Over the years I have had little subtle pebbles tossed in my direction to get my attention. Sometimes they are just little dings that I usually dismiss, and other times they are more like implosions. 0 to 100 that’s me.
It’s not as though there aren’t “in betweens” so to speak, there are, I just choose not to take those too seriously, and always, always, always give other people the benefit of the doubt about their intentions. Seeing the good in others certainly has its ups & downs.
It just never occurred to me that anyone would really be annoyed by another person happy nature? Seems Effed up if you ask me.
So when people have made sly comments about my happy nature or overly enthusiastic reactions, I really didn’t take them too serious. How can anyone be annoyed by happiness?
What could be worse than that you ask? Pulling in the reins on my happy disposition to please the cantankerous crowd. Oh yes, I did!
This is an old habit of mine that has always been hard for me to break, mainly because I want to make the people around me happy, it’s just my nature. Seeing the line between them and me is the struggle. I’m a Pisces, it’s how we roll.
Last week authentic Lisa decided to go into full protest mode and she was not shy about it at all!
There I was attending an unexpected Yoga class on Friday morning. I normally can not attend on Friday because I take my mother shopping, but she called and for whatever reason changed plans. Let the DIVINE intervention shenanigans begin.
During class, we were experiencing the Fish Pose. Now, I am very new to Yoga, and almost always need some sort of adjustment to get the pose correctly. In my head I’m a rubber band, outside not so much.
I got myself into the pose, sort of like an octopus gets into a paper bag, but I did it. Gracefulness is not my forte.
My instructor came over to compliment me on my accomplishment. She stated “Look at that arch Lisa!” “I’m not surprised, you have such an open heart and happy soul.” Validation in the house.
Right after this pose we went into Savasana a/k/a the Corpse pose. Lay flat and do nothing, of course I’m really good at this one. It is the final pose where you calm your nervous system, and relax your mind and body into bliss. It’s heaven.
Well, as I entered my state of bliss I began to cry. My authentic self just lets loose from the depths of the damn closet demanding her freedom, just as I was getting my bliss on. Pay backs are a bitch.
Even Pinterest got involved slamming this quote right in my face!
The reminders are popping up everywhere I go these days, keeping me in check with myself. Hey, we can’t all be at the top of this class called life.
I started this blog ride 3 years ago yesterday, basically to document travel adventures in my husband’s mid-life crisis convertible, but the universe took the wheel for a different ride. I was not in control.
Instead this blog provided me a place to get real with myself by writing it down and bringing it to life. Can’t ignore that anymore…check.
So, here I am again making it real, learning more crap about myself and Enjoying the Ride!
Thanks to all the folks I picked up along the way, you are the best travel companions a girl could have on this bumpy road called life!
I kept thinking about my Lovers Gonna Love post from earlier in the day when I was chillin’ on Cloud 9 with Cupid, but as the evening went on it was getting harder to hold on. Clouds can be slippery you know.
Early in the day I met my BFF for a Yoga class to get my peace on for the day. Our class was great, and as always I left feeling like I just smoked the best pot ever. Not that I would know anything about that .. it’s just a reference.
Now on to the dinner ….. The dinner that we got all gussied up for I might add. The dinner that was planned for weeks in advance with a reservation. The dinner I STARVED for all freaking day! Yea, that dinner.
We arrived at The Bridgeton Mill Inn. We celebrated my 50th birthday there, so we weren’t going in blind. However, something was off as soon as we walked in. Sixth sense kicked right in.
The seating was the first bump. Have you ever set up camp in a sardine can? Let’s just say I know what that might feel like. We were one with the couples on either side of us, which for me isn’t an issue, but for my introvert husband it was not good. I’ll talk to anyone, the husband not so much.
There was a young couple on our left, quiet as two church mice and a MAGPIE on the right who discussed every diseased ridden family member within a 1,000 mile radius! If unromantic had a face …. well …. she would be a star.
Second bump was that our drinks never arrived. Tragic! After the THIRD request, they made a disappointing appearance. Seriously, for $16.00 my hand shouldn’t be bigger than the glass!
At this point, the napkin was looking succulent. Finally, the soup and salad arrived. The jury is still out if they were actually good or we were starving.
I decided to use the ladies room since I already consumed two goblets of water, along with my spit of a cocktail while waiting for the entree. The bathroom was very pretty…yea for the bathroom! There were two private stalls with sink in the center area. I came out to be face to face with a man washing his hands. What?!
I broke the ice with a “Are we sharing this space?” He responded in a very heavy Russian accent that he was just washing his hands. I swear even “I love you” sounds harsh in that accent. He tossed me a washcloth and left. WTF just happened?
My sesame encrusted tuna was looking sexy on the plate. That lasted about two seconds. The first bite wasn’t even room temperature and the center was FROZEN. Mind you we could have gone out to the ocean ourselves to catch the damn tuna for as long as we waited!
The hostess/manager came over at my husband’s request, stuck her finger in my tuna and said “Sir, it is cold not frozen!” Oh, no she didn’t!
That was the last straw. We paid for my husbands partially eaten entree and left. We did tip the waitress since it wasn’t her fault her boss was an ass.
We came home had a bowl of ice-cream and called it a night. Life was good again.
Yelp was on fire with complaints today, including mine. Apparently this Inn is under new management and yes, we are using that term very lightly.
Take 2 included a delicious dinner prepared with lots of love by yours truly. Mangia’!
Even the best of intentions have bumps along the way. Sometimes it’s best to just breathe deep and Enjoy the Ride!
Valentine’s Day has to be the most dissed holiday on the calendar!
The complaints of overpriced dinners are endless. The push or maybe shove from Hallmark to dazzle your lover with an expensive piece of paper have people bitching up a storm; and suddenly roses are the most hideous flowers, beating out a damn dandelion! Oh, haters gonna hate.
Do you really need to hire the writers at Hallmark to express how you feel? Paper, pens and personalization are priceless.
How about takeout, Netflix and daisies? If Love is already in the air this is all you need.
It doesn’t have to be difficult, just tweak your approach. Love should be spontaneous, simple and special.
Love also comes in all shapes and sizes. Some of my Fellow Bloggers Susannah & Susie shared wonderful examples of how simple gestures of kindness can keep the love going long after the 14th of February. Lovers gonna Love!
The world certainly has enough hate going on without throwing Cupid under the bus today. So get your creative juices flowing and do something to make someone else smile today. I would be beaming if someone else cleaned the bathroom, but that’s me.
My daughter is smiling at college with her Panera gift card. My son is shocked by his extra gas money. The hubby is beaming with the site of a little chocolate cake with his morning joe and Peanut and Landon are on top of the world with their new toys. Knowing that these thoughtful gestures made the ones I love happy is all I need. (But if someone wants to clean the bathroom that would be great too)
Today isn’t just Valentine’s Day for me, it’s my Anniversary … which makes it extra special for us. Love squared! We will be heading out to enjoy an overpriced dinner this evening, but more importantly each others company. Time to ourselves is priceless these days.
All you need is Love to Enjoy the Ride …. It’s Easy!
I wanted to write this while watching the Grammy’s on Sunday night, but when it started to sound more like the script for Scarface II than an essay on WordPress I stopped. Back away from he keyboard.
Some of the things crossing my mind during the show were: Please feel free to read these with or without the numerous F-Bombs that were going down!
What is this?
What are we watching?
What was that?
Why are you famous?
Then, just when I thought the universe was playing some evil game of Talentless People Rock the earth put itself back on its axis and ANNIE LENNOX took the damn stage and hold on to your hats PERFORMED. Something no one else knew how to do.
That’s right, she belted out I Put A Spell On You with such passion I was speechless or spellbound. Even the cameramen were under her spell, considering they never panned into the audience for a reaction. Nothing to see except some wide eyes and open jaws anyway … but that’s none of my business.
No props for Annie. No hot men to divert our attention. No choirs. No dancers. No chucking spreads. Sorry Madonna, you know I love you, but if you still have to chuck a spread for attention in your 50’s …. just saying.
Annie just walked onto the stage with a voice, passion, and the desire to bring down the house. Check Please!
At that moment, it was clear how lucky I was to have grown up in an era where artists, yes Kanye ARTISTS, used their natural born talent to create music, music which is still going strong today I might add. No autotune in my era!
Most of the show was actually awful and I swear it has nothing to do with my age because I really do enjoy Pop music with the catchy tunes and what not, but for god sakes when you put it up against the real deal they are so dull. Do it with passion or don’t do it at all!
I can only hope that Annie put a spell on these young performers and they will start to realize that PASSION is what’s missing from their act, not dancing marshmallows with gold sequins and fireworks! I just can’t.
Listen to this tune and Enjoy the Ride!
I’ve done several studies over the years, not that they find their way to a medical journal or get me a Nobel prize nomination, but I track certain things that raise an eyebrow because I feel like it. Interesting indeed I know.
My first study started several years ago when I read that the weakest part of a person born under the sign of Pisces, like me, is their feet. Why is that Lisa? Well, because the symbol for a Pisces is two fish and as we all know fish do not have feet. If you did not know that, please move along.
Since I just happen to work for a Podiatrist I started to take note on how many patients are born under the sign of Pisces. The answer is … a lot. I won’t bore you with graphs and charts because I don’t like being bored and they don’t exist.
Another study I’ve been working on is calculating the number of people who have Diabetes and Hypertension, again the answer is … a lot. Notice I keep my data very simple.
My latest investigation of sorts pertains to my two little love bugs Peanut and Landon. It never occurred to me until we got Landon, that Peanut is either gay, highly metrosexual or something else. As if I have all the time in the world.
These two are the Felix and Oscar of the canine world. Peanut always the serious rule follower and Landon, well he is just Landon.
DATA COMPILED TO DATE:
Peanut, when the slightest bit of dirt is on his paws, he walks directly into the shower stall and demands we cleanse the filth while Landon is under the impression that dirt builds character.
Peanut will then stand on a floor towel like cement until I get the blow dryer out to properly dry his feet and Landon is already out the door running in circles at 90 mph for a more natural approach.
My little Pee Wee also has a serious sense of fashion. Call me crazy, but it is true. This little guy loves to look dapper. While he enjoys sporting an occasional bow tie with his collar, his signature look is the turned-up collar of his coat. He hides behind the chair if I choose a less fashionable piece from his wardrobe.
As for Landon, he wears a coat out of necessity since he is the size of a snowflake and would most likely become popsicle if he weren’t wearing something to keep him warm, he opts for whatever we put on him.
Where do we even begin? Peanut waits patiently then walks quietly into the room to approach his bowl while Landon repeatedly checks on the status of his order and resembles a Mexican jumping bean until I put the bowl down.
Peanut is very selective in this department. Oh, he isn’t going to sniff any ole ass no sirree, they must be the right size, shape and color. Peanut has very high standards in this department.
Meanwhile, Landon is all over the first piece of fur that crosses his path. No need for names or numbers, if there is tail … he is all about that ass.
Dear Lord …
It occurred to me during the proofreading portion of this post, that Peanut is not gay or metrosexual, he has taken on the characteristics of MY HUSBAND. I feel another study coming on …
Do you realize what that means? I am Landon! A low maintenance social butterfly, who has been known to jump for food. I’m dying right now!
Life certainly is a trip … Enjoy the Ride!
Over the weekend, we took a trip to The Philadelphia Auto Show … why? Well, because sometimes you do things in the name of love. There is a song all about it.
I knew my husband really wanted to go so I made the plans. Feel free to let out a big old awe!
I presented the plans to my husband, whom I thought would be over the moon, however that was not the case. No balloons or confetti to be found!
This is what happened next:
Me: I thought you wanted to go to the car show?
Husband: Yea, I do.
Me: So why do you look as if I just asked you to split an atom?
Husband: Because I can’t believe you want to go.
Me: Well, I really don’t want to go but I’m always dragging you places, so I thought why not.
Husband: Are you going to have “the face”?
Me: What face?
Husband: The Williamsburg Virginia face?
Me: Hahahahaha! You remember a face from 24 years ago, but no recollection if our son is currently in the house?
Husband: Well that face was memorable.
Me: Silence. Can’t argue that truth bomb!
I roamed the streets of Williamsburg VA., dreaming of all the other things I could be doing while the husband looked at EVERY SINGLE artifact in awe. Omg! The flashback is too much!
Don’t even get me started on the women making candles …. I can’t!
So, what does a good wife do? She promises not to have the Williamsburg face, but will not guarantee a lesser state of boredom face. Win win.
We went. We looked. We left. Oh and we overpaid for a soft pretzel that should have been made of gold dough!
On the way home I couldn’t wait to ask the million dollar question:
Me: How was my face?
Me: Come on I thought I did really well.
Husband: Yea, I guess it wasn’t too bad.
Me: “Wasn’t too bad!” I thought I held it in pretty well.
Husband: Yea, you did better than Virginia.
Me: In my defense I don’t care about new cars. In fact, the smell makes me sick. I just care that my car starts and gets me to my destination. Although I did like the speedometer on that Mini Cooper and the red seats in the Jaguar were cool, but I was much more interested in the people.
Husband: In that case you were very happy.
Me: Did you see the empty Gatorade bottle in the Mercedes?
Me: Did you see that guy with the gauges in his earlobes down to his shoulders.
Me: How about the pack of Newports in the Lexus?
Me: Umm … the guy with the tear drop tattoos on his face taking selfies in the Hummer?
Me: Were we at the same show?
Husband: Apparently not.
It doesn’t matter where we were or what we were doing that day, we still had a great time just being together … Enjoying the Ride!
Imagine receiving a call from a potential employer, who decided to conduct an impromptu phone interview right in the middle of a summer day when your two overzealous boys are home. Are you sweating?
Well, this is exactly what happened to my sister. She was on the phone putting her best professional voice forward, while waving her hands; talking through her teeth and giving an evil eye to her two laughing boys, whom she decided to keep after this day. They have no idea how lucky they are … really.
Mothers of boys know that the laughter only escalates when her face begins turning all sorts of colors and she appears on the verge of exploding. In their eyes this is the best thing since double stuffed Oreos.
While she found herself trapped between motherhood, corporate America and a full-blown circus right in her own living room, she slithered up the steps to the sanctuary of her bedroom, shut the door and continued the interview. Just when you think you’re safe…
Suddenly she heard some sort of commotion outside, which wasn’t too unusual since she lived on a main road, but this noise just didn’t seem normal. At times like this you just want to smother your inner curious cat.
While still on the damn phone she looked out the window only to see her two boys, one in his boxer shorts, holding a sign that read:
Honk If You Like Boobies
Unfortunately for her the neighbors really, really liked boobies!
Express yourself. Never be afraid to find the humor in life and always Enjoy the Ride!
Yes, she got the job!
Todays Daily Post Pens and Pencils asks the following:
When was the last time you wrote something substantive — a letter, a story, a journal entry, etc. — by hand? Could you ever imagine returning to a pre-keyboard era?
Just this week I wrote a note of well wishes to a sick friend and good luck wishes to friends who are starting a new chapter in their lives. I would consider both of these notes substantive, because they had the personal touch of the written word …. my words.
As a matter of fact, I can’t return from the pre-keyboard era because I never really left. I love giving and receiving a written note. I don’t care if it’s a simple “Pick up milk” on a post-it or a loving reminder inside a card that someone out there in the world is thinking of me on a special occasion. Handwriting Rocks!
Let me toot my handwriting horn now. My handwriting truly rocks because I went to Catholic school where penmanship was far more important than anything else on the planet. You haven’t lived until you completed an entire copybook of the handwritten alphabet!
My children, ages 20 and 21, will never ever master this craft. There are chickens in barnyards across America with better writing skills! Although my daughter had a brief stint with penmanship, my son had less.
He has voiced his dislike for my hand written notes claiming he struggles to read cursive, while insisting I print. I refuse to resort to wall drawings on his behalf!
At work I still have the pleasure of using a sharpened wood pencil, along with a date book that has real paper pages. Don’t faint.
I use these old school tools to schedule the doctor’s surgeries and I love it! Sharpened pencils make me smile, erasers … well, they make me smile even wider. Trust me, when you’re dealing with the public erasers are a dream come true.
Honestly though the pen and pencil people of the world have to have some empathy for this keyboard era. What are they going to do save a text message from their lovers on their phones? Ugh … that is just depressing.
I guess if they don’t know any different they’re really not missing anything. Ok, now that’s even more depressing.
I am grateful to have the skills to write a note; the ability to appreciate a written note; and the sense to frame a note written by my husband on our first anniversary. Husband and writing are rarely used in the same sentence.
This little beauty has acted as a reminder over the past 24 years on more than one occasion and I cherish its existence. It has also acted as a life saving tool more than once as well … just saying.
Doing things “by hand” isn’t as dirty as it sounds. So take a moment today to write a note and as always … Enjoy the Ride!
For centuries women have had to endure inappropriate Neanderthal comments from the opposite sex … a/k/a men.
Simmer down guys there is no reason to get the torches ready. I’m not talking about ALL men here, just those creatures who sadly try their best to give you all a bad name. True fact!
Recently there has been a stir about street harassment from some very outspoken young women. Oh how I wish I was one of them back in the 80’s.
When I worked in Center City Philadelphia, as a young lamb just entering the slaughter known as the working world, I experienced a group of Neanderthals. Young, naïve and right to the wolves.
It was a beautiful spring day waaaaaaay back in 1989 when I left the confines of my office for that hour of peace called lunch. I remember this like it was yesterday because of the outfit I was wearing.
I recently purchased a coral colored straight skirt with a thin gold chain belt; a cream-colored blouse and chunky gold necklace. It was new, sophisticated and never worn again after it debuted that beautiful spring day.
Never is my wildest imagination did I think this outfit would cause such a stir among the construction workers, but you just never know what will provoke a crew of Neanderthals. Do not feed the animals!
Me: Sitting in the courtyard just enjoying the beauty of the day.
Construction workers: “Hey Creamsicle”
Me: Oblivious just chillin in the sun.
Construction workers: “Creamsicle! How bout a lick?”
Me: Curious, but still oblivious to what or who they were talking to.
Construction workers: “I love that creamy middle Creamsicle”
Me: Then the lightbulb F I N A L L Y went off and I realized … I am Creamsicle!
Have you ever seen a creamsicle run? Well, you missed that boat folks.
I couldn’t get back to my office fast enough, with a slew of emotions in tow. Is it possible feel ashamed, embarrassed, confused, pissed-off and somewhat flattered all at the same time? Yes, in fact it is thank you very much.
Having it happen to me is one thing, but hearing my cub tell me about the “old creep” who was hitting on her … Oh, this is a game changer. Suddenly putting a hit out on someone seems completely reasonable.
She innocently helped a Neanderthal to his car with his purchases. Why? Because he had a walker and was struggling. My little cub was just being kind.
As she is loading his car he said: “Thanks for your help, but it would be better if you were wearing a bikini.”
My daughter, who was still in shock when she returned home, couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that this crippled man; who was old like her father, could say something “sooooo gross.” Why is the sky blue?
This is when I filled her in on the fact that it doesn’t matter if a man is old, young, crippled or on his fucking death-bed. They will continue to make inappropriate remarks to women … drum roll please … Until The Coffin Lid Closes!
Speak up and …. Enjoy the RIde!
New year new attitude … right? Lord knows I’m doing my best to get my Buddha groove in motion, but it’s not as easy as it sounds. Correction: It would be very easy if other people weren’t on the planet.
I was grooving like no ones business while I was home enjoying days 1 through 4 of this fabulous new year, but going back to work on the 5th made things slightly more challenging. Breathe …. just breathe is my new go to for sanity.
You see this glorious change in attitude comes on the heels of me taking some MUCH needed time off over the holidays to refill my happiness tank. People, especially those in my workplace, have been siphoning the happy out of me for months. I was running on fumes at the most joyous time of the year!
My attitude leading up to my 2 weeks of freedom consisted of being too old, too tired and way too sober for the shit that I was enduring for a paycheck. It’s safe to say FIRE was coming from my heels as I headed to my car on December 18th!
As soon as I got home I put my angry eyes away, shoved the last gram of fucks I had to give down the garbage disposal and enjoyed my family, friends and fur babies over 14 days. All good things must come to an end and this is no different, but I was ready.
Monday was the first day back to my normal routine, but I prepared myself for whatever negativity came my way. I filled my tank with premium happiness; my zen shield was running on full power; and I focused all my energy on building a new attitude. Those first 10 minutes across the threshold were blissful, absolutely blissful.
As I quietly made it through the day I focused on accepting the Oscar for best actress in a dramatic series. The Oscar goes to Lisa for her role in “The Employee Who No Longer Gives A Fuck.” The red carpet, paparazzi and hobnobbing were all crystal clear as the clock clicked away throughout the day.
That evening I attended a meditation class. Another step in a positive direction. I had no idea what to expect considering my ADHD squirrel attention span kicks in when I’m forced to think about nothing. Is that even possible?
Please note my dear friend joined me for this venture. Our friends at the gym refer to us as Lucy & Ethel, which you must keep in mind.
I went in without expectations, so I was pleasantly surprised by the peace that filled me the second I entered the room. The lighting, warmth and company were collectively welcoming me into the space. Lucy and I were both in need of this peace after our day and we settled right into mood.
Ahhhhh … there we were getting our much-needed peace on when suddenly there was a knock at the door. The door locked at 8 sharp according to the website, however the instructor let this
bull man through the door. He was the poster child for the term “Bull in a china closet.”
Peace scooted out as soon as the bull arrived walking head-on into the chimes, which sounded like a marching band. This was the start of the snickering between Lucy & Ethel. The bull then “settled” in to the class with the grace of an elephant settling into a Smart Car. Comical was an understatement.
This incident, followed by some deep diaphragm breathing, was not good timing for Lucy, Ethel and their immature sense of humor. Just hearing the instructor say “it’s ok to laugh, these sounds are silly” made it that much harder to control the snickering.
After what seemed like the longest 45 minutes of my life, I decided mediation was something I need to explore further … with or without the bull.
Enjoy the Ride … let your inner peace ride shotgun!