Truth or Dare

Oh I am BAD....so, so very BAD. I really should just be banished to an island far, far away. With cabana boys and endless supplies of mojitos. This sounds like heaven to you?

So much YOU know. Mojitos....blech! Margartias....HELLO! Sweet...not so much. Salty...I'm your gal.

So today is Truth or Dare at the ole SG challenge, courtesy of moi. Hence the TWIST. Spill your guts or take the dare.

And I decided to get down and dirty and dish!

The Rules.

Describe in excruciating detail your MOST embarassing moment. The one where you wanted to crawl in a hole and die. No holding back. We want every teensy eensy agonizing detail.

Don't feel like sharing your skeletons a la the written word?

Then find your most embarassing photo and do a layout "honoring" it. No holding back peeps. The photo needs to be THE focus of the layout. You can journal or not...but a brutally honest title needs to be included.

So which shall I choose? The written word or the hard cold photographic evidence.

Phewwwww

Saved by a non functioning scanner....WOOT!

So to my MOST embarassing moment.

Flashback to

Junior year in High School

Field Trip.

Do you have goose bumps yet? Seriously. Think about it. 17 years old and field trip. Those two things alone should be enough to conjure up dread and foreboding in any sane person's mind.


The setting

St Louis Museum of Art

The time

Why that TOM of COURSE!

Ohhhh you know where this is going don't you!

So. Flashback to a tall gawky 17 year old lurching off the bus with excruciating cramps.

Walking, walking through the Monet exhibit...all the while feeling like she is about to pass out.

But NO!

She can not pass out, because there is humilation yet to come!

Yes folks, her light colored skirt bears the mark of all her pain and suffering.

A quick thinking teacher, grabbed the sweater from her shoulders and wrapped it around the poor girl's waist before anyone else (well almost everyone...more on that later) can see and herds her onto the bus right before she collapses.

Cramps were a NO PICNIC to say the least, until HELLO...discovery of birth control pills!

So fast forward 20 years. High school reunion.

Mingling, small talk, bLAH, BLAH, BLAH...GAH....HATE reunions, file away for NEVER do again

THEN

Run into some girl I barely remember, more small talk, more BLAH,BLAH,BLAH

THEN

"I told my niece about what happened to you at the museum. And that everyone has moments when they just want to crawl in a hole and die. And that you'll survive"

OY

I am a life example on how to handle humiliation?

Note to self...again....DO NOT GO TO ANYMORE REUNIONS.

WORD

Define Yourself!

Blog Challenge today up at Scrapgal is take the letters of your name and pick adjectives that start with those letters and well....define yourself!

I feel a "Madonna like" vogue bust a move coming on...ha

So let's see

Oh it would be so easy to go with lovely or lovable or lighthearted...because all those are things that I long to be, but am not. So it's got to be

L - learn·er noun
a person who is learning; student; pupil; apprentice; trainee.

I'm all about the process people. I feel like I am a student of life, of people, of being. I am never happier than when someone is showing me a new way to do an old and tired task. Or when I discover something new to me

I

Innocent...NOT! Incomparable? Maybe! Ioconclastic? Nope....the Aquarian in me refuses to shove my beliefs on any other folks.

I'll take idealist for $100 Alex

i·de·al·ist –noun
1.a person who cherishes or pursues high or noble principles, purposes, goals, etc.

2.a visionary or impractical person.

3.a person who represents things as they might or should be rather than as they are.

4.a writer or artist who treats subjects imaginatively.

5.a person who accepts the doctrines of idealism.

#3 probably sums me up the best. The glass is half empty...pshawww....nope half full baby. And there's always tomorrow!


S - sen·si·tive–adjective

1.endowed with sensation; having perception through the senses.

2.readily or excessively affected by external agencies or influences.

3.having acute mental or emotional sensibility; aware of and responsive to the feelings of others.

4.easily pained, annoyed, etc.

5.pertaining to or connected with the senses or sensation.

6.Physiology. having a low threshold of sensation or feeling.

7.responding to stimuli, as leaves that move when touched.
8.
highly responsive to certain agents, as photographic plates, films, or paper.
9.
affected or likely to be affected by a specified stimulus (used in combination): price-sensitive markets.

Again here I am going with #3. Is that a sign? #3? Hmmmm
Anywhooo.....I'll cop to this one. I am hypersensitive. I can read people's moods as easily as a 12th grader can read "See Dick Run". For me, this means I know when to hold them and know when to fold them. Kenny Rogers...get thee to the back of the bus!


A - ar·tis·tic –adjective

1. conforming to the standards of art; satisfying aesthetic requirements: artistic productions.

2. showing skill or excellence in execution: artistic workmanship.

3 exhibiting taste, discriminating judgment, or sensitivity: an artistic arrangement of flowers; artistic handling of a delicate diplomatic situation.

4. exhibiting an involvement in or appreciation of art, esp. the fine arts: He had wide-ranging artistic interests.

5. involving only aesthetic considerations, usually taken as excluding moral, practical, religious, political, or similar concerns: artistic principles.

6. of art or artists: artistic works.

7. of, like, or thought of as characteristic of an artist: an artistic temperament.

And to cap it off, just to be contrary, I will pick 3 AND 4. I've always struggled with calling myself an artist. It seemed so, I don't know, boastful.

But reading the definitions...yep. I think I can safely classify myself as artistic. I'm sensitive "see S above" Geesh peeps, I cry at Hallmark commercials. I am such a SAP. Hey! Maybe S should be for SAP!

AND I have a great appreciation of art. Sometimes that appreciation translates into actual physical manisfestations of what others would consider art.

And then again not.

But there you have it

LISA defined!

The Coach's Wife

This is the tale of the Coach's Wife, Little League style.

The Coach's Wife.

She remembers to fill the water cooler and have it ready for every game. Despite some little stinkers who complain that the water is tap and not bottled. Yeah right kiddos, like she's going to fill the cooler with $10 of bottled water each game only to watch you spray your teammates in the dugout with the contents.

She memorizes the names and numbers of every kid on the team.So she can cheer for each child by name and yell encouragement from the stands. No matter how many dropped balls and muffed plays from kids in the field who would rather gaze at the sky than play ball.Because it is in FACT, only a game.

She gently reminds the kids in the dugout to pick up their hats from the ground, to pay attention to the game, to cheer on their teammates…good or bad. And all the while, she misses her husband, the family dinners, her downtime.

She resents the constant rush to complete homework and the stress of trying to make something in 15 minutes for her kids to eat so they can leave with the Coach. The same Coach who goes to the park an hour before the game to help any kids who want to take extra batting or fielding practice.

But still she sits in the stands. And watches. Watches her husband give a pat on the back, a shout of encouragement, hold his breath, hold his tongue. And in return?

One night a grandfather sits in the stands. His grandchild, a player on the husband’s team, leaves the dugout, once, twice, twenty times. To stuff his face with snacks from his grandfather. No other child snacks mind you. No other child leaves.

Because.....those are the Coach’s rules. And finally, the coach says something to the child leaving the dugout.“Hey buddy….let’s stay in the game okay?”

Then the coach’s son, who was batting a thousand, yes a THOUSAND, through the first five games of the season, fails to get on base on his next at bat.Even though he has already had two hits that game, he is VERY upset.

He feels like he has let his team down.They need the runs. He is angry with himself. He starts to cry. He comes out of the dugout to his mom, the Coach's wife, who gives him a hug and tells him that EVERYONE strikes out. It’s part of the game. He’s doing great, hang in there.

THEN....Oh then, the greasy haired grandfather with his nasty curled ponytail that reminds her of a pig’s tail...he says

“What???? Doesn’t the coach’s son have to stay in the dugout??”

In response? The coach’s wife gives her son a gentle pat on the back and tells him to get back to the dugout with his teammates.

The the coach's wife turns to the greasy haired shit of a grandfather and gives him a measured stare and says…nothing.

What she wants to say is “Listen here you jerk. My husband has said nothing for the past hour while your grandson chows down and flouts the rules, leaves the dugout and basically thumbs his nose at my husband and his teammates. And you have the cojones to complain that I am comforting my child who is visibly upset. Well SCREW you”

But she said nothing. Just gave him the death stare. And stood her ground. Remained in the stands and continued to cheer for the team. And the other team when they made good plays.

Because….. she is me....I am the coach’s wife.

Movies Magic

If ever there was sure fire way to make me feel better when I am down in the dumps (aside from snuggles from my boys!) it is the magic of a really good movie.

I know my challenge was to name your favorite of all time, but I'm sorry I can't limit myself to just one.

Rules....who said there were any rules!?!

So here's my short list

In the category of "Make me laugh so hard I Cry " is

Princess Bride. Oh my.

"Have fun storming the castle" (this one is my rolling screen banner at work)
"My name is Inigo Montoya.. You killed my father. Prepare to die."
"You rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles. "
Inigo Montoya: You seem a decent fellow. I hate to kill you. Westley: You seem a decent fellow. I hate to die.

And the list just goes on and on and on and on.

And I laugh and laugh and laugh.

It's my little happy pill in a 120 minute film. 120 minutes of laughter does a lot of good for my soul

In the special category category of "Positive Life Messages Set to Music"

my pick goes to "Sound of Music"

Because there's just something about a singing nun healing a brood of motherless children and finding love with their broken father (even though he doesn't know he's broken) and finding her own life path in the process....all set to GLORIOUS music that makes MY soul sing!

And hey, it's fun to watch the Nazi's get bested by a bunch of non-violent nuns!

Finally the winner in "Best Overall"

the award goes to .......hands down.....Field of Dreams

Baseball, James Earl Jones, never giving up on your dreams, sassy, spunky women, redemption, forgiveness. This one has it all.

Enjoy the show!

I ain't afraid of

....no GHOST!

I debated on going with "Twighlight Zone" or genuine "Fear Factor" with this post, but decided I'd give you a good one to share around the campfire.

So Twighlight Zone it is......you may or may not want to sleep with the light on tonight!

Read on to see what I mean

The summer after my senior year in college, I spent about a month living with my best friend Julie and her family, while I tried to figure out what to do with my life.

In many ways, I still am trying to figure it out..HA!

Anyway, Julie was and is what a lot of people would call "psychic." I know a lot of folks don't believe in that kind of stuff. I'm of the opinion that there is a WHOLE lot that the scientific community doesn't know about how the brain and the time space porperties, so I'm not willing to discount anything at this point in my life.

What I have seen and experienced, especially with Julie, definitely has me leaning more towards it's probably rather than not.

Like the time we were down in Florida for Spring Break and I was driving. We had come to a stoplight at an off ramp from the highway. I was about the fourth car back and was rolling forward to start through the intersection, when Julie screamed at me to stop. I slammed on the brakes and a car came tearing through the intersection at about 80 miles an hour. We would have been toast for sure.

Now you're saying to yourself, "Big Deal...she saw the car coming" Well you would be wrong. At the time, she was turned around in her car seat with her head down, trying to recover a map off the floor. She never saw the car coming.

doodoodoodoo

But back to our main story

So I'm spending the summer with her and she tells me when I move in, "Don't be alarmed if the lights in my room go on and off in the middle of the night."

Of course I gave her "The Look" like spill it girl. Why would the lights be going on and off unless you were turning them on and off?

She told me that she would be sound asleep and lights, different lights, would go on and off for no apparent reason.

Of course I thought she was full of beans and seriously considered moving out before I had unpacked, but she was my best firend and I just figured there was something wacky with the electrical wiring in her room.

her dad overhearing us, told me that he had been concerned about this as well, afraid there was faulty wiring in the room or even with some of the lamps. So he had had an electrician in to check eveything out and the room and the lamps were given a clean bill of health.

I was a little mystified but figured, hey...if it didn't bother her, it shouldn't bother me.

So about three days after I had moved in, I got up in the middle of the night to use the restroom.

I was obviously conditioned at an early age to be a mother!

AS I walked past her room, the door was ajar, Julie's nightlight was on and her two teacup poodles were asleep on her bed. I could see that Julie was sound asleep.

As I left the bathroom, and I approached her bedroom door I could see that it was still ajar and I saw that Julie was STILL sound asleep .

THEN...right when I was in the doorway, her bedside table light came ON!

Seriously, I about peed my pants.....amazing feat considering where I had just been!

As I stood there with my mouth hanging open and my heart in my throat, Julie remained sleeping BUT the dogs leapt up and did their "alert" stance staring at the light You know the stance dogs do when they can see or hear something and you can't?

FREAKED ME OUT!

Then before I could bolt for my bedroom, the light went out again!!!!

Well....I dashed for my bed, leapt under the covers and didn't budge until morning!

When I told Julie what had happened the next morning, she kind of smiled and said "Well I guess my "guardians" feel comfortable with you"

She went on to explain, that she often felt the presence of people who had passed on and she believed she was a magnet for those with unresolved issues. She said she would pray for them and eventually they would move on.

I did continue to stay with her that summer. I guess that makes me REALLY brave HUH? Or stupid...bwa! And I witnessed the lights on/lights off action several more times...always with different lights in the room. Always when Julie was asleep. And the dogs reaction was always the same.

That's what I get for my nocturnal bathroom breaks!

When she got older, word of her reputation got around, and the local FBI and police departments would call her in to see if she could help with unsolved cases.

She did this up until the time she had kids. After her first child, she quit because she said it was too hard on her having that "negative" energy from crime scenes tagging along with her when she went back home.

So there's my story. Believe it or not!

To Do or NOT to do

THAT is the question as posed by Shandy on the blog challenge for today.

Oh where to start? Well I guess I'll go all Julie Andrews in the "Sound of Music" on you and "Start at the very beginning...a very good place to start..." Do Re Mi...Do Re Mi.... Oh look the hills are alive with the sound of music. Watch your back Maria, the Baroness is going to put the "smack down" on you. What did Liesle see in that little Nazi?

Huh...what? Sorry. Focus, focus, focus

Iron Shirts for boys to wear at chapel this morning (Is it too early to teach them to iron? I'm thinking not. This is a life skill that will put them in good stead with a future wife and rack me up bennies with the future DIL's)

Pack Snacks in boys book bags (Because the snacks need to last the rest of the week and left up to the "ravenous horde" it would be depleted by tomorrow)

Clean up kitchen after breakfast ( Because DH fixes breakfast every morning. He's a good man. I think I'll keep him)

Pack my lunch and gym bag for work (Because momma is bound and determined to get this bod swimsuit season ready. I walked three miles today. My toes are numb. Moderation? Not in my vocab)

Make sure homework is in book bags (I really need to stop hovering and let them do this themselves. I could have another two minutes in the bathroom if I let go of this one)

Face the "To Do" list at work (It is too long, painful and boring to inflict the details upon you. You should thank me. really. You're welcome!)

Pick boys up at carpool (Hugs all around and nonstop chatter on the drive home. Life is good. The noise level? Approaching the levels of jets taking off)

Stop by Grocery store (Because those little stinkers snuck more snacks. Hard to be mad at them when they're so whip thin and need every calorie. "yes you can have the granola bars. no you can't have 5 cartons of serving size pringles)

Throw some laundry in the dryer. Pull a load out (Hey LOOK....there's that missing sock. The extra cushy ones I use for walking....SWEET! Got to love it when the laundry gods throw you a bone)

Prep Veggies for Dinner (Because 30 minute meals take me 45-60 minutes if I don't!)

On tap for this evening

Science test preparation for oldest. (Anyone want to know the difference between Conduction vs Convection vs Radiation? I know ....I know! I would so totally kick butt at "Are you smarter than a 5th grader!! Uhhmmmm only because I have a 4th grader who does Fifth grade curriculum and I'm learning by osmosis!)

Fix Dinner (and let DH clean up...did I mention that he's a keeper?)

Collapse on sofa with a good book, a glass of wine and the TV tuned to American Idol on low for the last 5 minutes so I can offer up a snarky comments when Sanjaya finally gets the boot.

Peace out peeps!

All good gifts

The blog challenge today is a truth or dare!

Either tell about a present you received that got regifted or the best gift you ever received.

I confess that I have regifted a number of presents over the years.

Because really? How many potholders, dishtowels and placemats does one woman really need? Someone obviously has not checked out my linen drawer in the kitchen. Well I can't really blame them. My linen drawer in the kitchen scares ME!

Or vases? I tell you truly I have received enough vases in my lifetime that I could decorate reception tables for 200 at a wedding.

Oh and then there are the barrettes. I have long hair and so when people go on trips they bring me back barrettes from Africa, Russia, China. They're pretty and all, but here's the thing. I never wear my hair pulled back. Except when I'm working out and then a scrunchy will do.

Do you think they're trying to subtly tell me to get the hair off my face??!!

Hmmmmmmmm

So yes I regift. Because if I didn't, my house would now look like one of those 80 year old ladies who has 20 cats, lace doilies on every flat surface and never threw away a blessed thing in her life.

Purge and pass it on is my motto!

Lisa Needs.....................

Drum roll please.

The blogging challenge for today is ................................

Webster's Wednesdays!

On Wednesdays we will play with words. We will embrace the word. We will celebrate the word.

Somewhere in Florida my mother aka the former English/Home Ec teacher is singing hallelujahs.

We'll get to fun in the kitchen later on. That is a threat AND a promise.

The always funny Joshilyn Jackson (see linky love to the left...Faster than Kudzu), did a meme on her blog a couple days ago where you google your name and needs (see title above).

The results were hysterical...to say the least.

Now I do have to say that hers were much, MUCH funnier than mine. But that's because she is the amazingly brilliant and beautiful Joshilyn.

Mine were good for a giggle. Well I giggled. Chortled. Snickered. And there was one that actually garnered a guffaw.

So let's Define our Needs shall we? Because Webster's, after all, is largely about definitions. You thought it was all about the spelling?
Or pronunciation.?
Or origin?

Pshawwww

Here we go

Lisa needs braces (This one came up, oh I don't know, at least 20 times. For the record I have perfectly straight teeth. Never even had braces. I thank my parents every day for their primo dental genes. Oh and that they didn't let me suck my thumb and took my pacifier from me when I was three. Thanks Mom & Dad (waving)!!

Lisa needs a tree (Uhmmm....no. Thanks for the offer but I have a forest in my backyard. It makes the hubby curseth much in the fall. Because for some unfathomable reason all the leaves from all the adjoining neighbors yards funnel into our yard. Our neighbors are quite happy about the leaves natural selection process for their final resting place. Hubby? Not so much)

LISA needs to more clearly communicate to clients how they can benefit from being members of LISA. (Dudes...I have an organization! And it's named after MOI. SWEEEET! I wonder what the bennies are? I'll forgive the snarky reference to my lack of communication skills. Because SWEEET............... I have an organization!)

Lisa needs help with her vertical blinds. ( Really? Don't own them. Don't want them. Jake the wonder dog would strangle himself in them. Moving on.)

"LISA NEEDS TO GET A LIFE". (That's just so...... SAD. I want to rail against the total inaccuracy of this statement. But I would be wrong..... so very wrong. Anyone have a life they want to lend me? Just for a week or two? Let me try it on? See how it fits? No? Sigh.)

Lisa needs a new schtick (Yes....YES!!! That's the ticket and maybe along the way I'll get a LIFE! Bonus...two for one!)

Lisa Needs Your Help! (Okay. Yes. I GET it. See response above. I'm really TRYING to play nice here. geeeesh.)

Lisa Needs Her Diaper Changed (Because there has been entirely too much crap foisted on her from the previous two observations above)

Lisa needs a beach... (NOW....now we're talking.!!! And while you're at it throw in a kickin cocktail and a cabana boy and Lisa is ALL kinds of happy and she has a life....on the BEACH!)

LISA needs to keep to deadlines (WTH??? I'm at the beach, with a cocktail. Go AWAY!)

I don't think Lisa needs the money (Depends on how much time I spend at the beach and how many cocktails the cabana boy procures)

Lisa needs what she wryly calls "adult supervision" ( Because you guys should have cut me off HOURS ago. Seriously.)

Lisa: NEEDS a nap. But alas she has a TO DO list that is longer than the nap (Which is why the beach, the cabana boy and the endless supply of kickin cocktails remain just a dream. My liver and my conscious thank you most sincerely.)

Your turn

GO!

Life's Like A Box of Chocolates.....

you never know what you're going to get"

Wise man that Forest. Wise woman Forest's Mommy. (I like you! I really, really like you!)

The blog challenge today courtesy of MOI is to take this quote and run with it. Free associate. Dig deep, skim the surface. Be serious, be funny, be irreverent.

Boy that about covers any given five minutes on any given day of my life!

If I was a Spice Girl, "Variety" would be my name. Miss "V" if you're naaaaaaaaaasty.

yep My Life is definitely a box of chocolates

Sometimes nutty, sometimes smooth, sometimes hard, sometimes shocking, sometimes just downright weird (banana creme...blechhhh)

But hey it's ALL chocolate....so at the end of the day....it's ALL good!

What's in a name??

Ahhhh....hello poor little neglected blog...."Shall we play a game?" (name that movie!)

Thanks to the blog challenges at SG (which I will be alternating weekly with Shandy) I am back and blahhhhhging!

So Shandy's challenge for today is

"Tell us about your NAME! yep, that's right... your name. How did your parents come up with it?... is there a story behind it?.... Do you like your name?... if you could have named yourself, would it have been the same or something different?... just go with it!... no rules! We just want to learn more about ya!"

My birth name is Lisa Ann. It was supposed to be Elizabeth Ann and my nickname was to be Lisa.

Lisa was a very popular name at the time and my mother wanted me named after her but with the option of going by a more informal name if I liked and LORD knows there are a whole slew of nicknames for Elizabeth

Let's see

Beth
Betsy
Betty
Liz
Lisa
Eliza

are just a few that I can conjure off the cuff.

But my FATHER, put the exnay on my mom's brilliant (in my opinion) plan because he HATES nicknames. He himself is Philip Edwin, JR, but since there was a Senior he was called Eddie.

And Eddie, oh Lord Eddie, he did have much hate for the nickname. So scarred was he by the indignity suffered that he decided at a VERY tender age that no child of his was going to go through the unspeakable horror of having a nickname they hated. So sayeth the daddy.

And really I can see his point because when I think of Eddie, all I can think of is Eddie Haskell from "Leave it to Beaver" and he was a smarmy, sneaky little shit of the first order.

So my dad said to my mom in the hospital...."Either "Elizabeth" or "Lisa", but not "Elizabeth and we'll call her Lisa" because then I will have to follow her around all the time and not so nicely correct them with my intimidating military glare if they should call her, oh I don't know, Beth and not only will she be scarred for life by the use of random nicknames but also by a father who embarrasses her"

And that's the truth.....or the combined version of the truth as told by my father, my mother and me!

And so sadly I am a Lisa when I really wanted to be an Elisabeth.

And my father and his obsession with no nicknames should have put two and two together and realized the initials of my name spelled LAP.

Yes.....LAP

I'll leave it to your imagination on how many nicknames those three little letters birthed!