~ lisa's life ~

i have moved - this time for good!

2010-07-22T08:48:00.002-04:00

Change your bookmarks, update your Google Reader, and please join me at my new blog:

limelight - the blog

All of my archived posts have been moved over to the new site, so don't worry that you'll miss anything. See you there!

frustration

2010-03-31T21:20:00.002-04:00

Sadie sniffs a crocus while I photograph it for my wallpaper.

I have been trying to make healthy lifestyle changes - to take off some poundage, get in shape with my personal trainer at the gym, and eat more wholesome foods. I was on a good course of action when I met Paul in July. You know how you gain weight when you first get into a relationship? Not only did Paul and I eat out all the time, but we also explored our love of beer by checking out local breweries and going to beer festivals. It was all so happy and romantic and fun . . . until the day I could barely button my favorite pair of pinstriped trousers.

Suddenly I saw where all those pints of Detroit Dwarf, Huma Lupa Licious, Hopslam, Bell's Brown Ale, and all the pub burgers, onion rings, giant plates of creamy pasta, and platters of sesame chicken went. Right here. Pasted to my body like a lumpy sticky note that screamed "what the hell have you done?!"

So I started going to the gym 4-5 times a week, three of those days with my trainer. I ate healthy food, measured my portions, and really enjoyed feeling lighter and stronger. But life has a way of stomping on your plans.

Last November and December, I had whooping cough for six weeks. Then it was Christmas and New Years. In January I had a soft tissue foot injury that put me in a Frankenstein boot for two weeks and in pain for six; then I caught a cold that turned into tonsillitis for two weeks; and NOW I am getting over a horrid case of strep throat. Yesterday I went to the walk-in clinic almost in tears because I was in so much pain - aching all over, unable to swallow or turn my head, feverish, and miserable. Today I'm finally beginning to feel better. Thank you, antibiotics.

When you're sick or in pain and unable to go to the gym, or shop for healthy food, or be motivated to do much of anything, it's hard to stay on track. I kept getting through one thing, only to be hit a few weeks later with some other issue. I felt like I was on some game show called "Name Lisa's Ailment".

Hopefully the worst is behind me. I'm determined to be over the strep for the upcoming Easter weekend, and then I plan to hit the gym again next week. I'm not giving up - I won't.

I also need to figure out why I've been so sick this season and how to strengthen my immune system. I mean, really - whooping cough?!

baby blue eyes

2010-03-15T11:08:00.000-04:00

My friend and her baby visited from New Jersey over the weekend. This is the first of many photos of this gorgeous little girl.

six days old

2010-03-02T15:29:00.000-05:00

Here's a sneak peek from the session I did on Sunday. At only six days old, he slept most of the entire time and was extremely patient with all of my posing him and moving him around. What a cutie!

once in a blue moon

2010-01-01T14:21:00.006-05:00

It's very appropriate that a blue moon appeared for my New Year's Eve. Something rare, strange, and fascinating? Yes, that would be my life at the moment. Because this year there were TWO plates of spinach lasagna.

Crazy.

Paul and I spent a quiet evening at my house. I made the above lasagna and garlic bread, which has become my traditional New Year's Eve dish.

We drank some tasty IPA's:

One is Short's Brew "Huma Lupa Licious" from Elk Rapids, MI - "a complex malt and hop theme park in your mouth", and Ruination IPA from San Diego, CA - "a liquid poem to the glory of the hop." I love the bottles as much as the beer.

Around 11:00, we deep fried some pickles and zucchini in the Fry Baby . . .

. . . and ate them as the ball dropped in Times Square.

After that, I forced Paul to go outside and light sparklers with me. He was a good sport.

Happy New Year, everyone!

year in review

2009-12-31T16:12:00.000-05:00

January:
2009 came in with stillness, solitude, and a healing heart. I held this ornament in my hands and made a wish.

February:
I did something I had always been afraid of: appeared onstage. I played "Stacey" in the play "A Nice Family Gathering." It was soooo much fun!

March:
I celebrated St. Patrick's Day with a Guinness and took this self-portrait in my compact mirror.

April:
I visited one of my favorite cities: London. I've been there many times before and yet never get tired of it. Here I am by Tower Bridge.

May:
I took Leah Profancik's photography workshop, which was a life changing experience. Here is Leah's adorable daughter, Bella, who modeled for the class.

June:
One of my two brothers got married. Here he is with daughters Katie and Ellen.

July:
That wish I made in January? It came true. I met Paul.

August:
My other brother got married. They're expecting a baby boy in May!

September:
I spent Labor Day weekend with Paul and his friends and family, up on their property in Mesick, MI. So much fun!

October:
I finally got to meet Genevieve and her husband, Jon, my friends from Australia. We had such a fun time in Manhattan together, topped off by a fun day with Laura and Annabel in Chinatown.

November:
I turned 40. Goodbye, horrible 30's!

December:
I'm ending this year happier than I could have ever imagined. I feel so blessed and grateful. Here is Paul throwing a snowball at me during our first Christmas together.

a year in the life

2009-12-18T22:55:00.021-05:00

I'm feeling reflective tonight.

A year ago at this time, I was faced with some distressing/depressing/heartbreaking/annoying news that made me sit down and take an honest look at myself and the way I was hiding from my life.

I did a lot of thinking and working on my inner self. In April I took a trip to a city I never get sick of: London, which was great. Then my friend died, and that was really awful. After her death, when the shock of it all wore off, I stepped back once again to evaluate things. Quit all the humiliating online dating. Joined a gym and hired a trainer. Began to put myself first and stopped worrying about what might or might not happen. Stripped away all the stupid fakeness and fear that held me back.

I began to plan solo trips and classes I wanted to take, made lists and started to form a picture of how I wanted the next decade of my life to take shape. I geared up for a summer where both my brothers got married within two months of each other, leaving me the sole single person in the family, and I made peace with that. By July, while driving 11 hours home from New Jersey after a fun visit with Laura and her family, I felt calm, free, confident, and balanced. I was single and completely okay with that, peaceful to the nooks and crannies of my inner Lisa. It's the first time in my life I could ever honestly say that.

And then two days later I met Paul.

Coworkers had set us up, and we had been emailing each other for three weeks or so. We met in person on July 9th at East Side Mario's in Livonia. Now, I am the queen of blind dates. I've tried it all - matchmaking, online dating, speed dating, every depressing and frustrating tool that was out there for singles. Unlike the commercials, I never met anyone to skip joyfully down a beach with. The 29 dimensions of compatibility matched me with men who collected buttons, believed the Great Lakes were man-made, wanted to move to Asia because they hated America, or, worst of all, were BORING. On the way out the door, on that warm summer evening where I just wanted to stay home and read under the walnut tree, I told Sophie and Sadie, "well, here goes another waste of an evening."

Except it wasn't. It SO wasn't. And we've been inseparable ever since.

I've been a bit silent on my blog, not really talking about things like I've done in the past. I thought that once I met someone, I'd be spilling all sorts of long, excited blogs, boring people with my nauseating joy. Instead, the opposite happened. I took private time to open up to and cultivate this new HEALTHY relationship. I needed that time away. But now I'm back, and here are a few fun facts: Paul is caring, hardworking, supportive, selfless, giving, and funny. We share a love of microbreweries, food, the outdoors, snow, family, socializing, and campfires. He's everything I've been looking for, and I hope he's in my life for a very long time.

But this isn't an entry about Paul. It's about me. I am proud of myself, of how I handled this year of ups and downs. This will go down in Lisa History as a hugely pivotal year, one which hasn't happened since 1991. I'm proud of all the work I put in, both mentally and physically. I am grateful that finally, FINALLY, the one thing that's been eluding me for so long is now really here. It really is! And tonight, as I sit here coughing up a lung with whooping cough, which I've had for five weeks now, I am truly happy. I haven't been this happy in a long time.

Who'd've thunk it?

chilly session

2009-12-15T20:46:00.000-05:00

Check out this gorgeous family from a session over the weekend:

foggy morning

2009-12-09T17:32:00.000-05:00

Here is my niece, Katie, again. She wasn't really in the mood to pose for me, but I begged and whined and told her how much these photos would look like something out of a Twilight movie. She finally obliged. I just love the eerie quality and the pale foggy light.

katie

2009-12-01T15:37:00.003-05:00

one year, two hemispheres, 730 photos

2009-11-25T16:34:00.001-05:00

Check out a new blog by Gen and me! Click on the graphic below to see our site.

evening in the meadow

2009-09-17T20:27:00.002-04:00

View full size.

I was lucky enough to photograph this handsome young man while vacationing near Cadillac, MI. The light was perfect, and I talked him into posing for me. He kept saying "I'm not a model! I don't know what to do!" By the end of the session, he was already planning how he would pose next time, and kept asking to see the photos on my camera. I think a star is born.

strength

2009-08-30T19:06:00.005-04:00

We spent the day laughing and telling stories. Playing with the dogs. Eating a big breakfast. Buying pajamas at Target. A day like many others we've had in the past, during our lifetime of friendship, nothing out of the ordinary.

Except that tomorrow Rosanne undergoes a double mastectomy at the age of 40.

I am concerned, hopeful, and a little sad. But mostly, I am proud.

katie's day out

2009-08-27T18:12:00.003-04:00

More photos from Katie's vacation with me. These are from her day at Greenfield Village.

All photos were taken with my little Canon Elph, because I didn't feel like

lugging my heavy Canon 20D around.

Following a chicken.

At the working farm.

Standing on the tracks.

Using the old-fashioned printing press.

Upstairs at the sawmill.

Near the Liberty Craftworks district.

Having a root beer (while I have a Bell's Pale Ale).

On the carousel.

In the town square.

Petting a really big horse.

A gazebo.

At the Garden House.

In the Garden House gardens.

Standing in goldenrod in the Cotswold Garden.

Making a hand-dipped beeswax candle.

Holding up her tiny, barely-coated wicks. Candles have to be dipped 20-30 times!

Drying off the candles after cooling them in water.

At the IMAX theater, waiting for Under the Sea 3D to begin.

more ellen photos

2009-08-26T17:56:00.005-04:00

On the carousel at Greenfield Village.

Here are a few photos of the elusive Ellen, taken on her stay at my house two weeks ago. She doesn't like her picture taken, but I managed to sneak a few in. These are my favorites.

Soaking her cares away after a long day of walking.

At the Artic Ring of Life at the Detroit Zoo.

Checking out polar bears at the zoo.

breakfast with katie

2009-08-24T08:47:00.003-04:00

My niece, Katie, is staying with me this weekend. We attended a Breakfast at Tiffany's themed bridal shower on Saturday morning, and I had a great time dressing her all up. Katie has this awesome vintage look about her, and the cool outfit makes her look like an old movie star.

photo friday

2009-08-21T06:32:00.002-04:00

Check this out:

No, not the beer! The faceless man sitting across from me at a microbrewery last night.

Could it be???? Yes, it's true! I am no longer single. Just when I had given up (most) hope and decided I'd be going into my 40's single, and was finally completely fine with that, BAM! Some coworkers at work played matchmaker and set us up. Many emails and a meeting later, we totally hit it off and have been seeing each other ever since.

I'm not giving many details at this point, since he doesn't yet know that I even have a blog. But let's just say: it's been about six weeks, he's fantastic, and I'm having so much fun!

water babies

2009-08-19T21:16:00.001-04:00

My niece, Ellen, stayed with me for four days last weekend. High on her list of activities was to meet my little neighbor, so we invited her over to run through the sprinklers on a very hot, muggy day. The two of them had a blast together, and I got to shoot some fun photos. Please excuse the embarrassingly long grass in my yard - I haven't been home very much this summer and it shows!

i'm back

2009-08-17T21:36:00.003-04:00

Because I miss this blog . . . because I miss documenting my life . . . and because maybe I'm not done saying everything I need to say after all.

head swimming

2009-06-10T22:23:00.003-04:00

Where on earth have I been? Everywhere but here, apparently. I've been doing photo shoots, working my shrinking patootie off at the gym, spending time working in the garden, and planning and formulating. I cannot seem to stop moving, and it's a great feeling!

Ever since Leah's workshop, my brain has been on overload, deciding what I want my photography business to be. I know I want it to be a side job - I need my day job for a consistent paycheck and the health insurance. I don't want it to become work work - a fun hobby that turns into a job I dread. I never want to lose that sparkly, giddy, FUN feeling that comes from photography, and I never want to stop learning new things. I'll keep you posted in the upcoming weeks with all sorts of new and exciting happenings.

Here are a a few photos from last Friday's session. Aren't they just the cutest family? We had a blast working together and the kids had fun thinking up their own poses. Then there was pasta. Lots of it. And ice cream.

creative overload

2009-06-02T20:40:00.004-04:00

Here is a photo I took of Rachel, a gorgeous 15 year-old who modeled for Leah Profancik's workshop over the weekend. I had SO MUCH FUN at that workshop. Everyone was so nice and supportive, Leah was sweet and generous and shared a ton of knowledge with us, and my head threatened to explode with creative ideas.

More to come in the days ahead. For now, I'll leave you with a few photos of Leah's bright and airy studio. Feel free to drool - we sure did!

a "gothlic" photo friday

2009-05-29T09:08:00.003-04:00

One of the many things I enjoy about my niece, Katie, is the fact that she has a slight dark side like me. As a four year-old, her favorite game for a brief time was to pretend that she was dying from a long, dreadful disease. "I have . . . a-larr-ium . . . (malaria) . . . " she'd breathlessly announce, flopping around dramatically while clutching her forehead, and then collapse on the floor with her tongue hanging out. I'd have to frantically bring her back to life while begging her to hold on. She loved it. Most kids enjoy playing with Barbies or coloring books. Katie? A rousing game of "Malaria" made her very happy.

When she was nine, a 14 year-old cousin of hers went through a goth phase. Katie was not sure about the whole thing, and arrived at my parents' house to say exasperatedly, "Well. It happened. Alisha turned Catholic."

We all stood there puzzled, not sure what she meant. Why would a 14 year-old Methodist decide on her own to choose another religion?

"Catholic?" my mom tentatively asked her.

"Yeah, you know, when you're Catholic you wear black clothes and have white skin and black makeup and you walk around mad all the time."

"You mean GOTHIC."

"Yeah, gothlic."

That afternoon, she disappeared for awhile and came out dressed completely in black. Handing me a tube of liquid black eyeliner , she asked that I take her picture as a "gothlic." And so I painted her lips black and off we went. This is my favorite photo from that shoot.

memorial day video

2009-05-27T10:06:00.001-04:00

I am in love with my new Flip Video Ultra HD! It's small enough to carry around with me and takes fantastic video.

Here is my very first video creation, taken over the weekend, and edited in iMovie with a vintage effect. My little neighbor had a blast playing with Sophie and Sadie and blowing bubbles. It was a fun holdiay.

house envy

2009-05-23T11:08:00.008-04:00

The "Old Dover Road" house.

I've been spending far too much time on the site The Beach Studios and Locations, drooling over the gorgeous homes and clean, open rooms.

The "French House":

I'd love to move right in to one of them. Look! No cat hair! No dog hair! No accidental pee pee puddles (from the dogs . . . not me)! No dishes in the sink! No piles of mail and old magazines!

The "Lavender Grove":

White furniture!

The "Foster House":

"Thames Street" house:

I want this summerhouse in my yard.

Sigh. Off to unload the dishwasher.

And on a similar note: does anyone watch How Clean is Your House on BBC America? I am totally addicted and DVR every episode. After watching it, you'll feel much better about your own house. Trust me.

My favorite episode to date:

photo friday

2009-05-22T14:15:00.005-04:00

Yep, my grandma is making yet another appearance. But look! She brought my grandpa and two unknown friends with her!

My grandparents are the couple on the right; I have no idea who the people on the left are, but they seem fun enough. Just look at them pretend to fill a glass with a cold beverage! Nonstop frivolity, I'm telling you.

This photo was taken shortly after they were married, maybe on a day trip to Boblo Island (note the faint sign above my grandma's head). I love the fake ship background, the cheesy signs, and the up-to-no-good expression on my grandpa's face. Maybe his bottle was filled with the real stuff.

garden workout

2009-05-17T21:19:00.003-04:00

One of the best side effects of having a personal trainer is that I'm too exhausted to stay up very late, and then I sleep like a rock. Last night I was tucked into bed at 10:00 p.m. ON A SATURDAY because my legs & abs session had wiped me out. Oh, Branden, how you push me to my limits.

But anyway, that means I was up at 7 a.m. ON A SUNDAY without setting my alarm. It's all very strange. After lingering over coffee and blogs, I got dressed and headed to Home Depot to buy a new clamp for my broken driveway gate, paper yard waste bags, weedwacker string, and a stash of new perennials.

I planted, weeded, moved some perennials to new locations, mowed, weedwacked, and filled seven yard bags with grass clippings, leaves, and twigs.

For dinner, I ate turkey meatloaf and a glorious roasted eggplant from a recipe found here. I seasoned my eggplant with fresh minced garlic, basil, and a touch of red pepper flakes. If you've never eaten eggplant this way, I highly suggest you try it - I can see this recipe becoming one of my favorites.

I am tired, achey, and filled with vitamin D after a full day in the yard. I love spring.

photo friday

2009-05-15T13:47:00.001-04:00

scenes from a spring evening

2009-05-14T20:36:00.003-04:00

ow

2009-05-09T22:56:00.003-04:00

I hurt. All over.

I can't sit down without making an embarrassing "heee-flaaaoowwww" noise. I walk in stilted, tiny geisha steps, and I massage my thighs at every chance. Have I gone mad? Apparently. I hired a personal trainer.

I've been unhappy with my weight loss progress for awhile. The up and down, back and forth, on-again, off-again disarray of how I've been living is just not working. I've been on Weight Watchers for five years. Have I made progress? No. Doing the same thing over and over and not getting results is pointless. I need a routine, a master plan in the hands of someone else, encouragement, and accountability. That's where Trainer Branden comes in. Our first session was Thursday at the gym I just joined.

I'm not sure, but I think he tried to kill me.

I started off all fresh and perky (camera phone photo taken in my car). Afterward, I looked like this:

And I'm not kidding. I was WIPED OUT. All my makeup had melted off, my hair had sweated and curled itself to twice its size, and my muscles felt like a shaky mass of rubber. I wanted to lay down in the parking lot and cry.

There were lunges and squats and lunges and squats and squats and squats and squats. Machines. Balance balls and weighted little balls. Kicks. Crunches. I had thought I was in decent shape for chubby girl who'd survived Lyme disease, but apparently this was not the case.

I wanted Branden to know that I hadn't always been like this, throwing in comments like, "I used to be really thin," or "I used to be a figure skater," or "I used to have much more endurance before I got sick." He was not impressed, and I realized that the used-to-be's don't matter. This is what I am right now, and I have a lot of work to do. No one was going to hand me a brand new size 8 body just because I used to be a perky little skater.

"I like you much less now than when we started," I commented to Branden as he pushed down on a weighted ball I was lifting over my head while seated on a big balance ball, sweaty mascara running down my face and my arms shaking.

"Well, at least you're not throwing anything at me," he replied cheerfully. Had people actually thrown things at him? I wondered, but I was too out of breath to ask. By the end of the session, I began to understand why winging a five pound ball at his head would seem like a good idea.

I hired him because I will never do this on my own. I would never willingly go to the gym and do 5,000 squats on purpose, without someone standing in front of me and cheering me on. I would just stay in my comfort zone of the treadmill or stair stepper, maybe do a few half-hearted arm machines, and call it a day. Slightly tired, but not pushed to the limit.

I want to put on my skates and land a flip jump when I'm 40. I want to wake up in the morning excited about what I'm going to wear, and not dread the same oversized clothing that helps me cover up a body that embarrasses me. I want to hike up a mountain and not feel exhausted.

I want my outside to reflect how I feel in the inside. And so, on Monday, I begin. Get ready, Branden. You have your work cut out for you.

photo friday

2009-05-08T12:41:00.001-04:00

My grandma, age 18, 1944.

day trip from london

2009-05-06T22:34:00.000-04:00

Stonehenge.

About to climb the Tor.

Inside the ruin of St. Michael's Church at the top of the Tor.

The Chalice Well.

Path through the Chalice Well gardens.

london: day one

2009-04-30T19:01:00.001-04:00

The Tree Room at Waxy O'Connors, featuring a preserved peach tree.

I love London. LOVE it. Love, love London. Besides New York City, London is my favorite city in the world. My coworker and I got a last-minute package to London through Travelocity.com and paid $1,200 each for airfare AND five nights at the Hilton Park Place. Sooooo cheap. I had visited London three times before, but my coworker had never been there before.

Here we are, jet-lagged, trying to look deep and intense, and enjoying our first beers at Waxy O'Connors. Sorry for the blurry photo - I was holding the camera and trying to do the self-portrait thing. After a few beers, that's not so easy.

Here's what it looks like from the outside.

Our first beers in London - mine was a Caffrey's Irish ale, and hers was a Carlisle.

Fish and chips with mushy peas. I love mushy peas! I must learn how to make them. The fish was served with malt vinegar and tartar sauce. It was heavenly. We were soooo hungry.

We left Waxy's in search of a pub recommended by our bartender: The Porterhouse in Covent Garden, and wandered into the Queen's Theatre to inquire about Les Miserables tickets. Aren't these just the greatest door handles? Ever?!

I love this photo - the blurred people walking, the wide angle lens distorting the building and making it appear to be tilting to the left, the general "off"-ness of the whole thing. I think it sums up the energy of the city that night.

This is another photo taken along our walk, near Chinatown.

Chinatown.

London phone booths, a pub, bicycles, and locals dressed in trendy clothes. What else do you need in life?

The very cool Prince of Wales theatre, showing Mama Mia.

The Astrology Shop in Covent Garden, taken because it reminds me of Laura.

Our final destination: the Porterhouse Pub, where I fell in love with the Porterhouse Red beer. And I mean FELL IN LOVE. It's the best red beer I've ever had. I would go back to London just to sit at the bar and have another pint. Someday I will.

a toast to katie

2009-04-29T20:43:00.007-04:00

Today I attended the funeral of one of my friends. Katie was just 38 years old, married, and a mother of two very small children; she died unexpectedly on Saturday as a result of complications with ulceratic colitis. She was one of the first members of the theater I met when I moved back to Michigan, which means I've known her for almost a decade. The whole thing is so jolting and surreal, to have her stolen away like this.

I will miss her passion for life, her bold personality, and her sense of humor. I will always remember dancing with her on the RCP stage on the Bus Stop set during an all night party. Driving with the top down at night when she briefly owned a sports car many years ago. Jumping off a high dock to the water below during a theater party on Harsen's Island. Playing poker with her - we still had to use our cheat sheets to see if what we had would make a winning hand. Drinking margaritas. Her support during my Lyme disease battle. Her big, blonde, curly hair. The way she'd say "I KNOW!" like Monica on Friends. Her handing out mimosas backstage before a matinee; when Katie stage managed, you always got mimosas on Sunday. Going on a crazy speedboat ride and sitting in the front where it was the most bumpy, getting tossed around and soaked and laughing until our stomachs hurt.

With her husband at our theater's annual Betty awards party.

Her funeral today was one of the most gut-wrenching I've ever attended. Her husband gave a eulogy, complete with props, and afterward, their children hung onto him so confused. It was one of those funerals where taking a handful of kleenex wasn't enough - they should have passed out rolls of paper towels at the door.

But this isn't the way I want to remember her. I will always see her in the summertime, a margarita in her hand (Katie loved margaritas the way I love beer), and a smile on her face.

At Harsen's Island after the crazy boat ride.

I stopped on the way home to get margarita mix and tequila so I could toast her. And now I am. Here's to you, Katie. I'm so glad you were in my life.

tough few days

2009-04-28T20:58:00.004-04:00

The Houses of Parliament, taken from the London Eye on Friday.

Sorry for my lack of posting. As soon as I landed back in Detroit on Monday, I learned that a good friend of mine had died unexpectedly. She was 38 years old and leaves a husband and two small children, and I'm having a hard time dealing and making sense of it all. I will post tomorrow after her funeral.

the beer was good

2009-04-27T19:54:00.001-04:00

london, baby!

2009-04-21T13:00:00.002-04:00

I am off to London for five days of nonstop fun and beer! See you all on the 28th!

photo friday

2009-04-17T14:20:00.003-04:00

Above, once again, is my great-grandma. Written on the back is "Laura, age about 13 years. Taken up home behind the house. That is the granery fence posts for her garden." So it would be around 1919.

I don't exactly know what that means. Up home? Wouldn't you just say "taken behind the house?" Granery posts? She must mean "granary", and maybe the family tore down the granary building and used the wood for fence posts? I wonder why that fact was noted. Did my great-grandma have her own garden at age 13? So many questions. This is when I wish I could just reach through time and ask her what was going on.

Here's another puzzler. There's nothing written on the back of this one. At first glance, it looks like my great-grandma is hanging out in the yard with a cigarette. But no, she's reading a card or letter. What is it? Is it important? Why is she she dressed up? Why is the chair in the middle of the yard? Is this posed? Why did someone take a photo of it in the first place?

Sadly, we will never know. But it's fun to wonder.

high-flying ellen

2009-04-16T22:08:00.000-04:00

I don't have a lot of artsy photos of Ellen - unlike Katie, modeling is not her thing. So when I saw her jumping on the trampoline on Easter, her bright red and pink outfit popping against the blue sky, I couldn't run for my camera fast enough. These photos completely capture her plucky personality.

katie's 13th birthday portraits

2009-04-14T21:13:00.000-04:00

Katie woke up on Easter morning with the most amazing bed head. She'd gone to sleep with it wet, and it dried overnight into all sorts of quirky curls and scraggly swirls. I took one look at her, then at the amazing golden morning sunlight in the yard, and said, "Get dressed. We're doing your birthday portraits."

She had all sorts of fun jumping around with her crazy hair, and I couldn't get enough of the gorgeous backlighting on my gorgeous niece.

egg decorating

2009-04-13T15:03:00.003-04:00

Ellen made me my very own Lyme disease egg. Isn't it cute!? She copied my lime tattoo and then added a tick to the side. Nothing says Easter like an infectious blood-sucking ectoparasite!

photo friday

2009-04-10T15:13:00.002-04:00

Just a quickie post here today as I get organized - unpacking from my business trip, packing for a weekend with the family, finishing Easter gifts for my nieces, wrapping shower gifts for my future sister-in-law, and miscellaneous cleaning and madcap frivolity.

Above are Katie and Ellen in 2001 or so at the Midland County fair, in one of those booths where you dress up in vintage clothes and have an old style photo taken. Afterward, I remember Katie and I got on some ride that I thought would scare her, but instead she just kept yelling "Yeah! Faster! GO!" Ellen sat in her stroller next to her mom, watching us go around and around while clutching a mountain of cotton candy. It was a fun day.

flying away

2009-04-06T08:23:00.002-04:00

I'm off to Washington, D.C. on business again. See 'ya Thursday!

photo friday

2009-04-03T10:51:00.003-04:00

Today we are admiring my great-grandparents' engagement photo, taken in 1924 or so. I love her bobbed hair and dropped-waist lacy dress. And look! Great-grandma has my face shape! Or, I should say, I have hers. I love looking like her. She was strong, easygoing, and funny at the same time. When she drank tea, she'd lean over to me and say "Tea! Tea! Gotta pee!" It would crack me up every time.

She taught us how to swear in German, danced with the support of her cane when a good song came on the radio, and made the best chicken rice soup in the world. Oh, and a mean sauerkraut. It's been 24 years since she's been gone, and I still think of her every day.

reflections on an annoying holiday

2009-04-01T22:27:00.000-04:00

The only Easter decorations I have ever owned, purchased last week.

As a kid, Easter was never one of my favorite holidays - the non-religious aspects of it. Why was a rabbit hiding multicolored chicken eggs from me? Why is he leaving baskets of candy filled with that horrid, stringy, stick-to-everything gaudy plastic grass? I DON'T UNDERSTAND. Not that the concept of some old guy from the North Pole sliding down the chimney and leaving presents made any more sense, but somehow Santa seemed more reasonable.

But the biggest reason I didn't like Easter much was the fact that you were forced to look for things. I have always HATED searching for things, mainly because I've been a scatterbrain since birth and lose things all the time. Every day is Easter for me, people. Where are my keys? Where is my phone? Where is my W-2 form? Where is my thermos - did I leave it in the car again? Why can't I find matching socks? Where's the tape measure? Where's the remote? Where's the charger for my iPod?

It drives me crazy - the hunting, the pushing things aside, the backtracking. Why is there a holiday that celebrates this? It would be like me laying out all my clothes for work, getting my coffee ready, packing a lunch, arranging my purse, and waking up the next morning to find that some giant, hairy animal had broken into my house and hidden it all. And that I was supposed to ENJOY searching for everything before I left for work. Does this sound like fun to you? I didn't think so.

Every year I'd dread helping my brothers find all the eggs, placing them in a big basket, and having my Dad count them. It was torture. And then the dreaded words "there's still two missing!" My brothers would hug themselves with delight and dash off again in pursuit of those two cleverly hidden eggs, and I would inwardly moan and twist with despair. My brain would scramble, I'd get frustrated and cranky, and I'd just wish for it all to be over.

The grand prize, of course, was the Easter basket. This was hidden somewhere you had to work extra hard to find it, like in a closet, under a bed, or in a cupboard. Always trying to be the perfect child and not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings, I pretended to be really excited, but let me tell you: when I found that basket, no one was happier. It wasn't the chocolate eggs or the Pez candy dispenser with a bunny head, or the bag of sickeningly sweet jellybeans. It was the joyous relief that the game was done, and I could stop looking for things.

Even now when I watch my nieces hunt excitedly for their Easter eggs, I wonder what gene I am missing. Sometimes I can't even watch their searching; it drives me bonkers when they can't find them right away. I try to distract myself by taking photos, but then I'm all "crap, what did I do with my lens cap? My memory card is full - where did I put the other one? My feet are cold. Why am I outside without shoes? Where are my shoes? Is this over yet? Is it time to eat ham?"

happy mail

2009-03-30T22:49:00.000-04:00

Today, I pulled into my driveway and saw a package in my mailbox. For some reason, I just knew it was from Gen. I get packages all the time, mainly because I'm too lazy to go to an actual store, so there was no reason to expect presents from Australia.

Me being surprised (re-enactment). And my eyes really aren't this green;

I think it's the reflection off the walls. I look a little possessed here.

But it really was from Gen! It's like I had postal ESP or something. So I carefully opened the package, and there was an awesome home magazine, a "mix" CD, and a card.

Sophie and Sadie check out the goods.

I had to go to a theater meeting, so I took the CD along to listen to in the car. It was great! I love new music, and not many people make me mix CDs anymore.

Then I came home, put my feet up, and got ready to page through the magazine. Lucy jumped up on the table as I was taking photos, knocking the card over and giving the magazine a good sniff of approval.

All in all, a great day! Thanks again, Gen!

meatloaf saturday

2009-03-28T15:56:00.006-04:00

After a pleasantly sunny morning, the weather turned cloudy, windy, and colder. I was searching for a way to use the ground turkey in my fridge, and started craving my favorite meatloaf recipe. I tweaked it a little, substituting turkey for beef and eliminating one of the eggs, and BAM! A hearty dinner for a chilly spring evening. The oats make the meatloaf extra moist, and is a great source of fiber and whole grain goodness.

Lisa's Turkey Meatloaf
Servings: 4
WW points per serving: 6

1 lb. ground turkey
1 egg
2/3 c. oats
1/4 c. ketchup
1 T. A-1 steak sauce
another 1/4 c. ketchup (to spread over the top)
seasonings like garlic, onions, red pepper, etc. to taste

In a bowl, mix turkey, egg, oats, 1/4 c. ketchup, and steak sauce. Season with whatever you like, according to taste. Line a cookie sheet with foil and spray with cooking spray. Plop the turkey mixture onto the foil and form into a meatloaf-like shape. Spread the other 1/4 c. ketchup across the top of the meatloaf.

Bake for 45 minutes at 350 degrees.

photo friday

2009-03-27T19:20:00.002-04:00

How can this wee one . . .

. . . who seems to have just celebrated her first birthday . . .

. . . and loved Elmo, Barbie, her sandbox, and playing make-believe . . .

. . . be 13 already?

Happy birthday, my Sweet Girl, my Katie-Kate, my quirky, funny, happy, and brave niece!

buffalo chicken salad

2009-03-23T20:12:00.001-04:00

I've been all healthy lately - counting my Weight Watcher's points, doing time on the treadmill, and generally becoming annoyingly wholesome. Chicken works for me, because I can eat a lot of it for relatively low points, and I can eat it in fun and exciting salad form.

I love Buffalo wings. I mean, who doesn't? The spicy sauce, the sharp bite of blue cheese, the crunch of celery to cool it all off. Of course, the chicken is best when it's breaded and deep fried, but that won't fit me into The Dress. So I made my own point-friendly version.

Lisa's Buffalo Chicken Salad
Serves: one
Points: 9 (but tweak to your liking)

Ingredients:
6 oz. grilled/baked/broiled chicken (I used Butterball pre-cooked chicken because I'm lazy)
1/4 - 1/2 c. celery
2 T. Hellmann's Light mayonnaise
3 T. crumbled blue cheese
2 - 3 T. chicken wing sauce

Chop the chicken into small pieces, then put it in a bowl and add the rest of the ingredients.

Mix away. You can add more or less chicken wing sauce (my brand has 0 points), use fat free mayonnaise instead of light, and adjust the amount of blue cheese to your liking. Just keep stirring and tasting until you're happy.

And there you go! Quick and easy, ready to take to work. You can eat it straight from the bowl, or eat it in sandwich form on bread, or in a wrap, or in a pita. Go nuts.

photo friday

2009-03-20T11:21:00.000-04:00

I love this photo so much that I enlarged it to 11 x 17 and am framing it to hang on my wall. This is my great-grandma (on my mom's side) and her three brothers and one sister hanging out on the family farm, less than a mile from where I grew up. I estimate it was taken around 1918 or so.

My great-grandma (who appeared in last week's photos) is the one in back with the bonnet on. Her sister is on the lower right - and you know what? She's still alive! Her 101st birthday is in May. Although she needs a scooter to get around, she's still sharp as a tack, funny, and blunt, and enjoys every day she has. I would love to make it to 100 if I could be just like her.

a good week

2009-03-19T20:50:00.005-04:00

This photo has absolutely nothing to do with this post.
He is my new celebrity crush: Mather Zickel from "Rachel Getting Married". Oh, yeah.

Sometimes I forget that it's o.k. to be good to myself. I was in the health food store the other day, and came across pink Himalayan sea salts for $8 a pound. When I saw the price, I kept going - I mean, $8 for about 1 cup of salt seemed so frivolous.

By the time I got my organic French roast coffee from the bulk food section, I had changed my mind. A few months ago I would go through the drive through and spend $6 on fried calories, topping it off with a $4 pint of Ben & Jerry's (Chubby Hubby, of course!) and think nothing of the cost. So $10 wasted on food that would make me feel sluggish and guilty? Or $8 for something that is so good for you - plus I get to have a bath on top of it all, which is heavenly. I plunked down my $8.37 for a carton and don't regret it.

I've been working hard the past few weeks, exercising more than I have since I got Lyme and then had foot surgery. My muscles are sore-in-a-good way and I'm remembering how invigorating it is to crank up my favorite music, get on the treadmill, and sweat any angst of the day out of me. I ate very healthy this week, cooking all my meals from scratch and taking lunch to work. I am proud of myself.

I love Thursday nights, because on Friday (my weigh-in day), all the Weight Watchers points reset and it's a brand new week of possibilities. To reward myself, I dumped the entire pound of pink sea salt into the jacuzzi tub tonight and soaked in all those wonderful minerals for 40 minutes. It was better than any Big Mac I've ever had.

(This is a note to Naomi, who left such a nice comment on my previous blog: I've been trying to leave a comment on your blog, and I can't get it to post. Do you have a Facebook or myspace page? Let me know!)

200th post!

2009-03-17T21:14:00.002-04:00

Sometimes I like to photograph my beer in the driveway before drinking it.

This is my 200th post on Blogger! What better way to celebrate than a St. Patrick's Day glass of Guinness?

a tragic afternoon

2009-03-15T19:50:00.004-04:00

Today I made my way downtown to the Detroit Opera House, to see the ballet Romeo & Juliet. It was utterly fantastic, and is now my second-favorite ballet (nothing will ever top Giselle). I loved the costumes, the lighting, the dancing, and all the gut-wrenching angst.

These poor people. Just look at the carnage!

I mean, nothing good ever comes of these stories. People get stabbed, poisoned, heartbroken, banished, forced into arranged marriages, and screwed over by love. Sometimes they become angry ghosts and seek vengeance on any man who comes their way. Good grief. And here I thought I had it bad. At least I've never woken up on a stone slab in a crypt with the dead body of my beloved collapsed next to me. How would you explain that in therapy?

Things really could be so much worse.

proudest day

2009-03-14T17:20:00.004-04:00

My next photo entry for Susannah's class is me, on the day I received my Master of Fine Arts degree. The photo of me in my cap and gown is resting on my diploma, which is one of my most prized possessions.

People go to grad school for many reasons: some because their career path demands an advanced degree, others in the hopes that it will lead to a better job more quickly. I did it for entirely emotional reasons: I needed to feel strong and validated.

My life had been ripped apart a few years earlier at the hands of my uncle and aunt, and I needed to prove to THEM that I hadn't bought into their lies about my character. I wanted to say "Ha! You thought you could destroy me? You thought I would curl up and die? You thought your words could shrink me down? I am still here and LOOK! I made myself better IN SPITE of you. You have no power over me and you did not break me."

My motto was (and still is): "The Greatest Revenge is Success." Which means that when people screw you over, believe lies about you, and basically throw you under a bus to save themselves, you don't get revenge by setting their house on fire, keying their car, plotting ways to make their lives miserable, or doing any number of things that could land you in prison.

You know what people hate? When they've treated you like crap and expect you to fail, and you turn around and become a successful person who absolutely shines. That is revenge. You haven't hurt anyone, and in fact, have bettered yourself in the meantime. When I held that diploma, a lot of the grinding rage drained away; I was so filled with pride that there wasn't much room for any other emotion. And I still feel that way when I hold it today.

April 22, 1995. The proudest and happiest day of my life.

photo friday

2009-03-13T12:02:00.000-04:00

Whew! After the heaviness of the last post, I decided to end the week with happier photos. Above is one of my favorites - from left to right: my great-great-grandpa, my great-great-grandma, my grandma (the toddler), my great-grandma, my great-grandpa. The rest of the people I don't know, but they are listed as Cordy, Harry, Ida, and Helen (the little girl).

In the left photo are my great-grandparents with my grandma. I never knew my great-grandpa (he died in 1965), but I was extremely close to my great-grandma (she died in 1985) as well as my grandma (who died in 2005). I love the photo of my grandma on the right, looking like a little lady with her legs crossed and hands folded. This one says "June 21, 1929, age 3 years, 4 months."

Here's my grandma on a pile of snow in 1940. On the right photo, it says "July 18, 1936. Ring, age 12 (the dog), Arlene age 10."

Going through the photos of my grandma in her late teens, I began to wonder if she always wore dainty frocks, had perfectly curled hair, and wore lipstick while she worked on the farm. Then I realized that she must have had her mom take these photos so she could send them to my grandpa, who was overseas in World War II - so of course she wanted to look her best! This was taken in June, 1943.

See? Here she is again in 1943 with a curly updo and dark lips, hanging out in the yard. I just love these "glamour" shots of her, all gussied up for her man!

me

2009-03-12T20:56:00.003-04:00

This week in Susannah's class we're exploring memories in photos, both good and bad, and looking at ourselves the way we were. I began sorting through a box of old photos, searching for something that sparked an especially strong memory, when these fell out of an envelope.

There are two things in my past that cause me intense rage to talk about. One of them is my years at Lutheran school. Above, scattered across the lawn, are the faces of some of the worst people I've ever met in my life; my tormentors, my bullies, my attackers, and the teachers who watched it happen and did nothing.

I sometimes wonder why I keep them. I could easily use them for kindling and make a lovely fire to warm my hands. But I don't think I could do that to the girl whose photo is on every sheet. It was her battle and she survived it, and I owe it to her to remember. Me. The girl in the black pants and the chunky shoes with a leaf on the toe, standing in her yard on a windy day in March.

that wraps it up for me

2009-03-10T20:14:00.002-04:00

Ever have one of those days where you just want to collapse into bed and hide your head in a blanket? That was my today. Good night, all.

the magical flying dress

2009-03-06T12:42:00.004-05:00

This is the dress I want to wear to my brother's wedding in August. I got a great deal on it, and it's been waiting in my closet. Unfortunately, I need to lose some poundage before I can fit into it. I decided to take a photo of it to stick on my refrigerator, thus motivating me to eat lots of veggies and hop on the treadmill more often.

So I gathered up my dress, set up the shot, and clicked away. I'm sure my neighbors were thinking, "oh, look, there's that wierd girl who photographs her clothes outside."

It's 60 degrees here today and windy.

Oh no! And there it goes, crumpling to the ground. Which is what I will do if this dress doesn't fit in five months.

favorite things, part one

2009-03-05T18:45:00.003-05:00

This week in Susannah's class, we are taking photos of our favorite objects - things we keep for sentimental reasons or things we just love. Above are my grandma's wedding rings. They are so tiny - she was just 5'1" and 90 lbs. when she married my grandpa. I do not take after her! I hadn't realized how pretty these rings are. They need to be cleaned, and in person are much smaller than they appear in the photo. My grandparents didn't have much money starting out. My grandma moved off her family's farm, and my grandpa was barely back from World War II when they got married. They bought a little house, he got a job, and they had a baby girl who would eventually become my mom.

This is my grandpa's glass eagle. He kept it on his desk at Dow Corning where he was an accountant. After he died in 1993, my mom gave it to me since I was in college and was so inspired to have a successful career like him. When I got sick with Lyme disease-but-didn't-know-it-was-Lyme-disease in 2004, I held it while I laid on the couch, feverish, hallucinating, and crushingly exhausted. It felt so cool in my hands and I'd just clutch it and hope that some of his strength would help me through. I always had it with me when I went to sleep those first few months of being sick.

Meet Plumpy. She was my favorite doll as a toddler. She is hard, hollow, painted plastic, and now that I really look at her, has a rather unsettling smile on her face. I don't know if she was named Plumpy by the manufacturer or by me, but it sure fits. Especially the side view. It's kind of like how I look after a big taco dinner.

a book for secrets

2009-03-03T21:46:00.002-05:00

I decorated these moleskine journals for my nieces, using acrylic paint, Sharpies, and typewriter letter stamps. They can scrapbook, draw, and write all their wishes inside. Since they love getting packages in the mail, I think I'll run these to the post office tomorrow!

calm

2009-03-02T20:45:00.002-05:00

Me, reflected in my compact mirror.

Not a lot of words tonight. Just more happiness than I've felt since December, for no special reason.

And that is enough for today.

winter reflection

2009-02-26T21:27:00.003-05:00

This week in Susannah's class, we are photographing our reflections. Here I am, reflected in my garage window.

Last week we had to list our most important turning points in our lives, beginning with birth, in just 10-20 items. Yikes. It's interesting that most of my turning points are negative; is it because I learned so much from them? When I look back on them now, I'm nothing but proud for having survived it all.

Nov. 30th, 1969, I was born, a Sagittarius with red hair and chubby cheeks.
1976 - our family moved from Midland to Auburn. I missed my friend Rosanne. Began Lutheran school. Lutheran school was horrid, awful, and evil.
2nd through 8th grades were sheer horror, trauma, and grinding stress. I was bullied, picked on, and excluded. My parents told me to "ignore it and it'll go away." It didn't.
At age 11, my uncle began being, um, inappropriate with me. I never told. I thought he was just another bully. I thought if I ignored it, it would go away. It didn't.
1983 - Graduated from 8th grade and began high school. LOVED high school. I had friends for the first time. Joined clubs. Met Beth, who is my friend until this day.
Age 17 - graduated from high school, a completely different person than the awkward 13 year old who first entered.
July 2, 1989 - finally told my family about my uncle after a final incident. My aunt, who was like my second mother, told me I was making it all up to get attention, and that I deserved everything I got. She said I was a crazy, unstable, spoiled girl who lied her way through life. My uncle admitted nothing and actually laughed like it was a joke. This is a long, painful story, so I'll stop here. This is the single most traumatic thing that has ever happened to me.
September, 1989 - left home and went to Western Michigan University. Spent the first year locked in my dorm room, overwhelmed with what had happened in our family.
February, 1991 - Had first serious boyfriend.
Met Laura after breakup with serious boyfriend. Had a blast that crazy summer, going out every night, dancing, watching 90210, had my own apartment.
Earned Bachelor of Arts. Decided to go for Master's degree. Spent two years overworked, underslept, going to school full time, working full time, and figure skating four times a week. Earned my Master of Fine Arts degree. The proudest day of my entire life.
My grandpa, one of my greatest influences in my life, died.
My nieces were born.
1996 - moved to New York City with Laura and worked in the book publishing industry. Dated, went out in the city, became stronger and more independent.
2000 - turned 30, moved back to Detroit area. I question that decision to this day. It was a major crossroads - did I go the right way? Expected my 30's to rock. They didn't.
Got a job, bought a house, got a boyfriend, became involved with community theater.
Contracted Lyme disease in 2004, but didn't know it was Lyme for a year and a half. Doctors thought I was crazy or had multiple sclerosis. I have never been so scared or sick. Boyfriend broke up with me. My grandma died. It was a bad year.
Halloween, 2005, finally diagnosed with Lyme. Began three years of soul-sucking hellacious treatment.
Slowly recovered, got two pomeranians, focused on my photography and general creativity, worked really hard to make sense of the past five years.
Got onstage for the first time and loved it.

snow dogs

2009-02-25T21:51:00.003-05:00

Sophie, sticking her tongue out at me.

I haven't done a post about my dogs for awhile, and I'm sure you're all having horrible withdrawals. So here you go.

It's amazing how differently my furry creatures react to the snow. Sophie hates it. Hates it. Most of the time she stands there with this expression:

Sadie loves it - she'd stay out all day if she could. I'm pretty sure she has secret fantasies of being a sled dog. You know, if she weighed more than four pounds.

Here she is in action, running laps around the yard:

And smiling at me:

And pausing to catch her breath:

The entire time, Sophie was sitting on my boots and whining to go back inside. They just crack me up.

lisa unravels

2009-02-24T20:01:00.001-05:00

I am taking the current online Unravelling: Ways of Seeing My Self e-course from the fabulous Susannah Conway. Our first assignment was to photograph our feet in various situations, something I seem to do all the time anyway. I posted the above four: my black painted toenails on my black and white kitchen floor; my winter boots in the melting snow; my chunky Dansko shoes I wear to work; and my jacuzzi tub photo from last week.

It's been great to explore my creativity on stage (an experience that changed me in ways I can't even explain), but when I picked up my camera today, it felt so comfortable and homey. I fiddled with all the dials and knobs and switches, and couldn't have been happier. It was second nature.

Anyway, Susannah's class isn't a photography course. It's a way of re-discovering and opening yourself up through photography and writing. We've been assigned writing exercises, some of which I will share here, and some that I won't. We'll see how personal and raw things get!

I feel like the worst is over. These past few months have taught me what I believe in, what my limits in a relationship are, and what my boundaries need to be. Today I was proud to feel like myself and not some sludgey pool of despair. Which is good, because sludge is never attractive.

soaked

2009-02-19T20:55:00.007-05:00

I've been exhausted lately, no matter how much I sleep. I sit at work and fantasize about my bed. Don't get excited - it's boring stuff like how I will hunker down under the blankets, how comfortable my pajamas will feel, and how nice it will be to drift numbly off to dreamland.

Here are my stages of grief, explained. I waver between #2 and #4. Mostly #4 lately:

Denial: (You're frickin' kidding me, right? And you're telling me this right before Christmas? This can't be happening.)
Anger: (I can't believe I put up with this crap for as long as I did. I can't believe I let you play both sides. I can't believe history is repeating itself yet AGAIN. I hate how you handled this. I hate me. I hate my life. And I would like to hit something repeatedly with great vigor.)
Bargaining: (Maybe if we just do this and this and this, and don't do this, and then do THIS only when this is like this, and look! I made a nifty equation: a + 2b - c (2n + 3e + 1) = things can go back the way they were.
Depression: (My life sucks. I'm a loser. I make terrible decisions. Nothing will ever get better. My house is trashed, I'm eating horribly, and I don't care. I'm destined to die alone in a puddle of urine, never having loved again.)
Acceptance: _______________________ (????). I'll get back to you on that one.

Today I just wanted to either kick the crap out of something, get on a plane and run away from my life, or lie on the floor of my office and scream and kick like a two year old. Instead, I decided that I would crank up my jacuzzi tub as soon as I got home. I could hardly wait. I think I would have started stripping down in the car if it would have saved time.

I soaked. And soaked. And soaked. I think I even dozed off for awhile, letting the jets pummel me all over and shake the day right out of me.

And afterward? I felt so much better.

officially obsessed

2009-02-17T20:36:00.005-05:00

I love love LOVE this album! I've been listening to it nonstop since I downloaded it from iTunes.

She's Alison Sudol, aka A Fine Frenzy. And the hair! I want her hair.

Alison Sudol, A Fine Frenzy, Burbank, 2006., originally uploaded by Steve Appleford.

Download it from iTunes, order it here, or dash off to your local music store and buy yourself a copy.

Newly discovered albums always seem to find me when I need them most (ummm, like Charlotte Martin, during the dark days of 2004). And I needed this album. Badly. Excuse me while I go burn a CD for my car . . .

view from the sky

2009-02-15T20:09:00.005-05:00

Besides the free dinners and nice hotels, the thing I love most about business trips to Washington, D.C., is the view from the plane. It amazes me every time.

Flying near the Lincoln Memorial and Reflecting Pool.

The national World War II Memorial (grey circle on bottom left-ish), and the Washington Monument.

Washington Monument; U.S. Capitol Building in the distance on the right.

Top of the Washington Monument, Capitol Reflecting Pool, and the U.S. Capitol building.

About to land at Reagan National Airport, with one last view of the Capitol Building.

how i feel about the whole thing

2009-02-14T11:43:00.001-05:00

we're in the paper!

2009-02-12T12:50:00.002-05:00

Here's a really nice review from the Michigan Journal:

A Nice Family Gathering

by Anton Anderssen
Posted: 2/10/09

"You can always tell a Norwegian, but you cannot tell him much," said Thad AArdål, at the monthly meeting of the Sons of Norway, Nordkap Lodge.

Norwegians are known for their persistence, or as others might say, stubbornness. I come from a long line of Norsemen, going back over 1,000 years, and I know from family legends, a Scandinavian can be a real stitch.

Now showing at Rosedale Community Players is the comedy "A Nice Family Gathering," written by Norwegian-American Phil Olson.

Scandinavians are known for being emotionally reserved, nothing like the Italians who scream and yell and fling their arms at every opportunity. In the play, Carl Lundeen, Junior (played by the effusive Joseph Marzka) is visited by the ghost of his recently deceased father. Carl, the elder, regrets never having told his widow he loved her during their long marriage, and his soul cannot rest in peace until his message of love is made known to her. So he harasses Carl Junior to channel his spirit.

Joseph Marzka is thrilled to play the role of Carl. "I like him because he's the nicest guy in the world; he takes everything in stride. Obviously in any family there are issues of sibling rivalry among brothers and sisters. Carl adores his mother - he's definitely a mamma's boy."

The story line is interesting due to the dichotomy of not knowing his father cared for him, feeling alienated and frustrated, when in reality it was the exact opposite.

"There are times when you get caught up in daily living, and you just don't see how much people love you - you put your horse blinders on and don't really see the world around you," said Marzka.

And on a more scandalous note, it's always intriguing to catch up on those family secrets that are usually hidden in the closet, like who's drowning in debt, who got pregnant without being married, who's driving a BMW when he should be driving a Volkswagen, who is sterile, who's having a nervous breakdown, who's going senile, who's got a stash of cash squirreled away, and who feels like committing suicide.

"The actors did such a great job, I felt like I knew them all," said Diana Pianko of Oak Park. "Their individual characters came through so well."

Michèle Stevenson, an actress with SRO Productions in Southfield, was greatly impressed by the quality of the performance. "I felt bad for Stacy because I know what it's like to be the youngest child. I was the last of six children, and I felt all my life like I had to fight just to be noticed."

Stacy (played by Lisa) delivers a hilarious presentation of the last-born, who is treated as if she were simply an afterthought.

"A Nice Family Gathering" has this type of humor in it. Some parts of it are hysterical. The characters on stage fit real people.

Carl drives a truck for Pillsbury, and dreams of being a journalist. He gets no respect - the crazy old woman next door tells him his head is too large, and carries on about his size 13 feet.

Barbara Mathers, who plays Widow Lundeen, makes demented comments exactly the way my nanny did after she developed Alzheimer's. At one point I laughed until I had tears in my eyes. It's almost as if Phil Olson and I had the same old senile nanny.

Mary David, who came with over 50 of her closest friends from the Saint Andrew's Society, said she loved this play, especially the ending, which was an about-face to the zany pace of most of the play. "It suddenly turned into a bit of a tear jerker, just as you got to feel for the characters."

Ron Cunningham of Hazel Park loved Widow Lundeen. "Every time an uncomfortable situation arose, her solution was always to change the subject and ask 'Who wants pie?'" He laughed, "She's channeling Aunt Bea!"

"I love the family interaction in this play," said Claudia Scott, producer of the show. "I think the cast did a great job developing these characters. I think when the audience watches it, we can relate to the characters and the awkward family situations, and maybe find a little bit of our own family in this show."

The actors are, without doubt, superb. They won first place in ActFest, a biennial statewide theatre competition, for the past two championships.

A great part about this production is the theatre setting. Instead of being squeezed into a tiny seat, packed like sardines in rows, Rosedale Community Players offers cabaret seating. Instead, viewers sit at a large table, with a comfortable, padded chair, and soft candlelight. It would be a nice night out for a Valentine's treat. What makes this theatre unique is they allow you to bring a picnic to enjoy while watching the show.

Scott David, president of Saint Andrew's Society of Detroit, brought in dozens of pizzas and salads and desserts for everyone to enjoy. It was really a fun way to see community theatre.

You don't need to be Norwegian to enjoy this "Nice Family Gathering" - the Scotts loved it, and so will you. For tickets and reservations, please call Margaret Bross at (313) 537 7716 or RCP (313) 532 4010. For further information, visit www.rosedalecommunityplayers.com.

© Copyright 2009 Michigan Journal

tired, grumpy, and stressed

2009-02-11T10:10:00.007-05:00

Me at work, mere seconds ago.

Don't I look chipper? Today I am flying off to Arlington, VA, with my boss on business for three days. Yippee. I'd much rather stay home, get some sleep, clean my horrid house, go food shopping, and just get caught up on my life. I thought I'd have this week to do all the things that got pushed to the side in the flurry of rehearsals and never being home, but instead I've been working overtime, packing, running my dogs up to stay with my parents, and storming around in a funk. Good times.

I owe many people phone calls, e-mails, photos on CD, Rice Krispie care packages, and various other things I'll remember at some point. Please forgive my chaotic craziness and know that I have not forgotten you! Hopefully my life will fall back into some order next week.

That is all.

snapshots of the weekend

2009-02-07T23:41:00.002-05:00

Moon over my house, opening night.

Our opening weekend went great! I had so much fun.

Leaving for the theater.

Almost there.

Arriving at the theater.

Our theater group had been in a fabulous space for over 35 years - big stage and backstage, lots of storage, decorated all quirky, bright, and fun. Two years ago we had to leave it because the ceiling was falling in - literally. The entire costume/prop room caved in from the water damage that the landlord just wouldn't fix, and other areas were constantly leaking and sagging. It was unhealthy and embarrassing, so we've been temporarily performing in a church. Next year we will have our very own place once again. Yay!

Volunteers set up the tables with candles and free popcorn.

"Carl" and "Dad" run a scene.

"Mrs. Enquist" looks over the list of shows the group has done since 1969.

"Jerry" gets his eyebrows darkened.

Side view of the stage.

Trying to work out last minute jitters.

"Backstage" (the church's kitchen), moments before the curtain opens.

"Jill" and "Michael" doing . . . something.

Our props lady takes a break.

"Mom" and "Mrs. Enquist".

Me ("Stacy") in the prop/paint room, in costume and makeup. I have huge rolled bangs,
two braids on each side of my head that join in the back, and big, baggy clothing.

It was fun, it was a rush, and it all went by in a blur. I tried to pretend that it was just another rehearsal, and that the only people watching were the directors and random members of the crew. But that wasn't the case; opening night we had almost 80 people in the audience, and Saturday night we were sold out at over 100. I was amazed that I wasn't nervous. Then that made me nervous, thinking that I should be nervous. I kept repeating my mantra "nothing is as scary as Lyme disease". And you know what? Nothing ever is.

Here is what the show looks like. These photos were taken during dress rehearsal.

The set - the Lundeen family living room and porch.

The Thanksgiving dinner scene.

The cast.

Tomorrow (Sunday) we are doing a special fundraising matinee for a huge group of men wearing kilts. I wonder if any of them are single . . .

the big reveal

2009-02-01T19:22:00.002-05:00

I'm here! I really am! I've just been extremely busy with theater, work, and life that I'm hardly ever home. As proof, my Christmas tree was up until this morning and my laundry hasn't been done for two weeks.

Here's further proof of my existence: me at a retirement party I photographed on Thursday (work-related) with two co-workers (faces blurred so as to protect their identities). Don't I look just exhausted?

Apparently I can barely keep my eyes open.

Here's me, in a photo accidentally taken by another co-worker as I handed her my camera. Because we always spend our evenings hanging out by the men's room.

Anyway, I have BIG, EXCITING NEWS! Presenting . . .

Yes, it's official. I finally have my own photography website. Whoo-hooo! It took so much longer to put together than I expected, and there are still things I want to tweak.

If you had photos taken by me and are clicking on the "client login" link, please know that this will be fully functional this week. I am still working out the details of pricing and Paypal, so hold tight. You'll receive a password by e-mail when it's good to go.

This website will speed up my workflow in a huge way. The biggest obstacle for me has been finding a way to post proofs for people to view in a timely manner. Now, at the same time they look at their session, they can order prints right away. Fun for everyone!

Oh, and you'll notice that I am calling my photography website "limelight" instead of "lymelight". I figured that naming my business after a dehabilitating disease was not quite the feel I wanted. But never fear! Different spelling; same lymie freshness!

So click here or on the logo above and go check it out. Let me know what you think!

pass the dramamine

2009-01-26T22:13:00.004-05:00

One of the things I've noticed lately is the myriad of emotions I am capable of having in one day. I can wake up groggy and cranky, get to work and be irritable, laugh with my friends at lunch, have a melancholy afternoon, be stressed and tense when I get home and think of all the things I'm not getting done, have an absolute blast and blow off happy steam at rehearsal, then come home and curl up in a ball on the couch and remember everything that happened just before Christmas. I am a mess. And not necessarily in a bad way. I'm just all over the place all the time, processing and thinking and dealing.

Can I have another wish? I wish for truth. I have been lying to myself for years, not dealing with patterns that are hurting me, blocking out others that I just hope will go away. Well, they're not going anywhere; I keep spinning in circles, reliving the same script over and over like some demented ferris wheel ride, breaking promises to myself left and right. I'm tired. And slightly nauseous.

Enough, already. I owe myself more than this.

roll in the snow

2009-01-21T17:20:00.002-05:00

I'm feeling better today, so no need to call the crisis hotline. I ate a sleeve of Girl Scout thin mint cookies (yes, I said A SLEEVE OF THEM), I had a good laugh at Donna's expense, and I went outside to frolick in the snow.

I made a snow angel and got all sloppy messy.

And now I'm off to rehearsal. I've set my DVR to record the season premiere of Lost, which I cannot WAIT to see. Things are looking up.

void

2009-01-21T02:04:00.003-05:00

Not having a great night here. In fact, it's been pretty crappy. It's 2:00 a.m. and I have to be up in four hours for work. FOUR HOURS.

This photo was taken on Sunday at a lake that was completely frozen over and covered by a foot of snow. People were ice fishing on it; it should have been completely solid. But toward the edge was this huge hole with water in it, and the snow all wrinkled and sunken in around it like a sheet. How does that even happen? It looked like someone had just punched a hole in it and left.

This is how I'm feeling at the moment, like someone punched a hole in me and left. I don't know what to fill it with or even what to do, except stare at it and think, man, Lisa, that's a really big hole. I feel lost and scattered and empty and achingly sad.

And I'm just really, really tired and can't sleep.

silence

2009-01-19T22:14:00.004-05:00

You know how once in awhile you find a song that sums up everything you feel about a particular situation? This one does it for me.

cuteness abounds

2009-01-17T20:56:00.009-05:00

Have you ever visited Cute Overload? That's what this post feels like.

Above is my niece, Hope, who is growing up so fast and getting cuter by the day. She's eight months old now and has lots of red hair - I'd like to think she takes after her aunt Lisa! Mike was visiting her this morning and sent me the above camera phone photos. I just want to squeeze her.

While I was receiving all sorts of adorableness over the phone, I had a houseful of cute, myself. I got to babysit my favorite little neighbor for six hours today and we had soooo much fun!

It's the first time she's stayed at my house for the afternoon; usually I go to her house to watch her. She played with Sophie and Sadie, jumped on my mini-trampoline, played with a pile of teddy bears, and watched some Noggin.

Oh! Has anyone out there ever seen Yo Gabba Gabba? She was playing in the living room, but when this show started, she stopped, sat down, and was mesmerized for a half hour. The same thing happens when Laura's girls watch it. I don't know what it is about that show, but I love it, too! It's kind of retro-1980's-Devo-Atari-game meets Sesame Street. I've never seen a preschooler who could resist it. Or, apparently, a 39-year old.

Here they all are:

I know! But it's strangely addicting.

Here she is, eating a cracker after what was supposed to be nap time. That didn't go very well. I don't think she ever shut her eyes. Every time I peeked at her, she was smiling at me.

She's being potty trained, and every time she goes successfully, she gets a sticker. Somehow we lost her stickers after about 10 minutes at my house, so I used my return address labels instead. She thought it would be funny to stick them all over herself, so I gave her the roll and let her have at it.

We read books and then she occupied herself by taking all the lids off my Yankee Candle collection and putting them back on. I had all these toys out for her to play with, and she had the most fun with the candles.

And if you don't feel you've been sufficiently bombarded with cuteness, please enjoy these two little camera phone videos of Hope.

only fun

2009-01-14T22:17:00.000-05:00

Katie on her 12th birthday, last March.

Tonight, I will discuss only fun topics. The happiest moments I'm having lately are at the theater. Other areas of my life are causing angst and worry, but onstage I am completely content. This is very wierd.

I auditioned for the play to branch out, do something that scared me, and gain confidence. I've always felt awkward in front of big groups of people, so I thought it would be, as annoying teachers from high school liked to say "a good learning experience".

What I didn't expect is that I would be having so much FUN. I can hardly wait for rehearsal nights (even though it's great to have a night off, like tonight). It's stressful, crazy, confusing, and wonderful. I'm learning so much, like how to trust myself and other people, conquer the fear, and just enjoy it.

Other fun things to ponder:

Joss Whedon's (creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Firefly) new series Dollhouse. They all kind of look plastic and odd in this photo. Back off the Photoshop, people!

Coraline, a stop-motion film based on Neil Gaiman's novella:

And this cute and creative site. I find myself wanting to own a plush toilet, stick of butter, and angry slice of toast.

wish

2009-01-12T22:42:00.000-05:00

being brave

2009-01-11T18:22:00.001-05:00

My neighbor's dog.

You know how you read other people's blogs, click on their links, then click on their links, and pretty soon you have twelve browser tabs open and don't know how you got to the page you're reading? That's how I stumbled onto this blog entry.

It made me question how I "take the edge off" my own life. What am I doing to numb myself? Comfort eating, drinking a few more beers than necessary, sleeping, holing up in my house, movies, sewing, photography? Where is the line drawn between a relaxing day at home and hiding, or between a hobby and an escape?

I think I've lost my edge. Sometimes I feel so worn out that it's easier to numb myself than to set myself up for the possibility of more disappointment. I worry that I've become so emotionally dead inside that if I actually find a healthy relationship, I won't even be able to recognize it. And I worry that while I'm busy padding my heart with bubble wrap and clunking around in a suit of armor, I'm also shielding myself from the good things in life.

This will never work. Plus, a metal suit isn't all that flattering.

I promise myself to get out of my comfort zone. Feel the edge. Be a bit afraid. Vulnerable. And open to all sorts of possibilities.

snowy night out

2009-01-10T23:49:00.004-05:00

The ceiling and part of a balcony at the Detroit Music Hall, taken with my Canon Digital Elph.

Ever since I was blown away by Giselle last March, I've wanted to see another ballet. Tonight I took myself to see Don Quixote, performed by the Russian National Ballet at the Detroit Music Hall. Although it didn't capture my heart like Giselle did (there is just something about that ballet!), it was fantastic and fun. I enjoy getting dressed up and going downtown, seeing something new, and people watching.

It had snowed for two days straight, dumping 9 or more inches on the area. I love snow, so that's fine with me - the more, the better. But it also made for some slow driving on my way downtown. The freeways were completely covered in snow so I couldn't tell what lane I was in, if any. It was like one gigantically wide road.

I snuck this photo, without flash, as the dancers were taking their bows. Shhh! Don't tell anyone . . .

Here's everyone leaving the Music Hall after the ballet.
It would be a nicer photo without the huge snowplow parked right in front.

and then a week later . . .

2009-01-08T22:43:00.000-05:00

My Christmas vacation was the equivalent of getting cracked on the head. Twice.

Right before the holidays, I learned something that stirred up all sorts of emotions, both old and new, and pushed me into a tailspin that I'm still kind of coming out of. I won't elaborate. You've all been there. Heartbreak? Despair? Going to your counseling session in your pajamas? Yep, see, you understand.

So the past three weeks were all about purging unwanted blech from my life. It went something like this:

Four days before Christmas (as undisclosed bomb of news drops on my life)
Universe: Clean out the emotional crap, Lisa.
Me: I don't want to. It hurts too much.
Universe: Your heart is broken and you're angry. You have no choice.

Then a few days later (as my basement fills with water)
Universe: Clean out the cluttery crap, Lisa.
Me: I don't want to. I hate dealing with clutter. Really, really hate it.
Universe: Your carpet is underwater and a sock is floating by. You have no choice.

I saw a pattern forming (because I'm quick like that), so I listened. I worked and worked and worked, on the inside of me and the basement of my house. I read self-help books, thought about things, and hauled boxes of soggy junk to the trash. It sucked. It was not exactly how I had pictured two weeks off from work.

Last night I was completely, utterly physically and emotionally exhausted. Just done. I got home at 5:00, put on my pajamas, and fell asleep on the couch until 8:30. Then I got up and went to bed. So overall, I slept about 12 hours: one of those deep, cleansing sleeps where you just conk out and your house could get blown out to sea and you wouldn't wake up. Meanwhile, your brain takes the opportunity to rewire and process and clean out the bad stuff, do some filing and sweeping, so that when you wake up, your head is more clear. Today is the first day I've felt like everything might be all right.

This year, my resolution is to be selfish - in a positive, self-nurturing way. I'm tired of pleasing people or worrying that they'll be mad at me. I'm tired of being superwoman and taking on too much because I can't say no. And I'm really tired of fake feelings, fake relationships, and not telling people how I really feel. I want to ask myself at every moment: are you doing this/saying this/feeling this because you truly want to, or because you're worried about what other people think? Why is this person in your life and is this relationship in your best interest? Maybe it took me until January 8th to come up with my resolution, but I think it still counts.

Today feels more like the beginning of a new year than a week ago. All I need is a party hat, noisemakers, and a glass of champagne. Oh, and maybe a cheese platter.

solitary evening

2009-01-01T01:12:00.001-05:00

Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball,
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Thorough the iron gates of life:
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.

– from "To His Coy Mistress" by Andrew Marvell (1621 – 1678)

I've always loved that poem, and it seems so appropriate tonight. I resolve to burst through my life in 2009 and not sit back as an observer. Sign me up to participate.

I spent my New Year's Eve by myself, hanging out in my little house with the furry creatures and the Project Runway marathon. It's the first time in decades, or maybe ever, that I've spent this night alone. And I don't feel particularly bad about that. It was an introspective evening of plans and goals and lessons learned, and I got to enjoy it in my pajamas in my favorite place in the world: my home.

I made myself spinach lasagna (recipe is at the end of this post) and garlic bread (the buttery store-bought kind in the foil that has like 800 calories per bite) and sipped on Sam Adams lager all evening.

At midnight, I watched the ball drop in Times Square on television (trivia: Dick Clark and I share the same birthday). Here's the ball at exactly midnight:

Then I put on my coat and boots and rushed outside to meet 2009. I lit a candle in my yard and watched it twinkle in the snow.

It was cold. I came in, warmed up, and ate brie on crackers and Mediterranean olives.

I love the fresh start of a new year; it's like we all get a second chance. Even me.

Lisa's Spinach Lasagna
(this recipe will serve one extremely hungry person, two average people, or three people with tiny stomachs. I usually eat half of it one day and the rest of it the next.)

1 cup ricotta cheese
1 cup mozzarella cheese (with some extra to sprinkle over the top)
1 cup thawed, very well-drained, frozen chopped spinach
1/2 teaspoon fresh or dry basil
pinch of red pepper
fresh garlic cloves, finely chopped, to taste (I use about a teaspoon)
salt, to taste
3-4 lasanga noodles

Mix all ingredients except noodles. Boil noodles, 2 at a time, until flexible but not mushy. Place a noodle in the bottom of a bread loaf pan (I use those disposable aluminum ones), then a layer of the cheese mixture. Alternate layers and finish with a final lasagna noodle. Sprinkle mozzarella cheese across the top. Cover with foil and bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes, removing foil during the last 10 minutes of baking. Let it sit a few minutes before cutting.

I don't use sauce in this recipe, but feel free to use spaghetti sauce between the layers of lasagna noodles, if you'd like. It's great served with garlic bread and a salad.

last morning of the year

2008-12-31T10:13:00.005-05:00

I was awake at 6:30 a.m. this morning and could not fall back to sleep. The early sun spilled all this purple light into my yard, so I had no choice but to go outside and take photos.

what a feeling

2008-12-30T13:07:00.002-05:00

I spent the morning in the basement, mopping, throwing stuff away, drying things out and repacking them in plastic bins, and doing loads and loads and loads of laundry.

Upstairs on a break, I saw that Sophie had somehow pulled one of her legs out of her sweater, and she looked so much like Jennifer Beals that I had to run for my camera. And then suddenly she was on the cover of a DVD.

here comes the flood

2008-12-29T19:11:00.019-05:00

Me and my freakishly long toes, standing in the water in my basement near my infrared sauna this morning.
You can see the water soaking into the sauna floor.

Today, I had planned to meet an old college friend for lunch in Ann Arbor. I haven't seen him since maybe 1992, so I was really excited to catch up with him and discuss how much has changed since then. I imagined a long, lingering lunch, filled with funny stories of the past, interesting stories of our lives today, maybe a bittersweet tear or two.

So I woke up, drank coffee, and hopped in the shower. Then I printed a map to the restaurant, cleaned out my purse, put on makeup, and got dressed. The final, easiest task was to get clean socks from the dryer in the basement, put on my shoes, and leave. I scampered down the steps . . . and into 4" of water. I couldn't process it right away. Why were my feet wet? Why was the bowl of cat food floating slowly past the doorway? When it finally dawned on me that my storm drain was clogged yet again (this happened to me five years ago, but I only got an inch of water that time), all I could do was scream "CRAP!!!!!"

Crap for being such a packrat and disorganized slob that 4" of water in the basement could ruin everything sitting in cardboard boxes on the floor. Crap that I had let the basement get so filled with stuff in the first place. Crap that I would have to call my friend and cancel, and then deal with the sloggy mess.

I called a plumber to come and snake out the drain, then made a claim with my homeowner's insurance. I am most concerned that my treadmill and my new infrared sauna will sustain the most damage. The other stuff - boxes of more Christmas decorations, boxes of whatever, and piles of laundry - can for the most part be washed or dried. Luckily, the water was clean-ish melted snow, flooding the basement after a few days of 50 degree weather and rain. Nothing bacteria ridden or disgusting. I'd post more photos of the waterlogged mess, but frankly, my basement completely embarrasses me.

Here's a New Year's resolution: I will no longer use cardboard boxes for storage!! As soon as I sort out what I'm saving or tossing, I'm taking my disorganized self to Target for plastic storage bins with lids. And the really important stuff, like photos, papers, and other memorabilia, will be stored in the attic. What is wrong with me? How did things get so bad? Oh! And the other resolution? Yearly appointments with the plumber to spin the roots out of my storm drain. It's either that or pay $4,500 to have my yard dug up and tiles replaced, and I really can't see myself getting all excited about that.

Although I'm dreading the massive cleanup of dirty water residue, and the mud, roots, and general yuck that got spun onto the floor during the drain cleaning, I really cannot complain. People have survived horrible floods and lost their entire houses and everything they own. I can't imagine that. I am just inconvenienced and forced to organize and clean something that should have been done a long time ago. I may have lost a boom box, carpeting, and a power drill, but those are replaceable items. On the positive side, at least I'll start the new year with a sparkling fresh basement.

And on an even happier note, please enjoy this photo of my nieces posing in a rare, sweet sisterly moment. They're wearing the flannel nightgowns I made them for Christmas.

longest night of the year

2008-12-21T23:19:00.008-05:00

Happy winter solstice. I finally managed to put up my tree today. I seriously considered just taking the box back downstairs and skipping the whole thing this year, but I made my mopey self do it.

Then I made possibly the most depressing iTunes mix ever to be heard during the holiday season:

Breathe Me - Sia
Sometimes You Can't Make it on Your Own - U2
The Edge of the Ocean - Ivy
Farewell - Rosie Thomas
Living in Twilight - The Weepies
Both Sides Now - Joni Mitchell (Love Actually version)
Prayer for the Dying - Seal
No Surprises - Radiohead
Into the Fire - Thirteen Senses
Mazzy Star - Dust

Then I ate cupcakes. And took a nap. The windchill here was -20, so it was nice to hunker down on the couch while the wind blew snow against the windows.

Here is my oldest ornament, given to me by my kindergarten teacher. It's a gold glass ball, with my name on it in red nail polish.

And on the reverse, it says the year. Yikes, that was a long time ago.

This is the neckline of one of the nightgowns I made for my nieces. I still have to do some finishing on the elastic wristbands, but they're almost done.

And here is my tree.

heap big snow

2008-12-20T16:10:00.002-05:00

We had a glorious snow storm here Thursday night. Most of lower Michigan got 9-12". I woke up to the above view of my street (and my neighbor's lonely lit tree) around 7 a.m., snow coming down an inch or more per hour.

Today I cleaned my house, shoveled my driveway, and finished more handmade Christmas gifts; photos to follow tomorrow. My tree is still not up, though it is in a box on my living room floor - so that's progress. Maybe I should just decorate the box with lights and leave it at that.

I've been wandering in and out of the holiday spirit, annoyed at being single yet another year, and missing my grandparents more than ever. But then I think of my nieces and my family and friends, my job, my pets, and my health, and I can't help but be grateful for what I have. I think as you get older, Christmas becomes more about taking stock of your life and remembering what's really important. Like this little cutie who arrived last spring:

snow!

2008-12-17T17:39:00.002-05:00

We had about 4" of snow last night, and now everything looks more Christmasey. Here is the front of my house. I still don't have my tree up, but I was able to spend ten minutes hanging my wreath on the hook and decorating the windowbox with three trees and some berry garland. The snow hanging off of everything gives it a nice effect.

Here's Sophie in her festive snowman t-shirt. She's not a fan of the snow, probably because she doesn't have a lot of hair (but it's slowly growing in, finally).

Sadie, on the other hand, LOVES the snow. She runs big circles around the yard, spins around, kicks up her little paws, and dashes away again. Here she is in action.

I'm off to the theater for another rehearsal. Time to find something comfy to change into.

album complete

2008-12-16T22:23:00.004-05:00

Here's another sneak preview for Gracie & Derek. Their wedding album is all finished and at the printer's. Hooray!

rehearsal

2008-12-15T22:36:00.004-05:00

The essentials: script, pencil, water, gum.

The directors, directing.

Members of the cast watch the opening scene.

Me, waiting to go onstage.

reaching out to touch you

2008-12-13T20:33:00.006-05:00

Who remembers Ice Castles from 1978? Growing up, it was one of my favorite movies, because it was about (of course) skating. Tonight it was on TV, and I watched it as I sorted through the piles of clutter in my living room. It's your classic athlete-falls-from-the-top-and-rises-again movie, complete with 70's melodramatic music, a supportive boyfriend, a loving dad, feathered hair, a possible career-ending injury, jumpsuits, and jealous fellow skaters.

My favorite part is when the audience starts throwing roses on the ice after Lexi's performance, not knowing she's partially blind. She trips and falls down, and loving Nick comes scooting out on the ice, helps her up, and whispers "we forgot about the roses." Lexi's kind and forgiving, while I would have been all "Nick, you are such an idiot. Why don't you just throw me down a flight of stairs while you're at it?" And we would have argued our way off the ice. Of course, that would have ruined the happy ending.

Now I have the theme song stuck in my head, and unfortunately I know all the words because we sang it in choir in high school. My poor dogs. Every time I come around the corner, I start bellowing "PLEASE! Don't let this feeling END!" and sing the whole verse through "looking through . . . the eyyyyeeesss, of looooooooovvve!" That song is a timeless classic.

feeding frenzy

2008-12-12T18:30:00.005-05:00

The Black Apple doll I made for Gen hangs out with my doll before being shipped to Australia.

Today we had our departmental potluck Christmas party. My eating has been all over the place lately, with being busy with the play, taking road trips, and dealing with all the holiday food. I weighed myself this morning and discovered that I've pretty much broken even, which was shocking (considering, among other things, the Olive Garden feast last weekend in Pennsylvania). I've kept off the weight I lost this fall, which is good, but still have more to go.

I didn't want to totally stuff myself and then sit at my desk all afternoon, bloated and reeking of meatballs. So I decided that I'd have a scoop of everything I really wanted, skip the food that didn't look interesting, only make one trip, and only have one dessert. It worked out really well. Instead of feeling like I had to sample everyone's food and eat it whether I liked it or not, I enjoyed my favorite things and finished it off with a slice of raspberry cheesecake. When I was tempted to go back, I asked myself "do you really want to work off those calories in the new year?" The answer was no. I keep reminding myself that every calorie counts, and making little changes here and there is better than doing nothing at all.

Now I just have to survive the cookie exchange.

anticipation is building

2008-12-10T22:37:00.002-05:00

Sarah at her baby shower, holding up little booties from Donna. I love Piper's expression in the background.

Another quickie post here. I feel like I get up in the morning and don't stop moving until I go to sleep. I don't have my tree up yet, my house is trashed, and most of my meals come in a little Lean Cuisine box. But I'm having a great time!

I've been working all week on a Big Important Project that hopefully will be unveiled to you all sometime next week. Feel free to become giddy with excitement.

somewhere in pennsylvania . . .

2008-12-08T22:40:00.016-05:00

Donna and I had a great time in Pennsylvania! Here are the highlights:

We dripped fast food all over our shirts just 10 minutes into the trip.

Somehow we missed the exit for the correct freeway and ended up an hour off-course. This resulted in taking side roads through the mountains in total darkness while it was snowing, and arriving at Sarah's house at 10:30 p.m.

At a gas station/store, I meant to tell Donna not to choose pizza to eat because Sarah's family was having it for us once we arrived and I didn't want her to eat pizza twice in one evening. It came out as "don't eat because Sarah is feeding us when we get there." Imagine her surprise when I came out with a big roast beef sandwich.

The baby shower was fun! Such yummy food and great company

A huge flock of birds fluttered over us and came to rest in them middle of our lane as we were flying 75 mph down the freeway. Donna screamed "GET OUT OF THE WAY" while I hid my face, both reactions very effective. And no, we didn't hit any birds.

Donna spilled her entire container of fries all over the floor as she was driving. Then, after another rest stop, she tried to unlock the wrong car, and another motorist commented "you won't get home in that car."

I lost the baby shower greeting card five minutes after I was asked to sign it. It ended up in my luggage and we brought it back home.

I'm sure there are plenty more, but it's late and I'm tired. Donna? Anything to add?

road trip

2008-12-05T00:45:00.004-05:00

Sarah, six weeks ago.

I'm off to Pennsylvania tomorrow (or I guess: today! I can't believe I'm still up and packing . . . ) for Sarah's baby shower. I'll be back on Sunday. Photos, wacky stories, and adventures from the road to follow.

making a list, checking it twice, gasping in horror

2008-12-02T13:47:00.009-05:00

Dashing in here to post these photos of the Jersey girls from October.

I just made a list of everything I need to get done before Christmas, and with rehearsals, work, craft projects, photography commitments, and a weekend road trip in the mix, I feel like curling up in a ball in my closet and hiding until New Year's Day.

If you lose all contact with me, you can find me huddled behind old bridesmaid dresses, a pile of shoes, and a basket of summer clothes. Bring beer.

39 and holding

2008-11-30T20:37:00.003-05:00

Every year I wish for snow on my birthday, something I've done since I was little. Right now our area is being whomped with all sorts of snow, sleet, wind and other winter wickedness, so I'm quite pleased. I spent my day raking leaves before the snow fell, going through the photos I took on Thanksgiving, and eating lemon Girl Scout cookies.

I have higher hopes for this year, or at least more faith in myself to be brave and make things happen. I have lots of big plans, both internal and external, and I couldn't be more excited. So happy birthday to me, this last year of my thirties. I plan to go out with a bang.

I'll leave you with my favorite photos from my niece's photo shoot. She's almost 13 and looking scarily grown up!

thankful

2008-11-26T18:42:00.005-05:00

Dreaming of vacations to come . . .

I don't know why I've been so mopey lately. I mean, seriously! It's the holiday season and I am very grateful for what I do have at the moment.

Let's make a list, shall we?

I am grateful for:

Having a stable job that I love, in a creative field. Especially in the abysmal Detroit/Michigan economy.

Owning a house, which I also love. It's tiny, it's cute, and it's decorated in a way that's so me. I love every room.

My family. My nieces, who I would do anything for. And my newest niece, the sweet and adorable Hope, who will be enjoying her first Christmas this year.

My friends, spread everywhere from Australia to Alaska, New Jersey to Michigan and back again.

My happy zoo of pets: pomeranians Sophie and Sadie, cats Murphy and Lucy, frog Toby, and fish Wiggy.

My health. Although I technically still have Lyme disease, I am leaps and bounds better than I was a year ago. In fact, I'm more healthy than I have been in almost FIVE years. I am able to hold a pen, mow my lawn, spell words, tell a story, go shopping, and do a multitude of things that were impossible in the worst moments of my disease.

My neighbors. Tonight I gave my little two-year old neighbor her photo book and the Black Apple doll I made her.

She was so happy that she didn't want to go home. She kept walking over to the shelf where I had all the "practice" dolls and hugging them.

So there. My list of gratefulness.

I'm headed to my parents' house tomorrow morning for a big, whompin' turkey dinner, which I intend to enjoy in great quantities. And then it's my birthday on Sunday. Photos, commentary, and meaningless thoughts to follow.

dark darkness

2008-11-24T17:26:00.003-05:00

Leaves frozen in the birdbath.

It is so dark. SO DARK.

I took this photo with the very last of the daylight, around 5 p.m. It's dim, gray, gloomy, damp, and schloopy outside, and I'm pretty much feeling that way on the inside, too. It's a combination of so many things. The onset of winter. Having two colds in a month. Going to work in the dark to a windowless building, and then coming home in the dark. Approaching my 39th birthday in a week, taking stock, and finding so many empty spaces for dreams that never came true.

It's just one of those nights.

fille malade la deuxième partie

2008-11-22T11:06:00.001-05:00

Yesterday when the alarm went off, I could barely force myself out of bed. I spent the day groggy, congested, and slightly achey. The first thing that always comes to mind is "crap, the Lyme is flaring again." Because I just had a cold. Like two weeks ago. So I couldn't have another one, right?

Um. Yeah. I'm sick again. I don't know why I'm catching everything this season; it's not even officially winter, and I've been sick twice. Maybe the unseasonably cold weather? Who knows. It's annoying.

I was awake at the ungodly hour of 7:30 a.m. this morning. On a SATURDAY. After laying there sniffing, sneezing, and unable to fall back to sleep, I got up. It was a pretty morning, with dim early-winter morning light, so I took the dogs out and grabbed my camera, capturing these photos.

Last night I took my sickly self to see Twilight. I'm pretty sure I was one of the oldest people in the audience - most were teenage girls, giggling with their friends. I never really feel old until I'm surrounded by high schoolers. Even though I've been graduated from high school for (eh-hem) 21 years, it really doesn't seem like that long ago. Looking around at the line of young people waiting at the theater, I realized that I could be these kids' mom. Their mom!! When my mom was my age, I was in 18 or 19 and in college. I just can't imagine.

But I digress. Anyway, the movie was GREAT! I think they did a fantastic job interpreting the book; they even made Bella more edgy and strong than the rather wimpish way she appears in the book. The strangest thing was that movie looked exactly how I had pictured the book in my head. Everything - Bella's house, her truck, the cafeteria, the town - was like they had lifted it right from my brain. That is scary, indeed.

And I totally want Victoria's hair:

It's now 11 a.m. and I'm going back to bed to try and sleep off this cold. Stupid germs.