not feel your work is worth my time otherwise.
So when I am hit up for paid work, of course I am going to look into it. I am, after all, a business woman. Money talks, bullshit walks.
I receive an email on my modeling portfolio asking for my rates for lingerie work. I send the information and then receive a reply questioning why I am so cheap? (no offense, he says)
I indicate, well, I feel I am reasonable, but my nudework is more.
So shoot concepts are discussed. Rates are discussed. Things seem to be a normal, legitimite business deal so far.
I then start receiving text messages asking if I do more risque things. Well, it depends on the concept. It also depends on the $. I am then being instructed on this photogs 'hosiery fetish', and he would like to get pics of my legs with a male model. Ok fine, I have worked with males before.
Then I get asked if I do video...um...really? REALLY? Not only no, but hell no. (So it becomes rather apparent to me what this is turning into) He says, Oh, well your face wouldn't show. I say, OK, I will do it for $10,000.00, as a consideration offer. he then manages to call me a prima donna, among other things and I reply, well, I TOLD you I don't do video. So IF you are going to continue to ask about that, I am going to tell you the price I will consider.
So the conversation escalates and I finally resolve to tell the wacko, Thank you, but no thank you, I don't think this is going to work. Good luck with your work.
SO I write the fucktard off, and go on with my life.
About an hour later, I get a message asking me to MEET HIM FOR COFFEE AT STARBUCKS AND HE WIILL PAY ME $100.
WTF?!?!?!?!?!
Are you THAT hard up dude???
So then, yesterday, finally, I get yet ANOTHER message from Mr. PWC, and he wants to know if I will still consider our "original" deal. I say, well, I need you to email me all of the logistics so i can review, and then decide. He says, EMAIL??? I can't type out all of that...
I said, well, I have slept since then, and don't remember, it isn't as if you are the only person I have talked to in the last week.
He calls me a prima donna and a tease, and a few other names and then says, "well, you want me to type out that I want you to get me off with hose on?"
Um....EXCUSE me? You said it was a male model, you never indicated it was you that was the sick fuck wanting to get your jollies off. And HELL NO I am not going to entertain your pathetic fetish fantasy you perverted fuck. Go hire a whore if that is what you want, or a porn star, but leave ME the fuck alone.
Even that doesn't get him to go away.
Finally, I told him that if he didn't leave me alone, I had several LARGE male friends that would not mind going to town on his fucktarded ass and not to think I couldn't find out where he lived. I may be a woman, I may not be super strong, but I AM a redhead, (and we DO do it better) and this fireball will literally beat the fuck out of your sorry ass...
Needless to say, I have not heard from him since.
I think doing artistic nude photography is one of the most beautiful things a person can do. It opens up a trust between you, your internal self, and the person capturing you and your internal self. When assholes set out to violate and take advantage of that trust, they should be tied up to a pole and burned at the penis.
Just sayin...
~Lisa Marie
Have been on stage more and longer than I have been in front of a camera. BUT - that being said, I am not naive to the pathetic-ness of some GWC's (guys with cameras) out there just TRYING to get their jollies off by taking cheap, pitiful, not even remotely artistic shots of half naked women. And hey, if you can get away with it, more power to you.
So I value my time. I have an appreciative value for other people's time as well. If you are photog, and I see your work or style can benefit me and my portfolio, then I love to do trade work. Often, it can be more freeing and less stressful, as we are both giving of our time to "see what happens".
If your work will do nothing to benefit me, then there needs to be some sort of monetary compensation, as I do not feel your work is worth my time otherwise.
So when I am hit up for paid work, of course I am going to look into it. I am, after all, a business woman. Money talks, bullshit walks.
I receive an email on my modeling portfolio asking for my rates for lingerie work. I send the information and then receive a reply questioning why I am so cheap? (no offense, he says)
I indicate, well, I feel I am reasonable, but my nudework is more.
So shoot concepts are discussed. Rates are discussed. Things seem to be a normal, legitimite business deal so far.
I then start receiving text messages asking if I do more risque things. Well, it depends on the concept. It also depends on the $. I am then being instructed on this photogs 'hosiery fetish', and he would like to get pics of my legs with a male model. Ok fine, I have worked with males before.
Then I get asked if I do video...um...really? REALLY? Not only no, but hell no. (So it becomes rather apparent to me what this is turning into) He says, Oh, well your face wouldn't show. I say, OK, I will do it for $10,000.00, as a consideration offer. he then manages to call me a prima donna, among other things and I reply, well, I TOLD you I don't do video. So IF you are going to continue to ask about that, I am going to tell you the price I will consider.
So the conversation escalates and I finally resolve to tell the wacko, Thank you, but no thank you, I don't think this is going to work. Good luck with your work.
SO I write the fucktard off, and go on with my life.
About an hour later, I get a message asking me to MEET HIM FOR COFFEE AT STARBUCKS AND HE WIILL PAY ME $100.
WTF?!?!?!?!?!
Are you THAT hard up dude???
So then, yesterday, finally, I get yet ANOTHER message from Mr. PWC, and he wants to know if I will still consider our "original" deal. I say, well, I need you to email me all of the logistics so i can review, and then decide. He says, EMAIL??? I can't type out all of that...
I said, well, I have slept since then, and don't remember, it isn't as if you are the only person I have talked to in the last week.
He calls me a prima donna and a tease, and a few other names and then says, "well, you want me to type out that I want you to get me off with hose on?"
Um....EXCUSE me? You said it was a male model, you never indicated it was you that was the sick fuck wanting to get your jollies off. And HELL NO I am not going to entertain your pathetic fetish fantasy you perverted fuck. Go hire a whore if that is what you want, or a porn star, but leave ME the fuck alone.
Even that doesn't get him to go away.
Finally, I told him that if he didn't leave me alone, I had several LARGE male friends that would not mind going to town on his fucktarded ass and not to think I couldn't find out where he lived. I may be a woman, I may not be super strong, but I AM a redhead, (and we DO do it better) and this fireball will literally beat the fuck out of your sorry ass...
Needless to say, I have not heard from him since.
I think doing artistic nude photography is one of the most beautiful things a person can do. It opens up a trust between you, your internal self, and the person capturing you and your internal self. When assholes set out to violate and take advantage of that trust, they should be tied up to a pole and burned at the penis.
Just sayin...
~Lisa Marie
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Dear Miss Red...
The auditors have reported back their information on your most recent internal audit and we wanted to share our findings:
1. The weight training routine has caused your muscles to grow and the fat to run screaming, bravo.
a. However, the intense amount of strain on the muscle has indicated a stress push, which often happens when people exercise out of anger, rage, or venting.
b. We also find an overcompensation of weight lifting due to excess consumption of alcohol.
2. Your normal regulated system of "holding people at arm's length" seemed to be shut down for an individual in particular, and that has backfired in your face, as your internal emotion system has self destructed.
a. Resuming the arm's length protocol for everyone seems to be the best solution at this time.
3. Your hard shell exterior has been knicked, and neglecting to patch that crack could result in your soft insides spilling out, and we would'nt want anyone to see that, now would we???
4. The overlooked, neglect-feel you have, is your own fault - refer to #2 above.
5. You receive an A+ for strength and perseverance, as for the MOST part, very few on the outside notice these audit failings. And if they do - refer to #2 above.
6. Your biological clock is dead, and we couldn't be happier, but the internal clock keeps ticking away asking when you are going to set in motion all of the things you are going to accomplish?
7. All of your insides have asked when they can expect some rest? Sleep is not a bad thing. Please look into
8. The McDonald's fries, and hugeass hamburger (yes, we saw you) you ate for dinner...is not really helping things, gorgeous...
Please review these audit findings and if you happen to have any pushback, please let the committee know - otherwise, we will look to you making changes appropriate as we have suggested.
Thank you again for another internal audit.
~the Auditor
1. The weight training routine has caused your muscles to grow and the fat to run screaming, bravo.
a. However, the intense amount of strain on the muscle has indicated a stress push, which often happens when people exercise out of anger, rage, or venting.
b. We also find an overcompensation of weight lifting due to excess consumption of alcohol.
2. Your normal regulated system of "holding people at arm's length" seemed to be shut down for an individual in particular, and that has backfired in your face, as your internal emotion system has self destructed.
a. Resuming the arm's length protocol for everyone seems to be the best solution at this time.
3. Your hard shell exterior has been knicked, and neglecting to patch that crack could result in your soft insides spilling out, and we would'nt want anyone to see that, now would we???
4. The overlooked, neglect-feel you have, is your own fault - refer to #2 above.
5. You receive an A+ for strength and perseverance, as for the MOST part, very few on the outside notice these audit failings. And if they do - refer to #2 above.
6. Your biological clock is dead, and we couldn't be happier, but the internal clock keeps ticking away asking when you are going to set in motion all of the things you are going to accomplish?
7. All of your insides have asked when they can expect some rest? Sleep is not a bad thing. Please look into
8. The McDonald's fries, and hugeass hamburger (yes, we saw you) you ate for dinner...is not really helping things, gorgeous...
Please review these audit findings and if you happen to have any pushback, please let the committee know - otherwise, we will look to you making changes appropriate as we have suggested.
Thank you again for another internal audit.
~the Auditor
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Stupid fucking stupid jerk...
This is one of my favorite poems of all time. I recall first reading it in high school.
Ha, I was head over heels in love with a fellow named Seth (henceforth called Mr. Perfect) and he had no clue I was alive. He was a jock, I was a show choir/theater nerd. :) We used to 'happen' to pass by each other in the hall (only because I tried to follow him and find out his schedule so I could 'happen' to pass by) and we would lock eyes in the hall (because I have never been able to resist a staredown) and he would smile and if he did not have the most perfect teeth I have ever seen in my life!!!!!!!
Whew, I need a moment...
Anyhow, it was at that point in my life, I learned that we all want what we can't have. It has become a mantra of mine, although, here recently, I find myself questioning it. Not questioning the validity of the statement, but more of a "Why?" "Why can't I have it if I want it?"
I have not come up with an answer yet. Honestly, I sound like a whiny child arguing with a parent about going to bed..."but I don't WANNA go to bed...WHYYYYYYYYY????"
Its JUST the way it is, I laugh at this because one of the fellows I work with uses this phrase in training others when they ask questions and he doesnt know the answer or has a hard time explaining the answer. "Its just the way it is...it is funny, we make fun of him. digression, sorry
So Mr. Perfect is no longer, as I have realized there is no such thing, and as depressing as that is, that is one thing I do find a small bit of comfort in. Because that means I can stop wasting my fucking time looking, not that I spent a great deal of time at it anyways. Most men who want to take me out have heard my "the only man in my life for the next 10 years has blond hair and sleeps with a teddy bear", speech.
But you still want it. You want that person you can't have, the relationship you can't have, that 5th glass of wine you can't have, to where it becomes an obsession.
So thank you, Maggie Estep, for your insight, your wisdom, and your stupid fucking jerk, because we all have one...
The Stupid Jerk I'm Obsessed With by Maggie Estep
The stupid jerk I'm obsessed withstands so close to me
I can feel his breath
on my neck
and smell
the way he would smell
if we slept together
because he is the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with
and that is his primary function in life
to be a stupid jerk I can obsess over
and to talk to that dingy bimbette blonde as if he really wanted to hear about her
manicures and
pedicures and
New Age ritualistic enema cures and
truth be known, he probably does wanna hear about it
because he is the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with
and he's obsessed with doing anything he can
to lend fuel to my fire
he makes a point of standing
looking over my shoulder when I'm talking to the guy who adores me
and would bark like a dog
and wave to strangers
if I asked him to bark like a dog
and wave to strangers
but I can't ask him to bark like a dog
or impersonate any kind of animal at all
cause I'm too busy
looking at the way the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with
has pants on that perfectly define his well-shaped ass
to the point where I'm thoroughly frantic
I'm just gonna go home and stick my head in the oven
overdose on nutmeg and aspirin
and sit in the bathtub reading The Executioner's Song
and being completely confounded by the fact
that I can seethe stupid jerk I'm obsessed with's face
defining itself in the peeling plaster of the wall
grinning and winking
and I start to yell,
Get the hell out of there
You're just a figment of my imagination
Just get a life and get out of my plaster
and pass me the next painful situation please
but he just keeps on
grinning and winking
he's the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with
and he's mine
in my plaster
And frankly, I couldn't be happier. - Maggie Estep
~Lisa Marie
Ha, I was head over heels in love with a fellow named Seth (henceforth called Mr. Perfect) and he had no clue I was alive. He was a jock, I was a show choir/theater nerd. :) We used to 'happen' to pass by each other in the hall (only because I tried to follow him and find out his schedule so I could 'happen' to pass by) and we would lock eyes in the hall (because I have never been able to resist a staredown) and he would smile and if he did not have the most perfect teeth I have ever seen in my life!!!!!!!
Whew, I need a moment...
Anyhow, it was at that point in my life, I learned that we all want what we can't have. It has become a mantra of mine, although, here recently, I find myself questioning it. Not questioning the validity of the statement, but more of a "Why?" "Why can't I have it if I want it?"
I have not come up with an answer yet. Honestly, I sound like a whiny child arguing with a parent about going to bed..."but I don't WANNA go to bed...WHYYYYYYYYY????"
Its JUST the way it is, I laugh at this because one of the fellows I work with uses this phrase in training others when they ask questions and he doesnt know the answer or has a hard time explaining the answer. "Its just the way it is...it is funny, we make fun of him. digression, sorry
So Mr. Perfect is no longer, as I have realized there is no such thing, and as depressing as that is, that is one thing I do find a small bit of comfort in. Because that means I can stop wasting my fucking time looking, not that I spent a great deal of time at it anyways. Most men who want to take me out have heard my "the only man in my life for the next 10 years has blond hair and sleeps with a teddy bear", speech.
But you still want it. You want that person you can't have, the relationship you can't have, that 5th glass of wine you can't have, to where it becomes an obsession.
So thank you, Maggie Estep, for your insight, your wisdom, and your stupid fucking jerk, because we all have one...
The Stupid Jerk I'm Obsessed With by Maggie Estep
The stupid jerk I'm obsessed withstands so close to me
I can feel his breath
on my neck
and smell
the way he would smell
if we slept together
because he is the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with
and that is his primary function in life
to be a stupid jerk I can obsess over
and to talk to that dingy bimbette blonde as if he really wanted to hear about her
manicures and
pedicures and
New Age ritualistic enema cures and
truth be known, he probably does wanna hear about it
because he is the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with
and he's obsessed with doing anything he can
to lend fuel to my fire
he makes a point of standing
looking over my shoulder when I'm talking to the guy who adores me
and would bark like a dog
and wave to strangers
if I asked him to bark like a dog
and wave to strangers
but I can't ask him to bark like a dog
or impersonate any kind of animal at all
cause I'm too busy
looking at the way the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with
has pants on that perfectly define his well-shaped ass
to the point where I'm thoroughly frantic
I'm just gonna go home and stick my head in the oven
overdose on nutmeg and aspirin
and sit in the bathtub reading The Executioner's Song
and being completely confounded by the fact
that I can seethe stupid jerk I'm obsessed with's face
defining itself in the peeling plaster of the wall
grinning and winking
and I start to yell,
Get the hell out of there
You're just a figment of my imagination
Just get a life and get out of my plaster
and pass me the next painful situation please
but he just keeps on
grinning and winking
he's the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with
and he's mine
in my plaster
And frankly, I couldn't be happier. - Maggie Estep
~Lisa Marie
Slowburn Images Shoot 4/17/10
Scott Allen, fantastic photographer in Indianapolis, posted on Facebook a need for women...and a bed. :)
Ok, I'll bite. (redheads do it better, you know)
So Scott proceeds to tell me about his "Bed" project, where he is capturing subjects in a bed, doing various things. So of COURSE I am game. A nice big cherry sleigh bed like mine should be used for something other than sleeping and...not sleeping :) SURE let's shoot in my bed.
He asked me to bring things into the bed with me that outline my personality. So immediately, wine and underwear came into my mind.
Also, NATURALLY, the "Redheads Do It Better" t-shirt which I will be buried in.
Scott is a pleasure to work with, only had one casualty, and that was me...falling off the bed and slamming my knee into my dresser. I still have the bruise.
~Lisa Marie
Rage by the dashboard light...
So, this week...
For some reason, I have been in a sort of sad state of mind. Very bizarre to me, actually, because this happens every so often, like a rolling ocean wave. It comes and goes, never know how big it is going to be or how long it is going to last.
One of my FABULOUS qualities I posess because I am a redhead (and Redheads do it Better) is an internal rage that usually compliments the sad state. They don't happen exactly at the same time, but the rage manifests itself when the little nuances of life that don't NORMALLY bother me, start to add up.
No, its not pms, and you are putting me into a rage just by suggesting that :)
Driving home from the day job yesterday, after having spent most of the day in a complete sad funk, I found myself getting pissed off erratically at my cigarette lighter in my car. I have my cell phone charger plugged into this thing, and overall, have never had an issue with it. every now and then, if it is not plugged in all the way, it shuts off, but no big deal...I plug it in tight and viola! It works. the universe decided to fuck with me for the sake of it yesterday.
The charger would not come on - my phone was running out of charge, and I am sure I looked like a crazy woman at the stoplight at 38th and College, windows down, mouthing, "Fuckitall" trying to get this thing plugged in to work.
Proceeding north on College, the situation escalated as apparently shoving the damn thing harder into the lighter-piece doesn't make it work either. On that note, yanking the charger out and slamming the entire thing against the dashboard, or beating the steering wheel making the car horn honk, doesn't get it to work either (in case you wanted to try it).
Reaching the Broad Ripple area, exasperation gave way to me throwing the whole confounded thing into the back seat, and of course, my phone was attached to it. (SON OF A BITCH) So, if you were in Broad Ripple at College and Westfield around 5:15pm yesterday, and heard shrieking like a banshee...um, yeah, that was me...
It was at that point the speed limit suddenly became 75 miles an hour and every car had turned into a tiny squirrel in the road (yes, i have no problem running over squirrels, if you are that dumb to run out in the road, your ass deserves it)...yes, we can say road rage.
Slamming on my breaks at the next stop light, I reach under my seat grasping for the cell phone and charger I had thrown, because I AM a glutton for punishment. Only to reach my hand into SOMETHING that apparently the 'lil man' had eaten in the car, and now had turned into some gelatinous mess, which my hand was now covered in.
Not going to pretend this story ended well, as I said, this week has been a sad state so far, and yesterday seemed to be coupled with the rage...needless to say, I ended up showing up to rehearsal for Harvey looking redder than a lobster and I actually believe I was seething.
Today - we have no rage, we have the exhausted, "after rage" feel, the dejected, complacent, 'whatever' sort of feeling. And that's ok. Today started out feeling rejected, glossed over and neglected, but it was expected. I have expected it all week, and thats ok.
Its ok to welcome feelings of all shapes and sizes, as the bad makes you appreciate the good.
My only concern however, is how I am going to explain to the car people how the ashtray/lighter holder actually got ripped out of the dashboard...
For some reason, I have been in a sort of sad state of mind. Very bizarre to me, actually, because this happens every so often, like a rolling ocean wave. It comes and goes, never know how big it is going to be or how long it is going to last.
One of my FABULOUS qualities I posess because I am a redhead (and Redheads do it Better) is an internal rage that usually compliments the sad state. They don't happen exactly at the same time, but the rage manifests itself when the little nuances of life that don't NORMALLY bother me, start to add up.
No, its not pms, and you are putting me into a rage just by suggesting that :)
Driving home from the day job yesterday, after having spent most of the day in a complete sad funk, I found myself getting pissed off erratically at my cigarette lighter in my car. I have my cell phone charger plugged into this thing, and overall, have never had an issue with it. every now and then, if it is not plugged in all the way, it shuts off, but no big deal...I plug it in tight and viola! It works. the universe decided to fuck with me for the sake of it yesterday.
The charger would not come on - my phone was running out of charge, and I am sure I looked like a crazy woman at the stoplight at 38th and College, windows down, mouthing, "Fuckitall" trying to get this thing plugged in to work.
Proceeding north on College, the situation escalated as apparently shoving the damn thing harder into the lighter-piece doesn't make it work either. On that note, yanking the charger out and slamming the entire thing against the dashboard, or beating the steering wheel making the car horn honk, doesn't get it to work either (in case you wanted to try it).
Reaching the Broad Ripple area, exasperation gave way to me throwing the whole confounded thing into the back seat, and of course, my phone was attached to it. (SON OF A BITCH) So, if you were in Broad Ripple at College and Westfield around 5:15pm yesterday, and heard shrieking like a banshee...um, yeah, that was me...
It was at that point the speed limit suddenly became 75 miles an hour and every car had turned into a tiny squirrel in the road (yes, i have no problem running over squirrels, if you are that dumb to run out in the road, your ass deserves it)...yes, we can say road rage.
Slamming on my breaks at the next stop light, I reach under my seat grasping for the cell phone and charger I had thrown, because I AM a glutton for punishment. Only to reach my hand into SOMETHING that apparently the 'lil man' had eaten in the car, and now had turned into some gelatinous mess, which my hand was now covered in.
Not going to pretend this story ended well, as I said, this week has been a sad state so far, and yesterday seemed to be coupled with the rage...needless to say, I ended up showing up to rehearsal for Harvey looking redder than a lobster and I actually believe I was seething.
Today - we have no rage, we have the exhausted, "after rage" feel, the dejected, complacent, 'whatever' sort of feeling. And that's ok. Today started out feeling rejected, glossed over and neglected, but it was expected. I have expected it all week, and thats ok.
Its ok to welcome feelings of all shapes and sizes, as the bad makes you appreciate the good.
My only concern however, is how I am going to explain to the car people how the ashtray/lighter holder actually got ripped out of the dashboard...
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Science Sex and the Ladies
Check out the trailer!!!
Am so excited about this - my first film EVER. This was shot in the summer of 2009, and many a trip was made to Anderson, In for MANY a long Saturday. It was worth it though
http://vimeo.com/11036437
Check it out, and love it!!!
~Lisa Marie
Am so excited about this - my first film EVER. This was shot in the summer of 2009, and many a trip was made to Anderson, In for MANY a long Saturday. It was worth it though
http://vimeo.com/11036437
Check it out, and love it!!!
~Lisa Marie
To the bald guy that keeps asking me out...
So tonight,
As I was editing a few pages for this blog, and I had posted the link to my facebook account,
http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1405265714&ref=profile
I received a message from a friend, in panic mode (as usual with the male species) wondering when he was going to read about the "bald guy who keeps asking you out".
So this blog, dear bald guy, is for you...
As I was editing a few pages for this blog, and I had posted the link to my facebook account,
http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1405265714&ref=profile
I received a message from a friend, in panic mode (as usual with the male species) wondering when he was going to read about the "bald guy who keeps asking you out".
So this blog, dear bald guy, is for you...
If this world were big enough...
If this world were big enough, for just you and I
I'd pull the stars down for you
We'd walk through shallow pools of light,
There'd be nothing we couldn't do
We would wake up in the morning in the bright sunshine
And jump on the clouds all day
We would talk to each other on and on
Although we had nothing to say
You'd pick me up and twirl me around
And I'd fall with no alarm
Cause I know that you would always be there
To catch me in your powerful arms
And when I'd fall to sleep at night
You'd never know how much
I would dream of the day it would be only us
If this world were just big enough
LMS 1994
I'd pull the stars down for you
We'd walk through shallow pools of light,
There'd be nothing we couldn't do
We would wake up in the morning in the bright sunshine
And jump on the clouds all day
We would talk to each other on and on
Although we had nothing to say
You'd pick me up and twirl me around
And I'd fall with no alarm
Cause I know that you would always be there
To catch me in your powerful arms
And when I'd fall to sleep at night
You'd never know how much
I would dream of the day it would be only us
If this world were just big enough
LMS 1994
Duck and cover
So last night,
At the grocery store, after the day job, running a tad behind because I need to get to rehearsal for Harvey, IN the frozen foods (promise I am not being cliche)...I hear a "Oh you grocery shop too?" (the Jamaican accent was unmistakeable, I knew who this was...damn...)
My instant (IGNORE BUTTON) radar went off in my head as I continued to peruse the Bertoli pasta. No good, this one is persistent, we have met before.
Him - "Ahhhh, excuse me? You grocery shop too??? Ha-looooo?????" (UGH fuckitalltohell)
Me - "Oh? Oh HI! How are you? Sorry, didn't know you were talking to me (lie). Yes, I do. Just picking up a few things for me and my son. Actually just got off work, running behind, have rehearsal"
Him - "Oh uh, yes, so when we go out?"
Me - "Oh, well, like I have told you before, I have my son Sunday night through Thursday night, and so I don't have alot of time for going out and doing things. Like I have told you before, my friends don't even get alot of my time, let alone, almost strangers."
Him - "Ah yes, you just no like me"
Me - (for God's sake, how many fucking egos do I have to be forced to stroke today HUH?!?!?!?!?) "You know, like I told you before, MY being busy has nothing to do with you. I have work, then rehearsals, I have photoshoots, I have my son, I go to school...etc etc. It is not a reflection on you, I just like to do alot of things and do not have time."
Him - "Well I want call you. we can talk."
Me - (ha, yeah cause that's gonna happen) "Well again, I don't have much time to just sit around and talk."
Him - "Ok, I will come by sometime and see if I see you"
SHIT it all. This, being the weirdo who lives in my apt complex who was out walking along the sidewalk last year when I moved in, and apparently saw me working on my patio, and I MUST have forgotten to take down the "Please, come fucking talk to ME!!!!!" sign, and so he stopped to lean over my fence. Guess I look more chatable with my gardening gloves on...
Every day last summer, he would walk by, numerous times to chat me up. I only know becasue HE TOLD ME SO. I was not there, I was busy, doing....my life. But if I did happen to be there, after the first few days he did that, I learned to keep a watch and dart inside!
Yes, mean. Yes, pathetic. But when I have told you I have no interest, and you continue to chat me up...me running for cover inside is NOT code for, TRY HARDER, GODDAMNIT.
So it seems, based on last night's frozen foods escapades, I can look forward to another summer of playing 'duck and cover'...
At the grocery store, after the day job, running a tad behind because I need to get to rehearsal for Harvey, IN the frozen foods (promise I am not being cliche)...I hear a "Oh you grocery shop too?" (the Jamaican accent was unmistakeable, I knew who this was...damn...)
My instant (IGNORE BUTTON) radar went off in my head as I continued to peruse the Bertoli pasta. No good, this one is persistent, we have met before.
Him - "Ahhhh, excuse me? You grocery shop too??? Ha-looooo?????" (UGH fuckitalltohell)
Me - "Oh? Oh HI! How are you? Sorry, didn't know you were talking to me (lie). Yes, I do. Just picking up a few things for me and my son. Actually just got off work, running behind, have rehearsal"
Him - "Oh uh, yes, so when we go out?"
Me - "Oh, well, like I have told you before, I have my son Sunday night through Thursday night, and so I don't have alot of time for going out and doing things. Like I have told you before, my friends don't even get alot of my time, let alone, almost strangers."
Him - "Ah yes, you just no like me"
Me - (for God's sake, how many fucking egos do I have to be forced to stroke today HUH?!?!?!?!?) "You know, like I told you before, MY being busy has nothing to do with you. I have work, then rehearsals, I have photoshoots, I have my son, I go to school...etc etc. It is not a reflection on you, I just like to do alot of things and do not have time."
Him - "Well I want call you. we can talk."
Me - (ha, yeah cause that's gonna happen) "Well again, I don't have much time to just sit around and talk."
Him - "Ok, I will come by sometime and see if I see you"
SHIT it all. This, being the weirdo who lives in my apt complex who was out walking along the sidewalk last year when I moved in, and apparently saw me working on my patio, and I MUST have forgotten to take down the "Please, come fucking talk to ME!!!!!" sign, and so he stopped to lean over my fence. Guess I look more chatable with my gardening gloves on...
Every day last summer, he would walk by, numerous times to chat me up. I only know becasue HE TOLD ME SO. I was not there, I was busy, doing....my life. But if I did happen to be there, after the first few days he did that, I learned to keep a watch and dart inside!
Yes, mean. Yes, pathetic. But when I have told you I have no interest, and you continue to chat me up...me running for cover inside is NOT code for, TRY HARDER, GODDAMNIT.
So it seems, based on last night's frozen foods escapades, I can look forward to another summer of playing 'duck and cover'...
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