Paul Mitchell The School - Hair Show
May 14, 2010
I don't have much to say about this. There was a 'booth convention' going on at Greenwood Mall and Paul Mitchell was one of the stage acts.
We went to the school a few days prior to have our hair cut and colored and all of that. Mine went a darker red, but is semi-permanent, so it will fade quickly I am told. Eh, it's just hair.
There were 3 shows throughout the course of the day, and in the meantime! I got to shop! Which was perfect because I needed to pick up some things for a shoot.
Based on my recent pc issues (being STOLEN), I have limited access to post pics on HERE, but at any rate, I will send you to my FB page link where you can see. :)
LMS
http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/album.php?aid=62497&id=1405265714
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Movin on up...
So...
Sunday I FINALLY nailed down and chose the new place of residence, after the...um..."TV Chronicles" that happened in my ghetto apartment.
I find it interesting. When I was a kid, I never knew we were poor. I mean, my mom was a respitory therapist, my dad was in the army...we usually had food on the table, clothes to wear. Although there were many nights when mom and dad would leave for a meeting (Amway meeting - whole other blog in itself), dad would say, well eat some cereal or some ramen noodles or something. I actually learned to cook by figuring out all the magnificent things I could do with a can of new potatoes.
And let me tell you, I can make some MEAN skillet potatoes, buddy :)
But I don't, or rather, I never considered us to be lacking of needs. Sure, a lack of wants. But we lived on a quiet street, nice house, it was clean....
It was only years later, of recent, actually, and 'grown-up' conversation with my dad I find out that most of the time, we had no money, and they were panicked where the next meal was going to come from.
When I moved to these apartments (Lakeside Pointe at Nora) last year, I have to admit, I was looking for a few things:
1. Big patio (I love to be outside and sit outside, and while I don't like to cut grass, I do enjoy flower gardening and planting)
2. Affordable (I was newly on my own, with a lil man to look after, and not sure of all the expenses and bills I was going to be taking on, so I had to be economical)
3. Location (I wanted a decent school for the lil man, but I wanted to be near my friends. I have no family here. My friends are the closest thing I have, and calling Snobby Princess to come cry with me at midnight is an easier drive from Carmel to 90th and College than to the southside of Indy)
My dad always said "Love wears rose colored glasses" and I really never knew what that meant.
I think over this year, I have found out.
Initially, when I looked into these apartments, I knew they were not the best. I knew there would be potential issues, but hey, that is what you get when you choose to live in a apartment community. I was not naive to that. I, however, WAS naive to what exact issues I would face living here.
*the 2 months of fleas I endured from the previous renter because she kept her 2 dogs in what was now MY bedroom
*the disgusting roach problem that I SWEAR, the people next to me were breeding these fuckers to shishkebab for dinner
*the toilet that never seemed to stop leaking, and the one morning I was planning to have a quiet, easy morning in bed, turned into getting a life jacket and canoe to swim out of the river of feces and piss that had made its way down my hall ...
*the neighbors on the left side of me, where I believe there are 21 people inhabiting a 2 bedroom apartment, no bigger than mine, and have some sort of mariachi band practice every night...and when I knock on the door at 11pm, and the 7 year old opens the door...it is disturbing because, (A) - a 7 year old is opening the door at 11pm at night and (B) - this child is the only one in the house who understands me
*the neighbors on the right side of me, yes, the ones with the roach shishkebabs, who always, ALWAYS are cooking something outside on some electric skillet, on a table that sits under their window on the patio. And you never see them come outside to cook it, always a hand is reaching through the screen they have ripped off the window to stir...whatever it is in that pan
*the neighbors above me who have 4 children and seem to get extreme pleasure from running/stomping back and forth across the floor, repeatedly...
*the people that have no respect for where they live or others property, in that, as they walk by the patios on the sidewalk, it is nothing for them to just carelessly toss their trash into my patio, or on the ground, or wherever they see fit...
Any one of these issues in itself, can be dealt with. Having them all slammed down on top of you, definitely puts you into a state of "this sucks, you have to get out" - however, you are also faced with, UGH moving AGAIN...ok its not so bad, just grin and bear it.
Not to MENTION the recent TV Chronicles. That was the last straw. When a lil man won't sleep in his own bed anymore and I cannot in good conscience, make him, because I know WHY he doesn't want to....it is time to realize, that while the area (Nora) may not be the ghetto, the actual complex you live in is.
And I must say, it isn't the management. Most everytime I had an issue, they were very quick to rectify the issue (except for the flooding, but it all got worked out).
However, as I have found a new place, and decided to move, I am already bringing boxes home and packing up, and undoing all I have worked to do over the last year. I am sad, to a point. I painted, I made this place mine, as best I could. It hurts when you are forced to let go of something you worked on, your sweat, your stress, and have to start over. Regardless if the start over is going to be better.
On the other hand, I have an appreciation for the fact that life is like that. It really is one big choose your own adventure book (I used to LOVE those!) and sometimes you really do have to go all the way back to the beginning and start over, because the last path you took was wrong, and now you have to start over to really get anywhere.
I must admit, I was a tad panicked about all of this and was sharing my panic about starting over with a dear friend of mine. (I value our friendship because he can very easily assist in putting things into perspective for me. I am often all over the place when I get stressed and he seems to have this rather logical way of saying, "but look at THIS!") (He also has a REALLY annoying trait of looking on the brightside of everything, which I always try to maintain a positive outlook in general, so when he lashes out with, "Well you may have roaches but at least you have a HOUSE to have roaches IN!!!" - I just want to strangle him. I call him Mr. Brightside)
So I was sharing my panic about starting over with Mr. Brightside, and he goes, "Do you anticipate painting when you move? Or do you plan to leave it all white?"
Well of course I am going to paint, I cannot live in a place that I cannot make into a home.
So he says,"Then you are going to do it anyway. That is your nature. Your only other option is to leave it all white and clinical feeling, and that way in a year, or 5 years, IF you have to move again, you won't have put all the work into it. But you can't do that. That is one of the things you enjoy"
Ugh, I hate when people get me :)
So yes. I am moving at the end of June to a FAB new place, still close by. But a much bigger apartment. Across the street is the tennis courts, swimming pool (with a lifeguard!), basketball court, volleyball, etc...oh and the place has secured, gated access. (SHWING!)
The more I pack into a box, the more I am actually looking forward to closing this chapter of this year of my life, and getting another chance to start over. Very few of us do get to start over, as much as we would often like to. I am thankful for this.
But just in case, I am bringing my own shishkebab sticks with me...
LMS
Sunday I FINALLY nailed down and chose the new place of residence, after the...um..."TV Chronicles" that happened in my ghetto apartment.
I find it interesting. When I was a kid, I never knew we were poor. I mean, my mom was a respitory therapist, my dad was in the army...we usually had food on the table, clothes to wear. Although there were many nights when mom and dad would leave for a meeting (Amway meeting - whole other blog in itself), dad would say, well eat some cereal or some ramen noodles or something. I actually learned to cook by figuring out all the magnificent things I could do with a can of new potatoes.
And let me tell you, I can make some MEAN skillet potatoes, buddy :)
But I don't, or rather, I never considered us to be lacking of needs. Sure, a lack of wants. But we lived on a quiet street, nice house, it was clean....
It was only years later, of recent, actually, and 'grown-up' conversation with my dad I find out that most of the time, we had no money, and they were panicked where the next meal was going to come from.
When I moved to these apartments (Lakeside Pointe at Nora) last year, I have to admit, I was looking for a few things:
1. Big patio (I love to be outside and sit outside, and while I don't like to cut grass, I do enjoy flower gardening and planting)
2. Affordable (I was newly on my own, with a lil man to look after, and not sure of all the expenses and bills I was going to be taking on, so I had to be economical)
3. Location (I wanted a decent school for the lil man, but I wanted to be near my friends. I have no family here. My friends are the closest thing I have, and calling Snobby Princess to come cry with me at midnight is an easier drive from Carmel to 90th and College than to the southside of Indy)
My dad always said "Love wears rose colored glasses" and I really never knew what that meant.
I think over this year, I have found out.
Initially, when I looked into these apartments, I knew they were not the best. I knew there would be potential issues, but hey, that is what you get when you choose to live in a apartment community. I was not naive to that. I, however, WAS naive to what exact issues I would face living here.
*the 2 months of fleas I endured from the previous renter because she kept her 2 dogs in what was now MY bedroom
*the disgusting roach problem that I SWEAR, the people next to me were breeding these fuckers to shishkebab for dinner
*the toilet that never seemed to stop leaking, and the one morning I was planning to have a quiet, easy morning in bed, turned into getting a life jacket and canoe to swim out of the river of feces and piss that had made its way down my hall ...
*the neighbors on the left side of me, where I believe there are 21 people inhabiting a 2 bedroom apartment, no bigger than mine, and have some sort of mariachi band practice every night...and when I knock on the door at 11pm, and the 7 year old opens the door...it is disturbing because, (A) - a 7 year old is opening the door at 11pm at night and (B) - this child is the only one in the house who understands me
*the neighbors on the right side of me, yes, the ones with the roach shishkebabs, who always, ALWAYS are cooking something outside on some electric skillet, on a table that sits under their window on the patio. And you never see them come outside to cook it, always a hand is reaching through the screen they have ripped off the window to stir...whatever it is in that pan
*the neighbors above me who have 4 children and seem to get extreme pleasure from running/stomping back and forth across the floor, repeatedly...
*the people that have no respect for where they live or others property, in that, as they walk by the patios on the sidewalk, it is nothing for them to just carelessly toss their trash into my patio, or on the ground, or wherever they see fit...
Any one of these issues in itself, can be dealt with. Having them all slammed down on top of you, definitely puts you into a state of "this sucks, you have to get out" - however, you are also faced with, UGH moving AGAIN...ok its not so bad, just grin and bear it.
Not to MENTION the recent TV Chronicles. That was the last straw. When a lil man won't sleep in his own bed anymore and I cannot in good conscience, make him, because I know WHY he doesn't want to....it is time to realize, that while the area (Nora) may not be the ghetto, the actual complex you live in is.
And I must say, it isn't the management. Most everytime I had an issue, they were very quick to rectify the issue (except for the flooding, but it all got worked out).
However, as I have found a new place, and decided to move, I am already bringing boxes home and packing up, and undoing all I have worked to do over the last year. I am sad, to a point. I painted, I made this place mine, as best I could. It hurts when you are forced to let go of something you worked on, your sweat, your stress, and have to start over. Regardless if the start over is going to be better.
On the other hand, I have an appreciation for the fact that life is like that. It really is one big choose your own adventure book (I used to LOVE those!) and sometimes you really do have to go all the way back to the beginning and start over, because the last path you took was wrong, and now you have to start over to really get anywhere.
I must admit, I was a tad panicked about all of this and was sharing my panic about starting over with a dear friend of mine. (I value our friendship because he can very easily assist in putting things into perspective for me. I am often all over the place when I get stressed and he seems to have this rather logical way of saying, "but look at THIS!") (He also has a REALLY annoying trait of looking on the brightside of everything, which I always try to maintain a positive outlook in general, so when he lashes out with, "Well you may have roaches but at least you have a HOUSE to have roaches IN!!!" - I just want to strangle him. I call him Mr. Brightside)
So I was sharing my panic about starting over with Mr. Brightside, and he goes, "Do you anticipate painting when you move? Or do you plan to leave it all white?"
Well of course I am going to paint, I cannot live in a place that I cannot make into a home.
So he says,"Then you are going to do it anyway. That is your nature. Your only other option is to leave it all white and clinical feeling, and that way in a year, or 5 years, IF you have to move again, you won't have put all the work into it. But you can't do that. That is one of the things you enjoy"
Ugh, I hate when people get me :)
So yes. I am moving at the end of June to a FAB new place, still close by. But a much bigger apartment. Across the street is the tennis courts, swimming pool (with a lifeguard!), basketball court, volleyball, etc...oh and the place has secured, gated access. (SHWING!)
The more I pack into a box, the more I am actually looking forward to closing this chapter of this year of my life, and getting another chance to start over. Very few of us do get to start over, as much as we would often like to. I am thankful for this.
But just in case, I am bringing my own shishkebab sticks with me...
LMS
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Always a bride, never a bridesmaid....
HELLOOO!!!!!
Check out my 15 seconds of fame on Fox 59 this morning!!!
I am the 3rd bride showcased (NO, I am not really a bride)
http://www.fox59.com/videobeta/?watchId=dd34c0b4-6626-4ef9-9618-af598563859c
Check out my 15 seconds of fame on Fox 59 this morning!!!
I am the 3rd bride showcased (NO, I am not really a bride)
http://www.fox59.com/videobeta/?watchId=dd34c0b4-6626-4ef9-9618-af598563859c
Friday, May 7, 2010
Take my TV.....please!!!!!
At this point today, I am almost laughing at the break in that happened at my apartment yesterday.
I receive a call at 3:45pm from the Asst. Manager at my apt complex, indicating someone had kicked my door in, and he knew for sure they had stolen my tv, but wasn't sure what else. Naturally, I go into full panic mode, as I have never had anything like THIS happen before.
When I was in high school, someone broke into my gym locker and stole my clothes, and 2 pairs of new Nike tennis shoes I had, so I had to go the rest of the day in my gym uniform (embarrassing)...but nothing as violating as this.
Violation - that is the only word really to describe this sort of thing. When I heard people talk about it before, that is what is always said. They felt violated. I thought it was almost a cliche. But seriously, that is the only feeling I had yesterday. Well, that AND how am I going to explain to the lil man what happened. His reactions cannot be planned (yes, he is a drama queen like me) and I knew I was in for a long night of consoling. He took it reasonably well, considering.
So the fucktards took our tv, my laptop, the Nintendo Wii, and the lil man's Nintendo DS. Yes, they did it when I was not home. No, they did not go through the rest of the place. They seemed to either know what they were after, or just took the things that were out.
My neighbor, Mr. Sanchez, told me he saw the people leaving. 2 black gentlemen (can I really call them that???) about 18-20 years old, and the drove off in a red Malibu. Glad to have this information, BECAUSE, based on things, I am very sure it was someone who lives in my complex.
I have a very large patio (it was THE selling feature of the place, IMHO) and a large sliding glass door that you can see right in if you walk by my patio. Many people walk by daily, several times a day in fact...and often at night, I sit out on my patio typing away on my laptop, with the curtains open. Anyone who walks by could see my huge tv. So it had to be someone who walked by at one point.
Granted, I am not going to be playing Magnum PI or anything...as I am not naive to the fact that most likely, the dickweeds won't be caught, my stuff won't be recovered, and I am thankful I have renter's insurance.
This tv I bought, a 32 inch flatscreen LCD/DVD combo. Loved that thing. BECAUSE it has a built in DVD player. However, it WAS a floor model, and for some reason, the DVD remote never worked properly. The thugtards did not take the remote.
This morning, before I left for work, I took a tour of my apartment complex...oh, out like a Sunday drive you know? How often do you get the pleasure to stroll through your community? I have been here a year and thought it was time to see what is over on the other side. Not like I was looking for anything in particular (red Malibu) - and not that I found anything. Yet.
No, if I find it I am not going to slash the tires, or beat on the door, or anything of that nature.
Actually, I think I will bake some cookies and put them in a box, and duct tape the box to the car, along with the tv remote and a note, saying, "You will probably need this to go with the tv you stole from me. Hope you enjoy the cookies, neighbor! :)"
Because I am all about building relationships.
~Lisa Marie
I receive a call at 3:45pm from the Asst. Manager at my apt complex, indicating someone had kicked my door in, and he knew for sure they had stolen my tv, but wasn't sure what else. Naturally, I go into full panic mode, as I have never had anything like THIS happen before.
When I was in high school, someone broke into my gym locker and stole my clothes, and 2 pairs of new Nike tennis shoes I had, so I had to go the rest of the day in my gym uniform (embarrassing)...but nothing as violating as this.
Violation - that is the only word really to describe this sort of thing. When I heard people talk about it before, that is what is always said. They felt violated. I thought it was almost a cliche. But seriously, that is the only feeling I had yesterday. Well, that AND how am I going to explain to the lil man what happened. His reactions cannot be planned (yes, he is a drama queen like me) and I knew I was in for a long night of consoling. He took it reasonably well, considering.
So the fucktards took our tv, my laptop, the Nintendo Wii, and the lil man's Nintendo DS. Yes, they did it when I was not home. No, they did not go through the rest of the place. They seemed to either know what they were after, or just took the things that were out.
My neighbor, Mr. Sanchez, told me he saw the people leaving. 2 black gentlemen (can I really call them that???) about 18-20 years old, and the drove off in a red Malibu. Glad to have this information, BECAUSE, based on things, I am very sure it was someone who lives in my complex.
I have a very large patio (it was THE selling feature of the place, IMHO) and a large sliding glass door that you can see right in if you walk by my patio. Many people walk by daily, several times a day in fact...and often at night, I sit out on my patio typing away on my laptop, with the curtains open. Anyone who walks by could see my huge tv. So it had to be someone who walked by at one point.
Granted, I am not going to be playing Magnum PI or anything...as I am not naive to the fact that most likely, the dickweeds won't be caught, my stuff won't be recovered, and I am thankful I have renter's insurance.
This tv I bought, a 32 inch flatscreen LCD/DVD combo. Loved that thing. BECAUSE it has a built in DVD player. However, it WAS a floor model, and for some reason, the DVD remote never worked properly. The thugtards did not take the remote.
This morning, before I left for work, I took a tour of my apartment complex...oh, out like a Sunday drive you know? How often do you get the pleasure to stroll through your community? I have been here a year and thought it was time to see what is over on the other side. Not like I was looking for anything in particular (red Malibu) - and not that I found anything. Yet.
No, if I find it I am not going to slash the tires, or beat on the door, or anything of that nature.
Actually, I think I will bake some cookies and put them in a box, and duct tape the box to the car, along with the tv remote and a note, saying, "You will probably need this to go with the tv you stole from me. Hope you enjoy the cookies, neighbor! :)"
Because I am all about building relationships.
~Lisa Marie
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Well...you do the SAME thing!!!!!
I have never claimed to be completely innocent in the demise of my marriage. I have always firmly believed that it takes 2 to make a marriage and 2 to break a marriage.
That being said, I recall so often, when the ex and I would have our spats and issues with each other, it would normally go something like this:
Ex - What's wrong with you? You look mad or upset...
Red - Well, I am pissed because it seems like you never listen to me. I feel you would rather go golfing than spend anytime with me, based on your actions. When you are here, you don't ask me about me. It appears you feel as though EVERYTHING is about you.
Ex - Well, you do the SAME THING.
Let me pause by saying that this is where the conversation generally stops. Why, you ask? Because I have brought to the table valid issues (from where I stand), and although they might sound like small potatoes, apparently there is some problem.
I openly and honestly bring my issues to the table, and the response is:
NOT, "Oh, I am so sorry you feel that way. Let's look at each issue and see if we can rectify why you feel this way".
NOT, "I am sorry I have made you feel like I never listen"
NOT, "I am sorry I have made you feel less than important to me and that I never have time for you"
OH NOOOOOOOOOOOO
We get, "Well you do the same thing."
I don't understand someone asking you what's wrong, APPEARING to be genuinely interested, and then when you tell them, ALL of the things you bring to the table are just scoffed at, and waved away, or worse yet, being turned around on YOU.
The original hurt or issue I brought up to begin with, does not get looked into, NO, it gets turned around on ME, and all the things *I* have done wrong.
And why?
Because 'we' as humans, I think, have a hard time owning up to the fact we have faults, and that we have faulted someone. It is easier and saves our own face to turn the issues they have brought up, back on them. As opposed to owning up to hurting someone's feelings that they have shared with us, and validating the way they feel by looking at our own actions or lack of actions, we instead, make them feel bad for even bringing it up.
My mom used to do this. She used to say, "Oh you can tell me anything" - yeah - and then when I did, if I had a problem with her saying something derogatory to me or about me, she would say, "Well, YOU joke around all the time".
huh - that doesn't make it ok to hurt me.
The ex and I, when we would have arguments, took on that same pattern.
Perhaps that's why I never say anything to anyone. Most people don't know my business and I don't offer it up.
I rarely tell people what I really feel, because if I do, it backfires.
It's funny to me, most of us know we are not perfect. We accept it. But yet, when someone happens to point out when we have faulted someone else, we are the first to claim, "Nope, I only did that because you did this, so it's your fault".
~Lisa Marie
That being said, I recall so often, when the ex and I would have our spats and issues with each other, it would normally go something like this:
Ex - What's wrong with you? You look mad or upset...
Red - Well, I am pissed because it seems like you never listen to me. I feel you would rather go golfing than spend anytime with me, based on your actions. When you are here, you don't ask me about me. It appears you feel as though EVERYTHING is about you.
Ex - Well, you do the SAME THING.
Let me pause by saying that this is where the conversation generally stops. Why, you ask? Because I have brought to the table valid issues (from where I stand), and although they might sound like small potatoes, apparently there is some problem.
I openly and honestly bring my issues to the table, and the response is:
NOT, "Oh, I am so sorry you feel that way. Let's look at each issue and see if we can rectify why you feel this way".
NOT, "I am sorry I have made you feel like I never listen"
NOT, "I am sorry I have made you feel less than important to me and that I never have time for you"
OH NOOOOOOOOOOOO
We get, "Well you do the same thing."
I don't understand someone asking you what's wrong, APPEARING to be genuinely interested, and then when you tell them, ALL of the things you bring to the table are just scoffed at, and waved away, or worse yet, being turned around on YOU.
The original hurt or issue I brought up to begin with, does not get looked into, NO, it gets turned around on ME, and all the things *I* have done wrong.
And why?
Because 'we' as humans, I think, have a hard time owning up to the fact we have faults, and that we have faulted someone. It is easier and saves our own face to turn the issues they have brought up, back on them. As opposed to owning up to hurting someone's feelings that they have shared with us, and validating the way they feel by looking at our own actions or lack of actions, we instead, make them feel bad for even bringing it up.
My mom used to do this. She used to say, "Oh you can tell me anything" - yeah - and then when I did, if I had a problem with her saying something derogatory to me or about me, she would say, "Well, YOU joke around all the time".
huh - that doesn't make it ok to hurt me.
The ex and I, when we would have arguments, took on that same pattern.
Perhaps that's why I never say anything to anyone. Most people don't know my business and I don't offer it up.
I rarely tell people what I really feel, because if I do, it backfires.
It's funny to me, most of us know we are not perfect. We accept it. But yet, when someone happens to point out when we have faulted someone else, we are the first to claim, "Nope, I only did that because you did this, so it's your fault".
~Lisa Marie
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Untitled - 1996
You stand in a crowd, but you're really alone
Showing only your happiness, your fear isn't known.
I sit off to the side, watching in wonder
How they don't see your tears, your anger like thunder.
I wonder if you see me sitting off to the side,
Covering myself and trying to hide
My open soul, so you won't see,
How tormented I am. How I can be
Afraid of you, afraid of it all.
I'm trying to wait, trying to stall
So I won't completely leave you yet.
I am holding on so I won't forget
About the times we had, the life we shared;
All that time I thought you cared.
I turn away as you glance at me.
Not letting you know, not letting you see.
But in a way it seems like you know
That I am trying to let you go.
I look over again to study your face
Once full of peace, full of grace.
There was a time when you smiled all day
When you always had something funny to say.
It's hard to talk, or get through at all.
As I come closer you build up your wall.
To separate us, so you can forget
How you promised you would never regret.
But I understand and my heart is young
And somewhere out there, must be someone
Made for the mold, to fit perfectly
To fill your desires, who makes you happy.
I will walk away, my head held high
To young to take revenge, to old to run and cry
If you love someone, you must accept who they are
Not how you can make them, or change their hearts.
Time is so short, you only get a chance
To feel love's warmth, and unmask the romance.
Next time you fall, give a little more
So you don't hurt her feelings as you close the door.
I can't meet your expectations of what you want me to be
So it's better now that I have set you free.
LMS - 1996
Showing only your happiness, your fear isn't known.
I sit off to the side, watching in wonder
How they don't see your tears, your anger like thunder.
I wonder if you see me sitting off to the side,
Covering myself and trying to hide
My open soul, so you won't see,
How tormented I am. How I can be
Afraid of you, afraid of it all.
I'm trying to wait, trying to stall
So I won't completely leave you yet.
I am holding on so I won't forget
About the times we had, the life we shared;
All that time I thought you cared.
I turn away as you glance at me.
Not letting you know, not letting you see.
But in a way it seems like you know
That I am trying to let you go.
I look over again to study your face
Once full of peace, full of grace.
There was a time when you smiled all day
When you always had something funny to say.
It's hard to talk, or get through at all.
As I come closer you build up your wall.
To separate us, so you can forget
How you promised you would never regret.
But I understand and my heart is young
And somewhere out there, must be someone
Made for the mold, to fit perfectly
To fill your desires, who makes you happy.
I will walk away, my head held high
To young to take revenge, to old to run and cry
If you love someone, you must accept who they are
Not how you can make them, or change their hearts.
Time is so short, you only get a chance
To feel love's warmth, and unmask the romance.
Next time you fall, give a little more
So you don't hurt her feelings as you close the door.
I can't meet your expectations of what you want me to be
So it's better now that I have set you free.
LMS - 1996
My p*nis itches!?!!?!?!?!?
Motherhood....ahhhhhhhhhh
I never wanted to be a mom. There. I said it, will say it again. I never wanted to be a mom. There was a time that after I got married, and got the "first place", a child was "naturally" what was supposed to come next. I have never had that maternal instinct....but, I felt that rush of the biological clock ticking, so that was what I was to do. Produce.
The 'lil man' was an oops. Wasn't planned. Was a surprise. After all the 'normal' mishaps and happenings you have with raising a baby boy, they soon begin to lose the "baby-ness" and turn into boys.
And I love it - any of the uncertainties I have had about myself as a mother cease when I am in the car with the lil man and he busts out with his rendition of "Baby Got Back"...and I look at him in the rearview mirror grinning from ear to ear as he car dances (like his mama) to the tune.
The 'boyness' of my son becomes more realized when he makes "manly" discoveries.
We were in the car about 2 years ago, he was 6, and he was quietly sitting in the back seat. We drive over some railroad tracks and all of a sudden, he is giggling uncontrollably - enough to make me laugh aloud. I ask him what is so funny and he goes, "Well mommy it tickles!!!!!"
Ok, I'll bite. What tickles?
He says through his laughter, "The railroad tracks tickles my penis Mommy!!!!!"
LMAO!!!! I snorted. Could not help it. The discovery of the penis is a phenomenon to most humans. Men never seem to get over the discovery. There are many names for the object. I, for one, am a die hard "real namer" when it comes to my child. He knows he has a penis, he knows thats what its called. Of course that can lead to the occaisional supermarket line commentary when the lil man will announce, "Geez Mommy!!! My penis itches!!!!"
Tonight, we are sitting on the floor, playing an exciting game of Monopoly, and all of a sudden, he jumps up and says, "MOMMY! Hang on!!!!"
"Ok," I say, "you need to use the bathroom?"
"No WAY!!! My penis has attached itself to something and I have to go pull it off!!!!"
Um....I got nothing
No, I did not ask what it attached to (since there was nothing surrounding him, and nothing he was hanging on to) and I do think that SOME things...you just don't want to know.
Ahhhhhh....motherhood
~Lisa Marie
I never wanted to be a mom. There. I said it, will say it again. I never wanted to be a mom. There was a time that after I got married, and got the "first place", a child was "naturally" what was supposed to come next. I have never had that maternal instinct....but, I felt that rush of the biological clock ticking, so that was what I was to do. Produce.
The 'lil man' was an oops. Wasn't planned. Was a surprise. After all the 'normal' mishaps and happenings you have with raising a baby boy, they soon begin to lose the "baby-ness" and turn into boys.
And I love it - any of the uncertainties I have had about myself as a mother cease when I am in the car with the lil man and he busts out with his rendition of "Baby Got Back"...and I look at him in the rearview mirror grinning from ear to ear as he car dances (like his mama) to the tune.
The 'boyness' of my son becomes more realized when he makes "manly" discoveries.
We were in the car about 2 years ago, he was 6, and he was quietly sitting in the back seat. We drive over some railroad tracks and all of a sudden, he is giggling uncontrollably - enough to make me laugh aloud. I ask him what is so funny and he goes, "Well mommy it tickles!!!!!"
Ok, I'll bite. What tickles?
He says through his laughter, "The railroad tracks tickles my penis Mommy!!!!!"
LMAO!!!! I snorted. Could not help it. The discovery of the penis is a phenomenon to most humans. Men never seem to get over the discovery. There are many names for the object. I, for one, am a die hard "real namer" when it comes to my child. He knows he has a penis, he knows thats what its called. Of course that can lead to the occaisional supermarket line commentary when the lil man will announce, "Geez Mommy!!! My penis itches!!!!"
Tonight, we are sitting on the floor, playing an exciting game of Monopoly, and all of a sudden, he jumps up and says, "MOMMY! Hang on!!!!"
"Ok," I say, "you need to use the bathroom?"
"No WAY!!! My penis has attached itself to something and I have to go pull it off!!!!"
Um....I got nothing
No, I did not ask what it attached to (since there was nothing surrounding him, and nothing he was hanging on to) and I do think that SOME things...you just don't want to know.
Ahhhhhh....motherhood
~Lisa Marie
Captured Light Studios Shoot #2 (Charles Letbetter) April 24, 2010
Sometimes you wonder if the sequel is going to be comparable to the original. I wondered that with this shoot with Charles. We set out to shoot 2 sets. The first, entitled "Health and Coffee" has been posted and blogged about. Wonderfully calming set of shots. And I got to wear sweatpants and a sports bra!!!! :)
The one thing I appreciate about Charles, is his ability not to waste your fucking time. I do not hesitate to squeeze a shoot in with him on a day I have too much to do, because when he tells me it won't take long, I know that means that we will spend more time sitting around gossiping like a couple of old biddies than we will shooting.
But don't let that fool you. The great artists are not found in the length of time it takes to execute.
I really like the dark feeling of these pictures, and the concept behind it. Exploring your darker side is a gift many of us don't get to embrace often enough.
Click on the link, enjoy the story, take in the beauty of the pictures, leave comments for the artist...I know he appreciates them
~Lisa Marie
http://www.charlesiletbetter.com/StoriedPictures/2010/05/02/heartless/
The one thing I appreciate about Charles, is his ability not to waste your fucking time. I do not hesitate to squeeze a shoot in with him on a day I have too much to do, because when he tells me it won't take long, I know that means that we will spend more time sitting around gossiping like a couple of old biddies than we will shooting.
But don't let that fool you. The great artists are not found in the length of time it takes to execute.
I really like the dark feeling of these pictures, and the concept behind it. Exploring your darker side is a gift many of us don't get to embrace often enough.
Click on the link, enjoy the story, take in the beauty of the pictures, leave comments for the artist...I know he appreciates them
~Lisa Marie
http://www.charlesiletbetter.com/StoriedPictures/2010/05/02/heartless/
Was that a trickle down my leg?????
It was a dark and stormy night. Attempting to make it from the house to my car without being completely soaked would prove to be an exercise of magical magnitude. Bidding a fond farewell to the friends in the doorway, I take off in a run across the long driveway. (This run, mind you, would be comparable to what you would call a "girl-run" - in high school, when boys would taunt each other with the "You run like a girl!!!!", what they were picturing was me, arms bent at the elbow, sticking out east and west, hands limply flailing, while feet executed the tiny steps of swiftly scampering across hot coals - YES, I ran like a girl)
Once in my car, wiping the rain from my face, turning on the heat, getting situated, plugging my cell in the charger, etc....
I realize as I see the house lights turn off, that I did not bother to ask for directions on how to get out of the housing edition. I do not venture to Noblesville often; navigating around the town, as it is on the smaller side, I am pretty ok with, but sticking me into the middle of a housing edition, in the dark, while it was raining....
Hey, I am a smart girl, I am certainly not put off by my predictament. I back out and procede to turn in the direction I "feel" I need to go. Let me pause here by saying, the houses in this particular development are all too big for their own good, all have finely manicured lawns, and I am sure are full of enough botox and collagen for a small army of bimbos. So yes, at the wee hours of dawn, in the rain, they all look the same.
Getting to the end of the street, I make the decision, right or left, ok, we will go right, and procede to what I think would be the exit. Nope, court. Damn. Ok turn around in the court, go back the other way...past the street I had turned from, ugh, court again. Make the turn around. Turn back onto the street I had turned from.
I would like to tell you that going the opposite way led me to quickly find the exit of the development.
I would like to tell you that the rain stopped and I was able to see.
I would like to tell you that for the duration of the 25 MINUTES I was driving around that FUCKING housing edition, that I did NOT have to pee.
I would also like to tell you that at one point, I did not feel like Chevy Chase in European Vacation, driving around Big Ben ("look kids! Big Ben! Parliament"), or that I did not talk to myself and cuss at anyone who happened to be listening...
BUT
I cannot do that. Because then I would also not have to admit that while one part of me BELIEVES that I drove around this swanky Noblesville development for 25 minutes, discovering new streets, ALWAYS ending up hitting another court and having to TURN AROUND - another part of me actually believes I was just driving around the SAME 3 or 4 courts.
As I pulled over to the side of the road, panting as though I had just raced the Indy 500, or completed a journey worthy of a medal, my gas light comes on.
FUCKITALLTOFUCKINGHELL!!!!!!
As a woman, one of the worst qualities I have comes out in times of stress. Please don't fault me for it.
The "what-ifs". This arrives as a means, NOT to diffuse the current situation (why would we want to do that?) but to magnify it to explosive proportions.
What if I pulled over to the side and pissed in someone's yard? Would an alarm go off? Would security lights come on? Would the sprinklers go off???
What if I piss my pants? Can you get a pee smell out of upolstery? Can I resell a car that has been peed in? What if the pee ends up going into the gear shift and shorting out and then my car wont even run, and I will have to call a tow truck and explain that I peed my pants, and the pee was so great, it shorted out my car when it seeped into the gear shift and I can't tell you where I am, or how to find me except I am in a housing edition in Noblesville with 1000 fucking courts!!!!
What if I run out of gas in the housing edition? Will I have to take off on foot with my gas can to try and find a way out to find a gas station to get gas? What if I can't find my way back?
As I sit in my car literally decomposing on my own what ifs, I hear in the distance the low steady sound of Chariots of Fire beginning to echo. I reason, I have passed the point of crazy and that the pee has now welled up into into my brain and caused me delusions.
I have heard that the body, in times of great detriment, can have a surge of adrenaline, enough to lift cars off of people, or kick an unkickable ass....
As the Chariots of Fire played in my head, the determination to make it out alive overtook my body. I gunned the engine and put the car in drive, closed my eyes and layed into that gas pedal. I just WENT. Knocked over trees and mailboxes and believe I crashed through a pool house or two...but the next thing I knew, I was back onto 146th Street....smiling, as I looked in the rearview mirror at the fence I had crashed through.
Seeing lights in the distance, I knew THIS time, I would NOT run out of gas. THIS time, the swanky Noblesville neighborhood would not get the best of me. THIS time, I was victorious!!!!
Fuck. Was that a trickle down my leg.....
Once in my car, wiping the rain from my face, turning on the heat, getting situated, plugging my cell in the charger, etc....
I realize as I see the house lights turn off, that I did not bother to ask for directions on how to get out of the housing edition. I do not venture to Noblesville often; navigating around the town, as it is on the smaller side, I am pretty ok with, but sticking me into the middle of a housing edition, in the dark, while it was raining....
Hey, I am a smart girl, I am certainly not put off by my predictament. I back out and procede to turn in the direction I "feel" I need to go. Let me pause here by saying, the houses in this particular development are all too big for their own good, all have finely manicured lawns, and I am sure are full of enough botox and collagen for a small army of bimbos. So yes, at the wee hours of dawn, in the rain, they all look the same.
Getting to the end of the street, I make the decision, right or left, ok, we will go right, and procede to what I think would be the exit. Nope, court. Damn. Ok turn around in the court, go back the other way...past the street I had turned from, ugh, court again. Make the turn around. Turn back onto the street I had turned from.
I would like to tell you that going the opposite way led me to quickly find the exit of the development.
I would like to tell you that the rain stopped and I was able to see.
I would like to tell you that for the duration of the 25 MINUTES I was driving around that FUCKING housing edition, that I did NOT have to pee.
I would also like to tell you that at one point, I did not feel like Chevy Chase in European Vacation, driving around Big Ben ("look kids! Big Ben! Parliament"), or that I did not talk to myself and cuss at anyone who happened to be listening...
BUT
I cannot do that. Because then I would also not have to admit that while one part of me BELIEVES that I drove around this swanky Noblesville development for 25 minutes, discovering new streets, ALWAYS ending up hitting another court and having to TURN AROUND - another part of me actually believes I was just driving around the SAME 3 or 4 courts.
As I pulled over to the side of the road, panting as though I had just raced the Indy 500, or completed a journey worthy of a medal, my gas light comes on.
FUCKITALLTOFUCKINGHELL!!!!!!
As a woman, one of the worst qualities I have comes out in times of stress. Please don't fault me for it.
The "what-ifs". This arrives as a means, NOT to diffuse the current situation (why would we want to do that?) but to magnify it to explosive proportions.
What if I pulled over to the side and pissed in someone's yard? Would an alarm go off? Would security lights come on? Would the sprinklers go off???
What if I piss my pants? Can you get a pee smell out of upolstery? Can I resell a car that has been peed in? What if the pee ends up going into the gear shift and shorting out and then my car wont even run, and I will have to call a tow truck and explain that I peed my pants, and the pee was so great, it shorted out my car when it seeped into the gear shift and I can't tell you where I am, or how to find me except I am in a housing edition in Noblesville with 1000 fucking courts!!!!
What if I run out of gas in the housing edition? Will I have to take off on foot with my gas can to try and find a way out to find a gas station to get gas? What if I can't find my way back?
As I sit in my car literally decomposing on my own what ifs, I hear in the distance the low steady sound of Chariots of Fire beginning to echo. I reason, I have passed the point of crazy and that the pee has now welled up into into my brain and caused me delusions.
I have heard that the body, in times of great detriment, can have a surge of adrenaline, enough to lift cars off of people, or kick an unkickable ass....
As the Chariots of Fire played in my head, the determination to make it out alive overtook my body. I gunned the engine and put the car in drive, closed my eyes and layed into that gas pedal. I just WENT. Knocked over trees and mailboxes and believe I crashed through a pool house or two...but the next thing I knew, I was back onto 146th Street....smiling, as I looked in the rearview mirror at the fence I had crashed through.
Seeing lights in the distance, I knew THIS time, I would NOT run out of gas. THIS time, the swanky Noblesville neighborhood would not get the best of me. THIS time, I was victorious!!!!
Fuck. Was that a trickle down my leg.....
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