The Lisa Life

Long Time Gone

I've been gone for a while, haven't I?  You missed me, didn't you?  Well, tell me you did, at least.  Humor me.

That is not to say that I haven't been writing.  I just haven't been writing here.  You will notice that two fiction pieces I previously posted have vanished, poof, gone like Britney Spears' sanity.  That is because one I just wasn't happy with and it needs to hide for a while until I rework it. The other piece was edited, slashed, hacked to pieces, rearranged, rewritten, edited again by friends and today, I sent it off to two magazines in hopes of getting it into print.  I don't have high expectations, I don't think I'm the next great hope in fiction, but I am proud that I finished it and actually put it into manuscript form and sent it out. 

I am also working on a novel. Yeah yeah yeah, so is every other blogger on earth, right?  I have completed Chapter Five and I'm working on Chapter Six.  It's about a woman whose husband goes down on the Edmund Fitzgerald.  I'm trying to make it as historically accurate as possible and now, I know more about the Fitz that the men who actually crewed the boat probably did. 

I am the featured author in my writer's group next week.  This alternately thrills me (I am an attention whore, after all) and scares me.  I am very insecure about writing fiction.  I never thought I would be good at it but what I've written so far, I think it's pretty good.  My writing group is a great bunch, though, and I trust their judgment and know I'll get good suggestions and feedback.

Other than that, I've been doing my usual things.  Cooking, reading, watching more television than is good for me, hanging out with my mother-in-law and helping her with a few things, letting Mia eat ice cream for lunch.  The usual.

Oh My

Today is my 41st birthday.

Why is 41 so blah when 40 was fun?

When I was in my 20s, 40 seemed absolutely ancient.  A far off rumor.  I could not imagine actually being in my 40s.  I imagined myself sipping decaf, reviewing my stock portfolio, saying, "Please pass the bran muffins."  "Oh yes, dear. Shall we listen to some more Rush Limbaugh?"  I imagined I would be a totally different person, when I could imagine it at all.

I never would have guessed I'd still be listening to the Ramones and eating lots of pizza and thinking Rush Limbaugh is the devil incarnate.

At least I'm not shopping for Corvettes.  I already did that in my 30s.

Where The Hell Have You Been?

I'm not dead in a ditch somewhere.  It's summer and we've been having a beautiful summer and I've been being lazy.

I've read quite a few books.  The Executioner's Song by Norman Mailer and Shot In The Heart by Mikal Gilmore, both chronicling Gary Gilmore's life from two very different perspectives.  Both are incredibly well-written and heartbreaking in their own ways.  If you read them, I would suggest reading Mailer's work first (and it's a big read, the paperback goes 1054 pages) then Gilmore's, who was Gary's brother. Both will make you think not only about the death penalty but about what happens to a troubled kid who grows up in the prison system and becomes a troubled man.

I revisited Peyton Place by Grace Metalious and it remains a great read.

Right now, I'm in the midst of Mary Queen Of Scotland And The Isles by Margaret George.  It's another big read and I'm not generally real enamored of historical novels, but this one is compelling.  It was written over five years with meticulous research and it portrays an accurate portrait of the struggles of Scotland of the time.  I would next like to tackle The Autobiography Of Henry VIII, also by George, but I have to find it first.  I know I owned it at some point but I sure can't find it.  I'm sure Amazon will have a used copy I can score cheaply.  She also wrote historical novels about Cleopatra and Helen Of Troy and those might be worth checking out as well.

We went to Kensington Metropark for the fireworks.  It was a really nice evening, not too hot, no bugs, and they put on an incredible show.

As a side note, one of my favorite Fourth Of July memories remains the year of the bicentennial, 1976.  My father was playing in a charity golf tournament in Lima, Ohio and my mother and I were watching (or not, how boring is watching golf?) and I could pick out my dad from 100 yards away because he was wearing red white and blue striped golf pants.  They went well with his huge sideburns.  Those crazy 70s you know.

Oh and I seem to have a horrible but hopefully not fatal case of writer's block.  Did you notice?

Seven Useless Facts About Me

Here are the rules: Each player starts with 7 random facts/habits about themselves. People who are tagged need to write on their own blog about their seven things, as well as these rules. You need to choose 7 people to get tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave them a comment telling them that they have been tagged and to read your blog!

I got tagged by Ronni.

1. I am the dogs' mommy.  I don't know how this happened, but it did.  They both follow me everywhere and love up on me.  When Martin and I first met, his dog Max promptly kicked him to the curb and became my dog as well.  Boomer the Puppy at first wanted nothing to do with me, which was disappointing since he was supposed to be my dog.  He has come to his senses and now thinks he is my cat.

2. Fried Green Tomatoes is one of my all time favorite movies.  I loved the book as well.  I first saw it eons ago with my mom in the theater and we bought the tape and watched it many times times together, always crying.  It is available On Demand from Comcast and I watched it last night and indeed, cried my eyes out again, not only because it is poignant but because it made me miss my mom.  Normally, I abhor anything that remotely smells like a chick flick.  I think Kathy Bates would be a lot of fun to hang out with.  Love her in Misery and Delores Claiborne as well.

3.  At the ripe old age of 40, I have started drinking coffee.  Granted, it is more like cafe au lait, at least half milk, but I've moved into the normal world and can drink a cup of coffee without gagging.  Most of the time.

4. My house is not a home until I have houseplants.  I spent a considerable amount of time yesterday re-potting some plants.  They look nice and I think they will take hold really well, the ones Boomer the Puppy didn't try to eat immediately.  So much for that lovely garden box window I have.

5.  When I sit in our office at home, I can look across the street and the neighbors have big beautiful lilac bushes (trees).  You can't really call them bushes, they have to be about 12 feet tall.  Right now, they are full of  luscious purple flowers.  Beautiful.

6.  I am grateful that I have some really wonderful friends.  The entire Misfit crew, my old friends Darr, Sarah, Tammy, Kristi, my friends Beth, Michelle, Ellen.  The dead hooker in the car trunk?  I could call any of them.

7.  I'm not going to tag anyone per se but if you have a blog and you read here, pass it on and let me know in the comments.

Thrift Store Finds

I occasionally like to visit the thrift stores and resale places around town.  Since this was (is) a high ticket area to live and now people are struggling and we have one of the highest unemployment rates in the country here in the Mitten, I've found some nice things, cheap.  Today, I found this adorable sugar bowl and creamer, something I haven't had in a long time.  I love the flowers, leaves and butterflies and the brown on the Monarch butterfly perfectly matches a tea pot my friend Ronni sent me.  Its says, "Hand Painted Pacific Rim, Made In The Phillipines" on the bottom.  I have no idea if these are some great find.  They were $2.99 and I think they are cute as can be.

I also got a cut glass pedestal bowl that I put next to the front door on a table to catch keys, sunglasses and other things in your hand when you walk in the door.  I have an idea that I'd like the front room to be very old-fashioned cheap chic without the frillies. 

I have schemes and ideas and watch too many Flip This House episodes.

Brighton

St. Paul's Chruch in downtown Brighton.  I used to attend this church and both Martin and I were married there, but not to each other.

The Mill Pond.  Still a bit of ice, but that doesn't deter the various water fowl.

The infamous Pink Hotel.  It's not pink anymore and it's not a hotel and it's for sale.  Hopefully whoever buys it will not demolish it and build something else on the site.  It's a Brighton Landmark.

In Other News

I'm a big Christopher Guest fan.  Best In Show, A Mighty Wind, Waiting For Guffman.  I was eagerly anticipating the release of For Your Consideration, his spoof on the Oscars.  I was terribly disappointed when we watched it.  A couple of one liners that were mildly amusing, but really, not funny at all.

We're watching Bubble right now, an obscure B List type of movie that so far is pretty entertaining.

While I was busy not blogging about the Tara Grant case, I finished knitting one scarf I'd been working on sporadically for months and knit three others, all of which I'm quite chuffed about.  I especially hope Harriett loves hers.  I almost kept it for myself.

The business I work  for will be closing at the end of March.  I need another job so if anyone hears about anything, let me know, okay?

It was very warm out today and I had the back door open for a while to let some fresh air in. 

What have you been up to?

Crossroads

And no, I don't mean that allegedly awful movie Britney Spears made which thankfully, I've never had to suffer through.

I'm looking for a job since I don't expect my current position will be around much longer.  I am sick to death of bookkeeping although I know it's what I'm good at.  I am just burned out and bored with it.  No mystery to it, no challenge.

I've actually considered going back to school lately, a thought that kind of horrifies me.  I've thought about getting an MSW but research shows it would take me around five years and the market is saturated. I've thought about becoming a certified nursing assistant because it's a steady job, I like helping people and as long as I'm not the one bleeding, I do okay.  I have no desire to be a nurse but I'd like to do something somewhat altruistic.

I keep thinking, I'm 40 and I don't know what I want to do when I grow up. 

The dilemma is that I really do know what I want to do.  I just need to get the courage to pursue it.  I'd like to be a stay at home mom to Mia and write stuff.  I don't even care if I can sell it or get published, I would just like to try. 

Rather ironic since my blog has been sadly neglected lately.

I think the first step is to make a conscious effort to write something here everyday, be it useless drivel or something worthwhile.

Where is that post on recent developments in the Oakland County Child Killer case?  Where is the featured missing person?  All wandering around in my head and needs to be put out there.

As a side note:  Long ago, I wrote a fictional short story about Courtney Love that is posted here. (If you'd like to read it, it's under the category, Life With Courtney.)  So Courtney has a blog (girlfriend can't spell) but whoops, someone found the story and pointed it out to her in her comments, which she actively participates in.  I don't know if she's read it or not, but I haven't gotten a nasty gram from her yet and that's a good thing, since I'd be scared if Courtney got all mean on me.  Her blog is actually quite charming, who knew?

I'm at a crossroads.  Forty is the new 30 and I'm going to make some decisions that will positively affect me and lead me to what I want to do.  Why am I so scared?  Stick around for the ride, won't you?

If You Have Surgery On Your Foot, That Means You Can't Type, Right?

Hello dear and gentle readers.  I've missed you.  I'm sure many of you have assumed that I must type with my toes, since I haven't updated my blog since before my foot surgery.

Please be assured that I do type with my fingers.  I've just been out of sorts.  The surgery went well.  I will have the gory pictures if I decide to share.  I had 16 or 17 stitches put into my foot along with the screws.  Martin has asked me repeatedly what the screws are made out of; plastic? metal? steel?  I don't know because I really don't want to know.  I like to imagine that they are titanium and wonder if they will make the metal detector at the airport go off.  My mom had several hip replacements and had to carry a little card in her wallet that explained that the material used in her hip replacement made the metal detector go off, versus my little tiny mom packing heat under her sensibly tailored traveling blazer.

I ditched the crutches the second day and the surgical boot the third.  Screw that nonsense.  My foot still looks like a plump and many purple-hued sausage but I can wear one pair of cute retro sneakers.   They go so well with my slacks for work and make me look like I'm going to take a power walk around the industrial park I work at during lunch hour.  Except it wouldn't be a power walk, it would be more like a power limp or lurch since my foot still gets sore pretty quickly and hey, did I mention I drive a car with a manual transmission?

I got a really great Christmas card from my friend Nadine that had a coaster-sized mouse pad tucked into it.  The mouse pad has a picture of a lady with some seriously nice gams ending in some hot red high heels.  The caption says, "Its all about the shoes."  And that inspires me because all my cute shoes will be out of the back of the closet this spring and back on my feet where they belong.

Lots has been in the news about the Oakland County Child Killer case and I have an entry with my humble opinions rattling around in my pointy head. 

So, yeah, that's what going on with me.

Things To Do In Brighton When You're Dead

Tomorrow I am having my bunion surgery.  I'm a little nervous about it.  I'm getting two screws put into my foot, after all.

I am not, however, planning on dying. 

I know I've been a bit melodramatic about this.  I do appreciate all the good wishes.  I don't think there is any precedence of bunion surgery having a high fatality rate, though.

Things I Need To Do:

1) Clean the kitchen and take out the trash.

2) Vacuum.

3) Take off all my nail polish.

4) Take off all my jewelry.

I can have one cup of tea, light on sugar tomorrow before 8 a.m.  Then, not so much as a tic tac can cross my lips.  I'm a grazer.  This is going to be really hard.  I get crabby when I don't eat.

I got a roll of film so I'll take some pictures.  You can share the glamor.  I still can't find the cord to my father-in-laws fancy digital.  (He's getting a bit pissed about it and I don't blame him.)

Think good thoughts for me but really, I'm going to be fine, if a bit cranky and dopey.