The Lisa Life

Holiday Fun

Okay, so I am not a blonde.  But other than that, this is me.

I know that somewhere, there is a Twelve Step Program that will advise me to turn this over to my higher power.

http://www.fhmus.com/reporter/truestories/index.html?articleid=24021

I need that.

By the way, there are a lot of us out there.  Lisa Watsons that is.  Could I be a little more generic?

You Know You're From Howell If...

~You ever took swimming lessons as a kid at Thompson Lake at 8 in the morning in June and your lips turned blue because it was so cold. ("Mom, really, I don't need to learn to swim.  Really.  I can float really well.  I won't drown when we go up North to the lake.  Really.  I don't want to take any more swimming lessons.  Really.")

~You know not to call it Howell Lake.  There is no such thing as Howell Lake.  Any time a newcomer says "Howell Lake" you raise an eyebrow and ask, "Now where is exactly is Howell Lake?  Is that in like Tenessee?"

~You've been to Spag's to buy homemade candy or Howell Melon Ice Cream (which is nasty, melon ice cream, pulease).

~You know how to get from Howell to Hell and back.

~You remember when before the new high school was built, the high school was on split sessions.  Better yet, you attended high school during this time. ( I did!)

~ You've ever gone to see a free concert on the old courthouse lawn during the summer on a Friday night and snuck in some beverages.

~You know to avoid downtown like the plague during Melon Fest, Ballon Fest and the Festival of Lights.

~You know the Farmer's Market is really lame and overpriced.

~You can sort of find Robert Miles' old KKK farm, now a Neo Nazi survival training camp. 

~ You can reassure your friends from other ethnic backgrounds that Howell is not really like that anymore and mean it.

~You can remember when there was nowhere in Howell to buy a decent pair of shoes.

~You remember Dancer's clothing store.

~Anthony's Restaurant.  Olive Burger.  Need I say more?

~Consumer's.  They used to keep the cigs next to the jewelry counter and sold Pepsi products (locally bottled at the Howell Pepsi facility) cheap.

~ You remember the first Wal-Mart we had.

~You can remember high school football games played at Page Field.

~You can remember when the Livingston County Press and the Brighton Argus were two separate, albeit similar, papers.

~Dan's Doughnuts used to be a Tastee Freeze.  I had my first taco there with my mom.

~The Howell Theatre used to be a dollar.

~ The sleazy Red Apple Bar used to be a A & W.

~ Kroger's used to be where Big Lots is now.

~The Nugget Restaurant.

Oh. My. God.  I am so freaking old.  I have lived here far far too long.

The Spirit Of Giving

With the holiday season fast upon us, I can only reflect upon those in need. For 13 years running, I participated in the Salvation Army's Adopt A Family program. You volunteer to provide a nice holiday for a family in need. It always tickled me to get a family with at least one child. The families needs were never extravagant. Some of them included: a new pair of sweat pants and socks for mom; a pair of boots and a winter coat for dad; a doll for the little girl. Cleaning products. Gift cards for the grocery store.

This year, we have been so broke I was wondering at times if I needed to sign my family up for the Salvation Army Adopt A Family program.

We've gotten over that hump mostly.

I am disappointed I wasn't in the position to help out another family, though. Christmas is a jolly merry time that is totally disheartening to so many people who are lacking some basic things like shelter, knowing where the next meal is coming from, wondering how to pay for heat and get a coat for the kid for winter. No matter how depressed I get about my own situation, I am thankful that I have a house I co-own with the bank, I can afford groceries and heat and even if I can't give my kids the spectacular type of gift giving Christmas I would like to, they will both get something and most importantly, they both know they are loved and cherished all year round. We will eat a nice meal and enjoy our time together. That is more precious than any RC car or doll can ever be. That is what they will always remember.

When you give your money to some national charitable organization, think twice. Think about where you live and what you can do to help someone in your own community first of all. It's hard to believe but there are people right here in this country, some of them your neighbors most likely, who can not afford food. There are kids who go hungry every night. There are people who can not afford a place to live.

The American Dream is becoming the American Myth more and more these days.

Think about if you lost your job, your house, your car and you have kids. You have no money for a down payment for an apartment. You have no way to get to an interview for find a new job. Where would you go? Who would you turn to? This is happening right here, right now.

I don't have much, but I can always afford to give a little in hopes that it helps someone out.

America is a World Power third world country. This is a sad fact that too many people choose to blithely ignore.

It's no wonder the holidays trigger lots of family violence and profound depression. After all, we're all supposed to be lavishly gifted and wined and dined. If you pass that Salvation Army bell ringer, if you can only throw in a quarter, do it. I may not have much but I have a lot more than many.

(Puts soapbox away.)

Decorating for the Holidays

We have neighbors who go far above and beyond the call of normal sane duty to decorate for the holidays. 

Indeed, they decorate for every holiday, including Easter (person sized inflatable bunnies with egg baskets frolicking through the yard), Valentine's Day (large red inflatable hearts with lights inside of them), Thanksgiving (person sized inflatable Pilgrims and a turkey that is the same size and gives new meaning to the phrase birds of prey) and Christmas.  Oh my goodness, Christmas.  Fourteen inflatable Grinches. 

I know there are 14 because I had to stop my truck in the middle of the road and count them.   I thought about taking a picture and posting it, but with my lousy luck, my neighbor reads my blog and doesn't know I'm their neighbor and will sue me.

Instead, I present you with this hilarious website that I lifted from Amy.

www.uglychristmaslights.com

Movie Reviews for the Week-End

Martin and Dex and I went to see the Incredibles this week-end.  It was good.  I love Holly Hunter.  Even though she's not from Oklahoma, she's got that flat dead-pan Okie accent.  Such a distinctive voice.  It's not, however, as good as Toy Story I or II or Shreck I or II.  Worth seeing, nonetheless.  The Incredibles is ripe for a sequel, of course.

We also watched with Dexter That Thing You Do.  A cute movie, catchy tune.  Liv Tyler is a beautiful girl.  And why wouldn't she be?  Not a bad actress, either. 

After Martin took Dex back to his dad's house, Martin and I watched Saved.  You must see this film.  It's hilarious in it's implication of the unreality of the Jesus Freak's skewered view of the world.  That part where Mandy Moore's character throws her Bible at another girl and claims she is filled with the love of Jesus is not to be missed.

I strongly recommend chemical enhancement while watching this film.  It has a very subtle message but if you get it, it hits hard.

My Stint As A Heineken Girl

I was a Heineken Girl in college.  I so wish I could find a picture of this but I can't so I can only provide you with a visual.

I am five feet nine and thin.  I was thinner in college.  I had at that point long dyed red hair down to my ass that was curly. 

I wore a bright green skintight dress that was printed with the replica of the Heineken label with green high heels. 

Keep in mind, this was the 80s.  The decade of big hair.  I used to get the front of my hair to stand up by using AquaNet and a Hoover.  (Not really about the Hoover.)

I was paid ten bucks an hour to stand in bars with a big tub of Heineken and sell it.  I also made tips and let me tell you, I made good money for basically doing nothing but standing there looking cute and meeting lots of cute college boys.  I got paid for flirting, basically.

When my dad found out I was doing this (indiscreet roommate), he was horrified.  You would have thought I had become a prostitute. 

Was it demeaning?  Not to me.  I had fun.  At that point in my life, I was pretty damn happy to be getting paid to hang out in cool bars and flirt with cute boys.

If you know me now, you will find this very funny.  I hate beer.  I drink maybe 2 beers a year.  I hated beer then and my substance abuse of choice at that time was weed.

Hey, it was green, too.

You're Doing This To Piss Me Off, Right

December 16, 2004

Part II

You gulp down your dinner like we haven't fed you in a month.  You pant around the house and if a dog could look green you would, with the heaves that must only be described as the need for doggie Prilosec. (Where is that purple motorhome for dogs?) You then proceed into the front room and throw up not only your dinner, but one of my husband's socks. NOTE: You thankfully throw up undigesteted dogfood and said sock right next to my husband's bare vunerable foot.  THANK YOU LORD.

Just what the hell were you thinking, eating a sock?  How do you eat a sock?

You're Doing This To Piss Me Off, Right?

December 16, 2004

At one point in your life, you must have run out of toilet paper at a critical time.  You must have also run out of paper towels at the same critical time. 

As a result, you can not pass up a chance during any trip to the grocery store to buy the industrial size package of either paper towel or toilet paper.  Because of this strange hobby of yours, we have enough paper products at any given time in this house to soak up Lake Michigan. 

However, it would never occur to you to buy a package of paper napkins. 

How To Make Really Great Lasagna

Being the nice Italian girl I am, I love my  lasagna and so does everyone I cook it for.  I have actually had people ask to come over and watch me make it, since they can't duplicate it.  I have never allowed this to happen yet.  I prefer to glide on my laurels and pretend I slave over a hand rolling pasta maker and sweat over the sauce for hours.

Faithful readers, I am a modern Dago type girl.  It's all smoke and mirrors and the right dose of love that goes into cooking.

Okay, for the first time ever.  Here is how I make lasagna.

I don't screw around with making sauce from tomato paste I've sieved myself.  Go buy a big jar of Ragu traditional.  Buy a pound of lean ground beef and a half pound of lean ground pork or veal.  Buy a box of Barilla no bake flat lasagna noodles.  They've got to be Barilla.  It's the best for this.

Okay other than what is listed above, here is what you need.

Half pound fresh grated romano cheese

Fresh grated Parmesan cheese

16 oz Ricotta chesse

2 eggs

Parsely

Oregano

Garlic cloves (a big bunch)

1 medium size white onion

Italian seasoning (you can buy a jar premixed)

2 cups mozzarella

1 cup red wine (Classico Chiante is good)

Fresh ground black pepper

Chop the garlic and onion or put it through the food processer.  Put about a tablespoon of olive oil in a large heavy skillet and heat it til it jumps.  Add the garlic and onion over medium heat and saute until tender.  Add the ground meat and brown slowly, adding garlic powder, Italian Seasonings and pepper to taste.  Drain fat off meat.  Add Ragu and wine and cook over medium high heat until it cooks down and thickens.  Usually about 20 minutes.  Have a glass of wine while you wait and stir.

Spray an oven pan 12x9 or so or one of those handy Glad throw away cooking dishes with Pam, liberally.  Preheat oven to 350. 

Mix the ricotta and parmesan and romano with the egg and parsley in a bowl.

When your sauce has thickened, layer a thin layer on the bottom of the baking dish.  Put a layer of noodles on top.  Put a thick layer of the cheese on top of that, another layer of sauce and another layer of noodles.  Sauce, noodles, cheese, noodles. Repeat until the pan is full.  Should have a thin layer of sauce on top to finish. Use your good judgement. Sprinkle the mozzarella and some more romano and parmesan chesse on top with a few parsley sprinkles.  Cover tightly with tinfoil and bake for 55 minutes.  Have a glass of the Classico Chianti because you deserve it.  Make breaksticks (found in another blog recipe here).  Toss the salad.  After 55 minutes, take the cover off the lasagna and let it brown in the oven until the cheese is toasty.

Let it sit about 15 minutes so it can settle.

Let your palate be your guide.  If you don't like a lot of garlic, ease up on it.  If you love the romano and parmesan chesese, use extra.  Same as the fresh ground pepper. Taste the sauce as it is cooking so you know if you need to add.  (You can buy the nifty pepper mills now in the grocery store.)  The most important thing with lasagna is that it is a dish full of the love you show your guests and family. 

Good luck and let me know how it turns out.

Mia's Hair

My daughter is biracial.  She is a beautiful child and I am so thrilled we were able to become her parents.

I struggle mightily with her hair though.  Mia has the worst of both sides.  She has curly hair that gets tangled and matted and she is tender headed. It's also very fine.   If her hair is not done, she looks like no one loves her.

I was at a loss for a long time as to what to do with her hair that would look presentable and cause the least amount of tears for both of us. My husband even checked on prices for getting it professionally braided.  At $20 for 20 minutes with an estimate of 2 hours, I decided I needed to learn how to do this myself.

After lots of searching on the Internet, I found a great website that offered advice regarding children with ethnic hair. 

I've been praciticing and I must admit, tonight her hair actually looked okay, even if one of her ponytails was off balance.  I did the "grease",  I made four ponytails, I braided the ponytails and wrapped them around barettes.  She looks very cute and I was quite proud.  I'm far from professional at this point, but it looks nice.

We'll see how she looks in the morning, and especially in the afternoon after Hat Head. 

I'm surpirsed Social Services hasn't shown up yet because my daughter who does not scream hysterically always does when she sees the dreaded "hair box". 

Tonight, she was trying to pick all the stuff up and put it back in the hair box, as if she was telling me, "We're done now, right?"