So... this happened

New blog:

lisaisamomnow.blogspot.com

Hello?

Is this thing on?

I'm over here right now

http://elleemcee.tumblr.com/

Mostly because I'm still desperate for the social sharing of The Goog and I need to believe that Tumblr is the answer.

So, let's be friends.

I'm promise to be more brief and thereby less obnoxious.

(That last part is a lie.)

Typical

Scene: Talking on the phone with my mom one weekend morning.


Me: Yeah, I just got woken up by my wine being delivered.

Mom: Oh, most people wake up with coffee, but I guess, with you, it's wine.

Me: I guess?

Mom: Yeah.

Me: Well, the delivery guy was terrified of Rocco. He rushed my signature and didn't even check my ID!

Mom: Aw.

Me: What if I was underage??

Mom: What if you were an FBI agent??

Me: Ri--what, what?

Mom: FBI!

Me: So... Basically, you're saying it's more believable that I'm an FBI agent than that I'm under 21?

Mom: ...Yeah.

Me: ...

Me: Whatever, you're almost 60.

Twilight, part two

Ang, Maris and I just watched Twilight part two.

I'm still not clear whether this was Breaking Dawn or New Moon, but there was definitely no sex in it. Much like my first review of a Twilight movie, it was hilarious.

The movie starts out with Bella in a field with an old lady, who I assumed was her dead grandma. Turns out, it's her old self, in a dream...? Or something? I mean, she IS turning 18 which is SO FUCKING OLD. (So. What's the symbology there?)

Next thing that happens is Jacob running into the scene with his long, gross hair. Instead of hoping for a sex scene, I start praying that this is the movie where he chops off that god-awful mane. (Spoiler: it is.)

Speaking of hair, Bella basically doesn't shower for the entire movie and her hair looks way worse than mine after 3 days of not showering and 24 hours sitting in the rain with no access to an umbrella. Tragic.

There's also a lot of rain in the movie.

Aside from the long man-hair, greasy girl mop, rain and not-so-subtle symbolism, the second Twilight movie is also filled with shirtless men. Or maybe "men," in quotes, since I think they may be 17 and under. Related: how many 17-year-olds do you know who have broad shoulders and six-packs? Not in my high school, kiddos. Not in my high school. Or my adulthood, except for the gays.

Oh, and did I mention they kill off the one black guy in the entire movie? I bet he was half-Jewish too. As two half-Jews, Maris and I are one-whole offended. I think. (There was a decent amount of wine and champagne during this viewing so things get a little hazy...)

What else do you need to know? Edward didn't really make an appearance except for weirdo ghost-like visions in Bella's head, Dakota Fanning looked pretty, Carlisle started developing a British accent, Edward wore a robe that I really think was a dress for Hugh Hefner-esque cross-dressers...

Other random events:

• Edward and Bella say "I love you." About 4 second later, he dumps her. Bye, bitch.

• To illustrate the passing of time, we see Bella sitting in a chair while the camera swirls around her and the months pass by on the screen.

• Bella has crazy screaming dreams and her dad rushes into her room to comfort her every time. Something about her being a grown woman makes me feel weird about this.

• Bella gets all bad-assy after the breakup and jumps on a random motorcycle with a random dude who looks more like a teddy bear than the murderous thug we're supposed to think he is. AND she does this even though Ghost-Edward tells her not to. Bye, bitch.

• We realized that the chick who plays Bella's BFF Jessica is the same girl who appears in Up in the Air. Thanks, IMDB!

• Vampires still run fast.

• JACOB FINALLY CUTS HIS HAIR. I guess turning into a werewolf does that to a guy.

• Speaking of Jacob, he totally parkours up Bella's house to get into her bedroom. Pretty sure he was shirtless.

• Bella goes off the deep end -- literally -- when she hurls herself off a cliff into the murky water below. She pops up, floats around for a while on the surface, then "slams" her head into a rock... I CALL BULLSHIT. Do you know how hard it is to move fast in the water? I don't think you could knock yourself out if you tried. But, no matter, because a shirtless Jacob saves her.

• Bella continues to be depressed, at which point I urge her to invest in some Lexapro. And maybe take a shower.

• Bella keeps acting like she's into Jacob and going to kiss him, but never does. Because she hates abs?

• Bella keeps trying to email Edward's sister with the bad hair (I guess bad hair is a major theme in the movie), but all emails go to that goddamn Mailer Daemon. Send fail, Bella.

• Buuuuut, Alice still shows up at Bella's door because Alice see the future! And she saw Bella throw herself off the cliff! And get knocked unconscious! And die! ...Except that last part didn't happen. Geez, Alice, take a lesson from Sylvia Browne and get your psychic shit together.

• Bella and Alice fly to Italy via Virgin airlines, which Angie says had monitors on the seats and you can message people in other seats, all creepy-like. I hope that's not a lie. because that sounds awesome.

• At the end of the movie, Bella wants to be turned into a vampire, which Edward says he'll do "on one condition." ...... "Marry me." I feel like it would have been fantastic is Bella was like, "Look... you're great... but, I mean... being immortal and committing to marriage is, like, a big thing. And have you seen Jacob's abs?"

Eh, that's basically all I remember.

Overall, I have to say that I enjoyed the first one better -- maybe because I had no idea how bad it was going to be and I was just so damn tickled the entire two hours. This time, I expected ridiculousness and I got it. But the edge goes to part one simply because it had the element of surprise.

I'm planning to watch part 3 sometime in the next, like, year or whatever, so let me know if you want to take part of this mess.

Just don't forget the wine.

Best gif ever?

Basically.

Related: I miss you, Goog Reader. NEVER FORGET.

Terrifying or terrified?

Happy Halloween from the most humiliated little shark on the planet.

Thanks to Aunt Suz for passing along Hanny's old costume.

Gives "spooky" a whole new meaning

What started out like this...

...was planned like this...

...and then turned into this...

I call him: "The Diabolical Redneck." Who needs all their teeth anyway?

Happy Halloween, y'all.

The finished products:

Just...no.

That is what popped up on my TV this morning.

I thought to myself, "Lisa, you have never seen an episode of Jersey Shore. I know your initial reaction is UGH HATE, but maybe give her a chance."

So I did.

And now I hate myself.

But not as much as I hate the word "guidette."

Apartment of death

Tonight, it rained it Chicago and everyone forgot how to drive.

I don't know why. I don't make the rules.

After sitting in traffic for about an hour, I finally got home to my apartment. As I walked up the back stairs, I heard a faint beeping...

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP...BEEP-BEEP-BEEP...

That's not coming from my place, is it? I thought.

Okay, it definitely is.

I threw my key into the lock and pried it open (janky old door), wondering just how long the beeping had been going on and how bat-shit-crazy-insane Rocco probably was after hearing it nonstop.

That's when I realized it was my carbon monoxide detector.

And my place smelled like gasoline.

OH MY GOD WE ARE GOING TO DIE.

In one fluid motion -- that's what it felt like, but I bet I looked more like an epileptic on meth -- I grabbed Rocco by the collar, swiped his leash from the couch and hauled ass outside.

Standing in the rain, I frantically called Dave and told him about how our apartment had turned into a beeping deathtrap. He told me that carbon monoxide doesn't smell and that I needed to call our neighbors to tell them what was going on. I demanded that he come home immediately and marched upstairs with my confused dog. We hug out with our cool neighbors while trying to describe what that smell was. Gasoline? Poisonous gas? GASOLINE? Totally gasoline.

We also brainstormed the source of the problem -- no question there. It was our "handyman." He sets up shop in our basement and makes random shit for our landlord. The latest project has been a pair of doors. Whatever.

Anyway, Tony soon decided I should go downstairs and open the windows while Lindsay decided she would call our landlord and give him a piece of her mind. I did, and also took a time out to put on some sweatpants and grab a few beers because, duh.

By the time Dave came home, our place didn't smell as bad and he decided it was safe to head back down to our floor. Also, he determined that the weird smell was clearly spray paint that our "handyman" had been using on the doors he was building.

So here we are.

The apartment's been aired out, I don't think I'm high and our dinner just arrived. All is right with the world, but just in case we don't wake up tomorrow, it's been nice knowing you.

All the things

My current Facebook status:

Happy Daughter / Mother / Breast Cancer Awareness / Puppy Dog / Wearing-White-After-Labor-Day / Gambling / Palm Tree / Hipster Appreciation / Dyslexia / Tea Party / Pygmy-Goat-Riding-A-Unicycle Day/Week! I love/hate all/some of those things. If you do too, repost, like, comment on, share, print, frame and worship this status.


amirite?


PS - The palm tree mention is throw to my mom.  HI, MOM.

Expert travelers...or something

Dave's been on Long Island for the past 10 days and is almost halfway through his business training for work. (Yeah, it's about as exciting as it sounds.) Meanwhile, I have successfully fed myself and kept this apartment from looking like a home on Hoarders, so things are going QUITE well over here too.

Tomorrow, though, I leave my dear Chicago and venture off to Denver for some work training of my own...whatever that will include. I'll only be there for a few days, but I'll be renting a car and hopefully only getting lost 5 or 6 times. Really, anything under 10 would be rad.

Anyway, this coming weekend, Dave gets a break from training and travels over to Manhattan for some good, ol' city fun. And, apparently, he's very excited about it.

So, my New York friends, keep an eye out for this nerd. Might I suggest you focus on gutters, bar floors and gypsy cabs....?

My drunk grandma...

...Now has her own corner of The Interwebs.

http://www.mydrunkgrandma.com

You're welcome. Or, I'm sorry. I'm not sure which yet.

Renegade

Renegade Craft Fair has its pluses. It's close enough for me to walk to, it takes place during a glorious time in Chicago and it even has some cute things for sale.

But it's also overrun with hipsters, some handmade trash and high price tags, and THAT is super-annoying.

So when I see posts like this (Missed Connections), I can't help but smile.

Of life and legs

Over the last decade or so, I've found that the stages of a gal's life and relationship status can be measured by the state of her legs.

In my experience, there have been 4 leg/life/relationship levels.

Status: Single
Legs: Shaved often enough, but only really before heading out for the evening
Reason: You never know. *wink, wink*

Status: In a relationship
Legs: Shaved to perfection. With shaving cream, even!
Reason: Look how flawless I am. You totally want to marry this.

Status: Married
Legs: Shaved haphazardly in a speedy shower
Reason: I'm late for work and it's not your birthday.

Status: My business-traveling husband is in New York for the rest of September
Legs: I have legs?

It's a new low, y'all.

Open mouth, insert foot, cash paycheck

Well, folks, it looks like my professional purgatory is coming to an end. Here's how things have gone down.

Sam
Sam, the dude with no real personality (read: not cool work) proposed (offered me the job) with a verrrrry expensive ring (excellent salary). I told him I couldn't accept because I was waiting for Barry. Sam didn't care to wait so he moved on. Bye bye, Sam.

Barry
Oh, Barry. Rather than proposing outright, he asked me to start living with him (writing for free for his blog) for one week. I agreed...but the work I had to do was not suited to my strengths. Suffice to say I was disenchanted. So, after all this time, I broke up with him. I think it was the right thing to do.

Miles
Remember when I was all, oh, this bullshit guy? Well, we're totally getting married. He waited for me, there turned out to be a lot of substance there, I like his family (my new coworkers) and it just feels right. And the work? The work looks awesome. We're talking magazine-style publications, kick-ass marketing campaigns, shocking creative support from the top and lots of room for creativity. We're working out some details now, but the wedding should be at the end of this month.

So there you have it. Retirement will be over, I'll have to start wearing pants again and my bank account won't be so shriveled up. (ZAPPOS, I'VE MISSED YOU.)

It's a new step -- hopefully one in the right direction -- and I'm excited to see what will come next.

Someone had a bad day

Over the weekend, I received a text from a random (773) phone number informing me, "This is my new number."

Unsure who "my" referred to, I tried to think which of my friends was not only getting a new number but was also absent-minded enough not to tell me who the heck they are. I came up with nothing. Sooo, I responded.

Done. Won't hear from them again, I thought.

The next morning, I was awoken by my phone going off before 8:00. As I do with all communication attempts before I've rolled out of bed, I ignored it.

Then my phone beeped again. Again, I ignored it.

When I woke up an hour and a half later, I checked my phone and saw this:

Oh, dear. My sweet, dumb, mystery person. Not the best morning for you.

So I responded much more directly this time.

And then all was right with the world.

Alaskan near-death cruise?

Mom and Dad are back from their Alaskan cruise.

Alive.

Thank god.

A sucker for nail color

I rarely get manicures.

Mostly because I opt for basic color rather than this cool shit, and I simply can't justify spending the money (or getting my ass off the couch) to have someone do what I can do in my home...albeit sloppier and slower.

But one thing I do spend money on is nail polish, which is exactly what I just did in anticipation for Fall/Winter 2011.

Behold:

 British Racing Green

Dark, “hunter green” that was the backstage darling when used at this season's shows.

Fash Pack

An edgy and unusual color. Putty meets mushroom. Sounds strange and wrong, but somehow it works, like deep fried Mars bars. 

Pillar Box Red

A good red is like your favorite LBD. It makes you look and feel your best, even when you’re faking it.

Chimney Sweep

Smudgy, sexy, and just a little dirty. A proper charcoal grey with a touch of a metallic finish. Hot.

La Moss

Vampy and full of red wine, just like its inspiration.

ButterLondon.com

Hide yo' kids, hide yo' iPods

J recently had a break-in to her apartment. Thankfully, she wasn't there when it happened, but good lord that's freaky. Someone else. In your home. Taking your stuff. I kind of wanted to move her into my second bedroom for a while, but anyone who knows her knows that the offer would be met with a genuine smile and a "no thanks, you're being insane" eye roll.

Even though I've been locking all the doors I can possibly find ever since I heard this news, I don't think anyone would have an easy time getting into my particular apartment because of my gigantic dog...

As much of a lover as he is, he sounds like he could do some serious damage to your bones if he hears you outside.

Like my own little murdering alarm system.

But I realized something this morning.

If we ever buy a house -- like, with more than one story -- he'd let anyone in, as long as they break into a floor that he is not on.

Burglars above us, on the roof? "No biggie," he'd think.

Thieves below us, in the basement? "They probably belong there."

Roly-poly kleptos stealing all the food from the kitchen (while Roc rests in MY bed upstairs)? "I wonder if they'll drop anything for me..."

FAIL DOG.

(Yet another reason not to buy a single-family place.)

Anyway, stay safe out there, people. Lock your doors, lock your windows and let me know if you ever need to borrow The Roc.