The Lisa Life

First Kiss

I totally swiped this from Beth.  I hope she doesn't mind.

What was your first kiss? 

I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours.

After reading all of Beth's comments, I related mine and couldn't remember his name.  It suddenly came to me.  (I think the bloody mary helped jog my memory).  Bryan Michaels!  Rollerama.  I was in 7th grade and he was in 9th and I was so in love.

In retrospect, he was short, he couldn't skate very well and he always wore the same brown velour vee neck sweater rollerskating.  He broke up with me (which meant he started skating couples with my friend Kelly instead of me) and I have no idea what happened to him.

But hey!  That's what Google is for, right?  To find out how many of your old boyfriends landed in prison!

Fluffy

Dear and gentle readers, I know I said a couple days ago we were going to get back into the true crime thing, and we are.

But it's the week-end.  Let's be fluffy again for a couple days.

Fluffy is good unless it's your ass someone is talking about.

Face Lift

No, I'm not getting one.  At least not for several years.  Turning 40, feeling vain, and insecure, a face lift wouldn't be totally out of the question if oh, say I won the Mega Millions.  (NOTE: I won two bucks today.  Where am I going to retire?  The choices astound me.) 

I'm thinking about making some changes on the blog. A face lift of sorts.  I enjoy writing about true crime, it's one of my hobbies, and I have a couple little projects that have been percolating in my pointy little head for quite a while I am expanding on.  My crime entries seem fairly popular.

The entries I do related to local happenings are also quite popular.

And sometimes, I just like to indulge myself and talk about Me, Me and More Me.

So, dear and gentle readers, do I make some changes or not?  If so, which direction should I go in?

Regardless of what you decide, I am coloring my hair before my birthday.

In Which The Author Goes Camping

Dear and gentle readers, I am sure you read that title and assumed that I meant relocating at a swanky hotel with an in-room jacuzzi, twenty-four hour room service and an outdoor pool with the ubiquitous cabana boy who brings me non-stop Mimosas,  right?  Those nails don't camp!

The Queen Of England Does Not Camp Nor Does Lisa.

I hate to break it to you, maybe that old prune doesn't camp, but this younger, better preserved prune does and has.  I've seen the Grateful Dead 18 times, how could I not have camped at some point?  This time, however, I am fairly certain I will not be coercing anyone who has just taken LSD to set up my tent, which will fall down approximately every 18 minutes during the night.  This person then decided they should jump the fire several times because you know, fire looks so inviting when you are tripping.

When I lived in PA, I used to go camping all the time, around the Delaware Water Gap, The Appalachian Trail and even in New York State.  Strap on a backpack, clinking with the beer cans, my trusty hiking boots on, smeared with DEET, illegally bought in Canada by someone, tromping through some woods up some trail.  Yes, boys and girls, Miss Priss pissed in the woods upon occasion and took showers in a river.  That Ivory really does float, you know.

A guy I work with owns property in Mt. Pleasant.  He and his wife invited us to come up this week-end.  They are on the Shiawassee River and it's a beautiful spot and yes, I will be sleeping in a tent.  I will be bathing in the river.  As long as I have brushed teeth and clean hair, I am good to go.  Thankfully, there is a two-seater toilet accommodation.  Hopefully, Mr. Stinky Pants, a.k.a Martin, will not choose to occupy the second seat while I am occupying the first.  I don't think the two-seater is equipped with a gas mask.

Yes, dear and gentle readers, there will be pictures of me camping.  Why do I have the feeling that Chip, my co-worker, and Martin, both of whom are still 12, mentally, will take great delight in Mia's flashlight, which in in the shape of a dog and when you open it's mouth to turn the light on, it barks?

What do I plan on doing?  Besides a whole lot of nothing?  Sitting by the river, reading the transcripts from the grand jury proceedings of the State of California v. Cameron Brown. 

Good times, kids, good times.

I Feel Like Paris Hilton!

Well, okay, not really.  I'm not an unnatural blonde who wears fake colored contacts, has rather obvious plastic surgery ("Hello, I'm Paris Hilton and these are my new breasts!  I call them left and right but I get them confused!")  although check, my tan is at least half fake although it's not the orange spray a la Oompa.  I do lay out in the sun every week-end it's above 65 degrees in Michigan.

Martin's folks have friends named Joe and Wendy visiting from Trenton, Ontario.  Someone (Martin) had the idea to take them out to dinner at the newest "Irish" pub in Hartland.  We'd been there once before and it was eh, okay.  The British Isles in general are not famous for their cuisine  (Why do you think they all drink so much? So they don't have to taste the damn food!)  Chris Whatever the name is that I can never remember Pub has a nice atmosphere, though.

After ordering our respective drinks and chatting, Martin and I repaired to the bar to have a cigarette.  (NOTE:  I was warned in a friendly way that really, I didn't need to blog this, so it will be very anonymous, really.)  Right when I started to light my smoke, another patron said, "Excuse me.  I read your blog!" 

I knew the day was coming.  I would be outted locally.  I blushed like crazy.  It was all good, though.

I love the internet.

I felt my fleeting brush with fame.  Is this how Paris Hilton feels when she falls off the table, dancing on her freakishly large feet in those awful heels with her dress going over her head?  Not that all the world isn't already her gynecologist, but you know.

Stacy!

Sunday evening, Martin, Mia and I headed out to meet up with Stacy and Sweet Pea.  This was totally normal and it only dawned on me when we were about half way there that I've never met Stacy in person.  I've known her for at least 4 years and we've talked on the phone but this was our first face to face meeting. 

It went great!  Mia and Sweet Pea hit it off, in fact, when we told Mia she was going to meet Sweet Pea, that is all she repeated, over and over and over again on the way there. "Go see Sweet Pea.  Go see Sweet Pea!  Go see Sweet Pea now!" with ever increasing volume.  It started out incredibly charming and cute and by the time we arrived, we wondered if she would ever again say anything else and if we should have told her in the first place.

Aren't they adorable?  Mia is sure to make America's Next Model 2015, just check out her accessories, the stretchy headband, the plastic "pearls" and the ever-fashionable Strawberry Shortcake Velcro sandals that light up and match nothing else in her wardrobe, least of all the dress she is wearing.  Sweet!

Oh and for the fans, just so we don't disappoint.  Here we are, cocktails in hand.

Cocktails With An Old Friend

One of my favorite co-workers at the soul-sucking dealership was Jen.  We had a lot of fun outside of work but had lost touch.

Through mutual friends, Jen discovered my blog and started reading and emailed me.  We hooked up last night for drinks and Jen is still gorgeous, still has a great sense of humor and still drinks funny fou fou drinks (Malibu and pineapple, echhhh!)

We gossiped.  We gossiped a lot.  It was great fun.  We reminisced about my 30th birthday party.  We talked about my upcoming 40th, which will also be celebrated excessively. (More on that later.)

We also pondered how small this county really is and how we have so many connections through people who know people who know people we know. 

We also laughed a lot about some of the other people in the bar.  A late middle-aged woman dressed in Goth style with a studded collar, a stud in her chin and a huge iron cross necklace.  ("What's up with the cross?"  Jen asked.  "Is that to ward off evil spirits and vampires?")  We laughed at the two women, twentysomethings, dressed in strapless tops with boobs straining.  Hello girls, it's February in Michigan, you look ridiculous, want to borrow a sweater?

I'm glad to have reconnected with Jen.  Good times, baby, good times.

The Tragic Ending Of The Ricky Holland Case

I've been following the Ricky Holland disappearance since the beginning.  It interested me not only because he lived not too far from me but from the adoption aspect as well.  I was puzzled that his case did not receive the national attention many missing child cases do.  America's Most Wanted did a segment and Nancy Grace featured him during her show, Court TV had him featured on their missing children section, but that was pretty much it for national exposure.

I was suspicious about his parents from the beginning.  Ricky had some serious emotional problems and would have been a very difficult child to parent.  To successfully parent him would have taken years of family therapy and unswerving commitment.  Generally speaking, the adoptive parents for children with these problems have special training to learn how to effectively deal with these problems.

I planned on doing a long post about Ricky, but Trish has voiced my own feelings so well already.  Read about it here along with updates.  She's done a great job following this case.

The only other thing on my mind is how on earth the Hollands could have passed a home study and why another adoption was finalized while Ricky was still missing.  I hope someone along the food chain involved in this adoption takes some responsibility.

Housecleaning The Blog

Writing a blog takes a certain level of dedication, discipline and creativity.  Trying to find something interesting that makes your readers want to return is sometimes difficult and sometimes damn near impossible, especially on a daily basis.

I have a wide variety of interests and my sis accuses me of being "all over the place" on my blog.  Mind you, that doesn't stop her from reading it. (Hi Sandi, love you!  And you are just as all over the place as me, so shut the hell up!)

If something intrigues me enough, I will happily research it and figure it out and write about it.  I like to write.  I think it's something I can be good at and when I'm good, I'm pretty damn good.  I wouldn't have the return readership I do if I couldn't string together a sentence and make it amusing or interesting in some way.

I recently went through a rough time in my life and I blogged about it.  These posts have since been removed because although they were cathartic and therapeutic then, I'm moving forward and I want my blog to reflect that.

Although I receive a fair amount of comments on my blog, I also have received many many emails off the blog regarding entries I've written that have touched readers in one way or another.  The most common of these regard cold criminal cases, adoption and the history of the county I live in. 

I've done some housecleaning on the blog and swept away some things that, although they were timely when I wrote them, do not reflect my feelings so much now.  And no, I didn't take them down because I am "ashamed" or "embarrassed" or they "were not a real reflection of my writing ability".  I took them down because it's time to move forward in a positive manner.  I'm a survivor and and a problem solving type of person and it's time for me to move past that.

I have two offline writing projects I am working on and I intend to get much more serious about them both and devote more time to them.  I also intend to get more serious about my blog (which I am already quite serious about and rather proud of) and try to post something at least every other day.

Dear and gentle readers, I will always entertain suggestions for subject matter, as well.  And I'd like to say thank you to everyone who lurks, comments, or reads.  Even those of you who hate me, if nothing else, you are driving up my site meter.  NOTE: Asshat, if you don't like something, don't read it again.  Pretty simple concept, isn't it?

Random Notes

Isn't it annoying when blogs that you regularly read don't update regularly?  I'd never do that!

*****

My husband has started his own blog, One If By Land, Two If By Sea.  Check it out so he doesn't feel so alone.  Yeah, I'm not into the Patrick O'Brian stuff either, nor C.S. Forester.  Hey, at least he's not reading Clive Kussler or that other guy, who does all the CIA government intrigue type books.  Harrison Ford stars in all the movies.  That guy.  (Husband just informed me, it's Tom Clancy.)

*****

I sent a resume to a local company that was looking for a payroll specialist.  I received a reply back in the form of a four page questionnaire that required essay type answers.  It took me an hour and a half to complete it.  I returned it a week ago today.  I had heard no response whatsoever so today I sent them a polite but pointed email asking if they had scheduled interviews or if the position had been filled.  Still no response.

Sorry, but I just think it is incredibly rude for employers to do this.  At the very least, send out a mass email to all the applicants and let them know the position has been filled.  Common courtesy.

*****

It went from being late Indian Summer here to winter in two days.  We had a couple days this month of over 70 degree weather and today it was in the twenties and I had on my winter coat.  We've even had a few snow flurries, although no accumulation.  Best thing about this winter?  I don't have to deal with the damn snowplowing scheduling.

*****