Goddam that we are here again, back in our good spot, the better spot when it's everything and it's more than even our best friendship and you say there is no one else, and I give us any day and night we want-not just Mondays- and soon I have to count down the days to another "see you soon" that will result in tears-mine- and maybe yours, but you hate to see or hear me cry, probably hate if you show the same so you will do that stare, clench the jaw, and with all of your strength and your mighty arms show me we will be fine, or at least we will pretend that I will try to be fine and I will miss you miss you miss you because goddam it, four and a half years is a long time and we never thought we'd be here still, again and again and all those countless hours and soon I will wait for the countdown that you come back home.
"you said it was dangerous after Sunday
and I knew you loved me"
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Friday, December 21, 2012
december
My last post was July 16th. Today is December 21st. And while the end of the world did not happen today (unless this is all a dream), five months have gone by and I really don't even know why I haven't written.
12 days after the last post, I met a man, J. I feel he needs recognition. I mean, my blog IS called Lisa, Love and Life, and I feel the love part hasn't been written about enough. Slow down, people. You know that by love, I usually mean the hot sex I have....uh huuuh. Ok, I laugh as I say that, but more so only because I wrote it. Back to J.....the meeting was, well, movie-esque, and here was a man, that really was my equivalent in the flirt department. Dayum. Chemistry. But more than that, this guy made me laugh. Like, really laugh. Like, everything we said to one another was funny, and it wasn't the Heineken talking. When you're hot and funny, well, dayum again. And in the male department, I have only been around few men like this. Ones that make you laugh, and, well, sparkle. And on July 28th, I really needed that. Here he was, with his adorable two friends, on a night I almost didn't even go out. He will be written about in greater detail one day. The story is just too much for this blog post tonight but it will make a great chapter in the book. Oh yes, the infamous book that has yet to see fruition. But when a story, well, a reality, happens like J, it cannot go without mention. I think I have worried him about this book, when he knows I am serious his name and events of that night will be included in my future work of art. Oh but we laugh about it, and actually still do. Five months later.
I have said to a few close friends recently, that is hard for me to believe when I am happy. Even if happiness comes in fleeting hours or lasts over just a day, or a night with this J fellow, a sense of forboding sometimes hovers around it and screams, "Lisa! How can you have happiness at a time like this?" At a time like what, I scream back, silently, of course, for I am luckily no where near crazy town (yet). But really, why can't I be happy, or better, why can't I be happy with small happiness?
Sometimes I catch myself remembering the days my babies were actual babies. I see that girl in the photos, 4, 5, 6 years ago, and sometimes wonder why I don't see that same smile much anymore. Yeah, shit has happened. Good God we know it has happened. My quest for love continues of course. But I have so much to be happy about even if the big everlasting committment or love hasn't happened yet. I have gone back to university, and with the first semester done, I really am proud to brag about my grades. Two kids and university. With my kids shouting out that I am a student like them.
It won't be with J, yes, I know this, sad but true, and the big everlasting committment or love might not happen or find me for quite some time. But I have men in my life as companions and friends, and sometimes the unlikely (ah, sweet young Tyler) become the very good friends that were never expected.
So if any of you were wondering where I have been, I am here. Still smiling as much as possible and trying to stay in the happiness moments. I am not one for many cliches, or mantras to help me move forward. To be honest, I'm kinda sick of those, haha. I read less of what people are saying out there, unless of course it makes me laugh a little more, and just try to focus on what I have versus what I don't have.
We're entering a new year. If anyone had warned me of what 2012 would bring or how fast it would go, I would have said, "nonsense". But here I am, writing about that nonsense now.
12 days after the last post, I met a man, J. I feel he needs recognition. I mean, my blog IS called Lisa, Love and Life, and I feel the love part hasn't been written about enough. Slow down, people. You know that by love, I usually mean the hot sex I have....uh huuuh. Ok, I laugh as I say that, but more so only because I wrote it. Back to J.....the meeting was, well, movie-esque, and here was a man, that really was my equivalent in the flirt department. Dayum. Chemistry. But more than that, this guy made me laugh. Like, really laugh. Like, everything we said to one another was funny, and it wasn't the Heineken talking. When you're hot and funny, well, dayum again. And in the male department, I have only been around few men like this. Ones that make you laugh, and, well, sparkle. And on July 28th, I really needed that. Here he was, with his adorable two friends, on a night I almost didn't even go out. He will be written about in greater detail one day. The story is just too much for this blog post tonight but it will make a great chapter in the book. Oh yes, the infamous book that has yet to see fruition. But when a story, well, a reality, happens like J, it cannot go without mention. I think I have worried him about this book, when he knows I am serious his name and events of that night will be included in my future work of art. Oh but we laugh about it, and actually still do. Five months later.
I have said to a few close friends recently, that is hard for me to believe when I am happy. Even if happiness comes in fleeting hours or lasts over just a day, or a night with this J fellow, a sense of forboding sometimes hovers around it and screams, "Lisa! How can you have happiness at a time like this?" At a time like what, I scream back, silently, of course, for I am luckily no where near crazy town (yet). But really, why can't I be happy, or better, why can't I be happy with small happiness?
Sometimes I catch myself remembering the days my babies were actual babies. I see that girl in the photos, 4, 5, 6 years ago, and sometimes wonder why I don't see that same smile much anymore. Yeah, shit has happened. Good God we know it has happened. My quest for love continues of course. But I have so much to be happy about even if the big everlasting committment or love hasn't happened yet. I have gone back to university, and with the first semester done, I really am proud to brag about my grades. Two kids and university. With my kids shouting out that I am a student like them.
It won't be with J, yes, I know this, sad but true, and the big everlasting committment or love might not happen or find me for quite some time. But I have men in my life as companions and friends, and sometimes the unlikely (ah, sweet young Tyler) become the very good friends that were never expected.
So if any of you were wondering where I have been, I am here. Still smiling as much as possible and trying to stay in the happiness moments. I am not one for many cliches, or mantras to help me move forward. To be honest, I'm kinda sick of those, haha. I read less of what people are saying out there, unless of course it makes me laugh a little more, and just try to focus on what I have versus what I don't have.
We're entering a new year. If anyone had warned me of what 2012 would bring or how fast it would go, I would have said, "nonsense". But here I am, writing about that nonsense now.
Friday, November 16, 2012
always undone
It has been months since I have written. In the space between then and now, there has been love, or I guess, lust, on a few levels. I feel I should speak of love if that's a word in my blog name, even if I haven't had the heart to cheer up the blog space and turn the black to a heart-felt, love-lust red. Black and grey can stay for now. Ok, let's get to it.
I met J on July 28th. Why I remember this is because that day and night will be forever memorable. And I really can't share ALL the details, for that book I talk about has to really be broken into (and you cats know if you'll be in it..oh, you know!)
I met J on July 28th. Why I remember this is because that day and night will be forever memorable. And I really can't share ALL the details, for that book I talk about has to really be broken into (and you cats know if you'll be in it..oh, you know!)
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Ryan and Megan
I have always believed we are meant to meet the people we meet. When you are least expecting someone to change you, or your way of seeing things, or that someone just shows you true beauty, it is all part of God's, or Fate's plan. It is your path and your destination at that moment. Perhaps you will never see or talk to that person again, but that person will settle into the creases of your mind and stay forever.
I met such a person last Saturday night. It wasn't lost on me that the meeting occurred at a bar, but I didn't care. It was as though a magnetic force pulled us together and forced a late of evening of laughter and flirting to the highest degree where feeling like we had known each other for years was an understatement. Did I mention I have not laughed like this for over a year and a half? We slightly ignored our sets of friends, found ourselves sharing phone numbers and phone pins, and knew the night would not end there.
I met such a person last Saturday night. It wasn't lost on me that the meeting occurred at a bar, but I didn't care. It was as though a magnetic force pulled us together and forced a late of evening of laughter and flirting to the highest degree where feeling like we had known each other for years was an understatement. Did I mention I have not laughed like this for over a year and a half? We slightly ignored our sets of friends, found ourselves sharing phone numbers and phone pins, and knew the night would not end there.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Party of Three
I miss my father on many levels. I miss him on occasions, like my daughter's upcoming birthday, but mostly I miss him for the daily bits- the times when I'd get his advice even if I didn't ask for it, hear his reaction to things, and hear him sum up his opinions like only my father could do; like the only male in the family could do. Above all, I miss my old family dynamic. It's true what I read, when a key person in the family dies, it changes the whole configuration of your family.
There are simply just the three of us now. I have never had a big family and the extended family we do have.....well, half my dad's side are faraway, and older with no children and the other half chose to cut us out the day my father died. Pettiness, grave unfortunate pettiness, that turned grief to spite and we were to blame for everything. My mom's family side, though quite extensive, was never really a big part of our lives, minus the weddings and reunions. I don't have cousins I reach out to, or aunts and uncles I feel close to. It's kind of sad. And now, without my father, there is simply just the three of us: my mom, my sister and I. And I miss our dynamic of being a foursome. I miss my other parent.
When you're the youngest, it is also a different dynamic in the family. I love reading about roles in a family and how birth order dictates so much, though we are all unconscious of it. The older sibling develops and is treated one way, as is the middle child and the youngest.
It's been hard during the times that I don't feel my opinion in our new family dynamic counts, or if I'm not heard. I feel bad for my mom if and when she feels she has to take sides, which of course, she does not. Or if she does, maybe it's that she takes both sides, even if both daughters are unaware. I get it, it keeps the peace.
I feel that I try to make the wrongs right, and quickly when the wrongs happen. Recently, I realized I always am the one to make it right first. I wave the white flag, say the apology and reach out first, even when I'm not sure an apology is needed. It's what I do. I don't particularly enjoy the strife of a family disagreement. I don't condone silent treatments.
But this time I won't be the white flag waver. This time I have nothing to say and to me, it's too late for anyone else to say anything now. I'm tired of the moment passing with others, if they choose to not address the issue at hand, comments made that they didn't like or agree with, then why should I worry how they react or handle things much after the fact? It is something I need to work on and I'm a slow learner, clearly. Years of not resolving things quicker and pandering to others to make them feel better and to make their fight go away. No thanks. Aren't we adults? Is it always up to the youngest? Is it a Pisces thing???!!!
Ah Dad, what would you say?
There are simply just the three of us now. I have never had a big family and the extended family we do have.....well, half my dad's side are faraway, and older with no children and the other half chose to cut us out the day my father died. Pettiness, grave unfortunate pettiness, that turned grief to spite and we were to blame for everything. My mom's family side, though quite extensive, was never really a big part of our lives, minus the weddings and reunions. I don't have cousins I reach out to, or aunts and uncles I feel close to. It's kind of sad. And now, without my father, there is simply just the three of us: my mom, my sister and I. And I miss our dynamic of being a foursome. I miss my other parent.
When you're the youngest, it is also a different dynamic in the family. I love reading about roles in a family and how birth order dictates so much, though we are all unconscious of it. The older sibling develops and is treated one way, as is the middle child and the youngest.
It's been hard during the times that I don't feel my opinion in our new family dynamic counts, or if I'm not heard. I feel bad for my mom if and when she feels she has to take sides, which of course, she does not. Or if she does, maybe it's that she takes both sides, even if both daughters are unaware. I get it, it keeps the peace.
I feel that I try to make the wrongs right, and quickly when the wrongs happen. Recently, I realized I always am the one to make it right first. I wave the white flag, say the apology and reach out first, even when I'm not sure an apology is needed. It's what I do. I don't particularly enjoy the strife of a family disagreement. I don't condone silent treatments.
But this time I won't be the white flag waver. This time I have nothing to say and to me, it's too late for anyone else to say anything now. I'm tired of the moment passing with others, if they choose to not address the issue at hand, comments made that they didn't like or agree with, then why should I worry how they react or handle things much after the fact? It is something I need to work on and I'm a slow learner, clearly. Years of not resolving things quicker and pandering to others to make them feel better and to make their fight go away. No thanks. Aren't we adults? Is it always up to the youngest? Is it a Pisces thing???!!!
Ah Dad, what would you say?
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Dad
He followed behind when I first rode my bike
Dropped shiny new coins on each long hike
Never missed a recital, a speech or a play
Taught me what was important at the end of a day.
Childhood flew, it was easy I thought
But now as a parent, I know it was not
And when I became that rebellious teen
I told him I hated him, I was only 15.
He sat a boy down, said, "It's time that you go"
"You're not to see her, if you do, I will know"
That led down a path of secrets and lies
I'm sure that he saw it, lying deep in my eyes.
Our dinners alone at the end of a week
Where I hated university and barely could sleep
Would make me feel special, would always be treasured
It was simply just dinner, amazing conversations would vary.
B.C. changed my life, even for a short time
When it didn't work out, he was the first in line
Buying the ticket that would return me back safely
No questions asked, a father protecting his baby.
I was slowly maturing, he knew it too
He got me that first big job with money that grew
The job led me out of the house and into my own
I was my own person, now fully grown.
Walked me down the aisle that sunny day in June
Our song was My Girl, the band played in the room
When I finally had my own sweet daughter, then son
His eyes teared up with immense pride, joy and love.
He gave me the best advice of my life
When the marriage fell apart and I was no longer a wife
His notes, cards and letters I still have to this day
When so many of my dreams were taken away.
A few years went by, and no one could have guessed
He would hear the word, "cancer", with one little test
He fought a bigger battle, braver than anyone I know
Never complaining, trying to remain in control.
And another day in June, this time for death
Would stop all his pain and bring eternal rest
We spoke at his funeral, and on his behalf
Evoking tears, but also the laughs.
Of a man that died with heart, dignity and grace
The disease took his voice, but never his face
His eyes I will remember when he was trying to speak
Using no words, was a difficult feat.
Dad, what I told you, will always ring true
You were the best dad, I am grateful for you
May you rest in peace, I still wish you were here
But I know you are watching, I know that you're near.
I love you.
Dropped shiny new coins on each long hike
Never missed a recital, a speech or a play
Taught me what was important at the end of a day.
Childhood flew, it was easy I thought
But now as a parent, I know it was not
And when I became that rebellious teen
I told him I hated him, I was only 15.
He sat a boy down, said, "It's time that you go"
"You're not to see her, if you do, I will know"
That led down a path of secrets and lies
I'm sure that he saw it, lying deep in my eyes.
Our dinners alone at the end of a week
Where I hated university and barely could sleep
Would make me feel special, would always be treasured
It was simply just dinner, amazing conversations would vary.
B.C. changed my life, even for a short time
When it didn't work out, he was the first in line
Buying the ticket that would return me back safely
No questions asked, a father protecting his baby.
I was slowly maturing, he knew it too
He got me that first big job with money that grew
The job led me out of the house and into my own
I was my own person, now fully grown.
Walked me down the aisle that sunny day in June
Our song was My Girl, the band played in the room
When I finally had my own sweet daughter, then son
His eyes teared up with immense pride, joy and love.
He gave me the best advice of my life
When the marriage fell apart and I was no longer a wife
His notes, cards and letters I still have to this day
When so many of my dreams were taken away.
A few years went by, and no one could have guessed
He would hear the word, "cancer", with one little test
He fought a bigger battle, braver than anyone I know
Never complaining, trying to remain in control.
And another day in June, this time for death
Would stop all his pain and bring eternal rest
We spoke at his funeral, and on his behalf
Evoking tears, but also the laughs.
Of a man that died with heart, dignity and grace
The disease took his voice, but never his face
His eyes I will remember when he was trying to speak
Using no words, was a difficult feat.
Dad, what I told you, will always ring true
You were the best dad, I am grateful for you
May you rest in peace, I still wish you were here
But I know you are watching, I know that you're near.
I love you.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Observations In Bed
I have been writhing in pain, in bed, for pretty much the whole of my Sunday. The pain didn't start out this intense but it's now in a debilitating state so what is there else to do but let it happen, hope it ends soon and not think about all the other things I could be doing. When more serious thoughts popped into my mind, I just decided to get off the internet of my small BlackBerry, and get up (gasp) and blog on my laptop..ginger tea beside me.
It has been interesting to see that yet again, there is only one person that checks in on Sundays. I have been ignored today, for sure, by some people, and other friends, well, let's just say you know when they're with their man, waiting for their man, or can't talk on a weekend because of their man. And lately, plans get cancelled all the time, or worse, plans don't even get made, this is aside from phone silent Sundays. I've resigned myself to stop being that great girlfriend trying to make the fun plans and get some of my friends out. If they can't see that they rarely make the effort, I have no wish to make it for them. Time will tell how serious these friendships remain.
So back to my Sunday... The Ex picked up the children this morning. I was welcoming 9am like I do most Sunday mornings, when the Saturday just before was not a stellar one. I also welcomed the fact and patted myself on the back that we all got pretty good sleeps and that the kids went to bed at exactly 8pm, even on a Saturday night. We were all tired. And though their weariness was from a lot of exercise, mine was more induced from the day of tough parenting and going against my better wishes and drinking a little too much from the wine bottle. I think boredom, exhaustion and lonliness will provoke that. And maybe the wine has something to do with the immense pain in my chest. Weird spot, has been happening a lot lately actually. When you try and self-diagnose on the internet you have to take it all with a grain, or tablespoon, of salt. My stomach issues are not new nor uncommon. Sometimes it's a mind over matter, find some inner peace solution, and other times it's digestive, digestive, um, digestive, and oh yeah, stress and anxiety. So the usual lower abdomen strife has decided to switch it up and wreak havoc in the middle part of my upper chest, right under my breasts. This might be under the sternum, alas, I forget the actual name of this part of my body radiating so much pain. What does the internet say? Aaah, so much. And too much to post here. But let's just clarify that I don't start looking for and reading over other "viewers" questions and comments, those ready to spill everything about every little symptom or annoyance since, oh, age 5, who then beg viewers for answers as to what their pain is.
Oh-hold on while I try to breathe...... Dear God, that one lasted a while. Jokes aside, I even looked up heart attack symptoms. Check that off the list. I won't need an ambulance.
So here are my other observations in bed, or rather, when I was just in bed. Children. Those of us that are parents, those of us that are not. And we will never understand the other points of view, or at least, not entirely. I watched my neighbour yell at all the kids in front of our houses yesterday after he was so good listening to me and my woes about parenting. There was a street party on, or so it appeared, though it was really a 12 year old's birthday party that had taken to playing games in the sun soaked street in our 'hood. My neighbour yelled at everyone to stop playing ball, go to the school, and oh ya, Can't you see the sign that actually says No Ball Playing Permitted? He was livid, angry and um, really mean. Worried about the tulips he just planted. He must have repeated himself three times. Did I mention he is not a parent? Where are the lines? Are people allowed to be that mean to kids? What about all the discipline comments I read or hear about lately?
I am a parent, and of course I notice things that bother me too; parents that have no discipline techniques at all with their children. But I have the parent side in me, that a non-parent doesn't, or is it just empathy when you can see a parent struggling and tell yourself to stop judging or making hasty opinions? Even if they're not struggling, I have had to remind myself, even with friends, that our parenting styles are sometimes very different. I know that when I am struggling, or it is a challenging parenting day, it is hard to see if or when my family is trying to help or if they are saying they ARE helping, when it is rolled in with so many other factors to the situation at hand. It's also hard for me to see that they even try to understand me. I don't feel my mom understands a lot these days, and well, my sister and I arent' talking now because I cancelled our latter-day plans that involved me and my kids yesterday. And yes, I feel judged, far too often. Her take is I'm judging myelf, it isn't her judging me. I think she's exactly right but it still means we aren't talking and I can still be upset from other's exasperation and/or eye rolls. It puts me more on edge, and I admit I can't help that feeling. I have been begging my Ex to get involved, he's the one that really needs to, and have been asking him for months. He's only been on board with any tough parenting for just over a month. I'm so tired, so very tired of doing it all myself that I even I fall off the standing my ground stance with the kids lately. I know it's my job, I know parenting is work, but it's hard when it feels like you vs. your kids. Again, you don't know how hard it is if you're not a parent. Yes, that's what I think. So now I will go back to retreat mode, react to being ignored, simply because I don't want arguments or the explanations from me or them. And happily, I have booked me and the Ex into a 2-night parenting workshop. That really beats arguments and explanations.
So back to my Sunday... The Ex picked up the children this morning. I was welcoming 9am like I do most Sunday mornings, when the Saturday just before was not a stellar one. I also welcomed the fact and patted myself on the back that we all got pretty good sleeps and that the kids went to bed at exactly 8pm, even on a Saturday night. We were all tired. And though their weariness was from a lot of exercise, mine was more induced from the day of tough parenting and going against my better wishes and drinking a little too much from the wine bottle. I think boredom, exhaustion and lonliness will provoke that. And maybe the wine has something to do with the immense pain in my chest. Weird spot, has been happening a lot lately actually. When you try and self-diagnose on the internet you have to take it all with a grain, or tablespoon, of salt. My stomach issues are not new nor uncommon. Sometimes it's a mind over matter, find some inner peace solution, and other times it's digestive, digestive, um, digestive, and oh yeah, stress and anxiety. So the usual lower abdomen strife has decided to switch it up and wreak havoc in the middle part of my upper chest, right under my breasts. This might be under the sternum, alas, I forget the actual name of this part of my body radiating so much pain. What does the internet say? Aaah, so much. And too much to post here. But let's just clarify that I don't start looking for and reading over other "viewers" questions and comments, those ready to spill everything about every little symptom or annoyance since, oh, age 5, who then beg viewers for answers as to what their pain is.
Oh-hold on while I try to breathe...... Dear God, that one lasted a while. Jokes aside, I even looked up heart attack symptoms. Check that off the list. I won't need an ambulance.
So here are my other observations in bed, or rather, when I was just in bed. Children. Those of us that are parents, those of us that are not. And we will never understand the other points of view, or at least, not entirely. I watched my neighbour yell at all the kids in front of our houses yesterday after he was so good listening to me and my woes about parenting. There was a street party on, or so it appeared, though it was really a 12 year old's birthday party that had taken to playing games in the sun soaked street in our 'hood. My neighbour yelled at everyone to stop playing ball, go to the school, and oh ya, Can't you see the sign that actually says No Ball Playing Permitted? He was livid, angry and um, really mean. Worried about the tulips he just planted. He must have repeated himself three times. Did I mention he is not a parent? Where are the lines? Are people allowed to be that mean to kids? What about all the discipline comments I read or hear about lately?
I am a parent, and of course I notice things that bother me too; parents that have no discipline techniques at all with their children. But I have the parent side in me, that a non-parent doesn't, or is it just empathy when you can see a parent struggling and tell yourself to stop judging or making hasty opinions? Even if they're not struggling, I have had to remind myself, even with friends, that our parenting styles are sometimes very different. I know that when I am struggling, or it is a challenging parenting day, it is hard to see if or when my family is trying to help or if they are saying they ARE helping, when it is rolled in with so many other factors to the situation at hand. It's also hard for me to see that they even try to understand me. I don't feel my mom understands a lot these days, and well, my sister and I arent' talking now because I cancelled our latter-day plans that involved me and my kids yesterday. And yes, I feel judged, far too often. Her take is I'm judging myelf, it isn't her judging me. I think she's exactly right but it still means we aren't talking and I can still be upset from other's exasperation and/or eye rolls. It puts me more on edge, and I admit I can't help that feeling. I have been begging my Ex to get involved, he's the one that really needs to, and have been asking him for months. He's only been on board with any tough parenting for just over a month. I'm so tired, so very tired of doing it all myself that I even I fall off the standing my ground stance with the kids lately. I know it's my job, I know parenting is work, but it's hard when it feels like you vs. your kids. Again, you don't know how hard it is if you're not a parent. Yes, that's what I think. So now I will go back to retreat mode, react to being ignored, simply because I don't want arguments or the explanations from me or them. And happily, I have booked me and the Ex into a 2-night parenting workshop. That really beats arguments and explanations.
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