The Life of Liza

It's official

2008-05-19T20:42:00.001-04:00

Where on earth to begin....

2008-05-07T11:56:00.002-04:00

Life is good, life is grand, life is calm and chugging along.

Good Man, aka G, is moving in, a big step for this gal that always seemed to pick the wrong guys. Don't get me wrong: I've learned loads from the relationships I've been in;
how to be a better friend,
how to strum a few chords,
how to chug a beer (this list goes waaaaay back, my friends,)
how to practice patience in virtue and patience in temper,
how to lose my temper when necessary,
how to recognize a better friend than lover,
how to steer clear from boys in bars,
how to truly remain a trustworthy friend and learn to lean on one as well,
and the list could go on with fortunate lessons learned before now.

In this relationship, I have learned:
how it is acceptable and perfect to simply be me and love someone who is simply him. I know we both want only the best for each other in character, habit, career, and personal growth while growing as a team.

A team. I have not felt that in years whilst in a relationship. I am so fortunate to know that this man would pick me first in dodgeball anytime, and in fact give me the role of Captain if I desired.

So that is that, my love life is loving. He wants a small wedding, he says, and we seem to both want a big marriage full of adventures, full of mundane calm as well. We could trek the Great Wall of China and still find joy in washing clay pots and noodle bowls side by side as the sun sets for us and us alone with the promise true of another day together hand in hand.

I promise to write more often, and not only of the mushy-mush of contentment. Updates soon and often on the 60 hour work weeks, gumption, and comitmments to creativity and health that I am making. Hugs to all that cross this blog!

o.dear.god

2008-03-16T19:25:00.001-04:00

why does one of my bestest friends need to ask Good Man upon her second time of meeting, "So, are you gonna ask this girl to marry you or what?!"

akward

akward.

because I left the room.

and giggled.

I Love Him

Ceviche! (aka my new work venue)

2008-03-10T13:23:00.004-04:00

Canopy

2008-03-04T08:34:00.003-05:00

The air was crisper closer to the Gulf. Good Man and I had taken a quick trip to visit my mother in the home she has made out in the country where you can hear the gators call for mates and watch the sand cranes pass close at hand with a bobbing gait.

It was a brief, sweet respite for he and I; his 70 hour work week shaved to only 50 by his choosing, and my new job glittering on the Tuesday horizon. We gassed up the Jetta and headed to the West.

Good Man is a quiet, modest good man when company is new and stories not known, yet he busses my mother on the cheek upon every greeting and shakes her beau's hand heartily upon meeting. Last minute plans were made after several first time introductions were eased and with bellies full of Mama's chili we headed to the lake and the venue with picnic tables under a canopy of cypress trees carved by many hands of hope with lover's names fresh and fallow.

I held his knee under the near full moon with my firm hoping hands and even firmer knowledge that I was a woman blessed with his consistent, patient understanding and unabashed adoration. I sit here now and write and know that I will bring him joy and give him the love he deserves and the commitment I have never thought possible from myself.

That night, while listening to the toads and crickets sing, arms intertwined and eyes tearing I told him that I am his forever, as long as he will have me, I want to wake up with his children in my arms, his love wrapping arms around my waist every morning till death. He told me that he was so weary and sad until he met me, he didn't even know; in his 35 years he has wanted to say "I love you," to his true love- which is me.

nevah knew love

2008-03-03T16:37:00.002-05:00

until now. yuppers. i'm done. stick a fork in me.

hot damn I am glad I waded through a shitstorm of assholes to find one true heart, one loving man. I've known for awhile, but thought I'd just let the random blog readers know:

I AM A LUCKY GAL!!!!!!!!!!

The sweetest story ever

2008-02-26T22:27:00.002-05:00

an abused Iraqi dog tracks his new companion 70 miles in the desert and is now headed to life in San Diego

www.msnbc.msn.com/id/23295271/

I walked the line

2008-02-26T14:04:00.002-05:00

Ah.....my lovely new venue awaits, grand space to sell, lovely product to promote, a team as unstuffy as the hearty manchego bricks that line the open tapas bar.

I am an excited gal. Excited and proud that after yet another demeaning situation yesterday at the now-known-as-former job, I wrote a quick little email to HR, told my boss I was done speaking with him, asked him to have fun training my replacement that I had committed to transitioning for the next two weeks...and walked the fuck out.

I never meant to leave that way, although I am proud that I did it with dignity (although a little blubbering hit me at the door, I admit) and stood up for my persona in the last moments.

No more un-salaried frantic phone calls from my superiors, no more scraping by as busboys bring home more than me for half the hours and one sixteenth the work ethic, no more 'cover your ears Liza, this is Big Boy talk' demeaning comments, no more hiding that my lovely man whom I adore who loves me to no end walks the line there and deserves more time to himself and to us than he allows.

I am on a self-imposed (albeit broke) vacation for a week. I've spent the morning in Spring cleaning mode, tidying my new home office (!!!) where I will work about 50% of my time, readying my attitude and itching with pride.

This last year, these last twelve months have taught me so very much, so very, very much. God I am a lucky woman.

To my work 'mates' known as 'managers'

2008-01-29T20:44:00.000-05:00

Seriously...it's fucking food...and a fucking table of 10 that didn't have a credit card on file...figure it the fuck out when you realize that. DO NOT call me, otherwise known as "the under-paid office bitch," and take up my muther-fucking-non-salaried-time with your easy to solve fucking bullshit issues. If you are so mutherfucking adept at running that joint without a 'mama' on premesis to wipe your fucking bourbon-drenched-butthole, DO NOT CALL ME ON MY TIME OFF! PRESENT THE WOMAN WITH A FUCKING CHECK AND DEAL WITH THE MUTHERFUCKING 'AWKWARD SITUATION!'

Do you think my online porn addiction needs self-coitus-interupt-is when I am not getting paid enough to even indulge in the bought and kinked purchased variety?

i think not

scary neighbor sitch....

2008-01-13T15:28:00.000-05:00

Um, call me a drama queen if you will, oh internets.... but I just called 9-1-1 on a neighbor that has sounded like she was killing herself, killing someone, or just plain being killed....

Um, the cops left in hysterics....I now think she was killing her libido......

promise, and some darn funny coincidences...

2008-01-13T11:17:00.000-05:00

So....

Turns out:

the night before the interview- the partner's wife (vested in the business as well and going over the various resumes for the position that I am in the running for) realized that she is friends with my mom. Back home.

Turns out:

After the partner mentioned where he had moved to Florida from in the mid eighties- he and I were born in the same women's hospital half a country away, albeit a difference of 15+ or - years ago.

Turns out:

The venue space is 20,000 square feet of potential (gorgeous, imported from a turn of the 1800's century church timber trimmed) event space. I am currently working with about 5,000: and damn good at that.....

Turns out:

I am the only candidate out of 15 that has any knowledge of their other two Florida locations, and in fact have been a patron of their previous concepts from the mid-1990's as well. Back home.

Turns out:

I think I could rock the shit out of this opportunity given the complementing support and tools.

Turns out:

My weekend was a dilly.

Fingers and toes

2008-01-12T11:27:00.000-05:00

Searching for my charcoal gray skirt.

Turquoise cap sleeve turtleneck is on standby.

Debating about buying some cheap and chic heels to accompany both.

Hair is tidied and washed-away-of-the-premature-gray.

My fingers are crossed and my notes prepared.

Wish me luck, random internet readers.

Damn fine interview in T minus.........

casting couch

2008-01-05T08:34:00.000-05:00

Ah, the New Year! A time for reflection, action, and positivity.

It's a damn shame I'm not accomplishing any of the above...

My financial situation is feeling rather dire; so dire, in fact, that I wonder how hard it would be to partake in a spray tan, a flask of Jameson, a decent looking wig, and the gumption to walk on in to Dancers R0yale and let loose with the bump and grind.

The job search is...searching... I am still employed, of course, just not as gainfully as I would like. I've resorted to fibbing to my landlord this month while I borrow time until next paycheck. No more blathering about that....but I will ask:

"How in the G-damn hell did some 22 year old hostess that we hired 2 months ago get one of the friggin' catering sales jobs that I sent my (apparently-as-attractive-as-a-45-year-old-meth-addicted-hooker) resume in for??? Seriously? Did they pity the fact that she had a gaggle to support. And by gaggle I mean a nose that she could hide a kindergarten class in, and a set of chi-chis that could use a crane for their flapjack flipping?" --

ok, that was mean, bitter Liza coming out for a moment.

Bitter, bitchy and mean.

Sorry. I am.

She was a nice gal.

She truly was.

In the sidekick kind of way.

Jen L told me last night, in simple stated fact, "She must have known someone. That's how it works now. Don't worry. That's all that it probably was." That simple answer never would have occurred to me. Thank you Jen, for forcing me to imagine more than le'hostess giving casting-couch style sloppy blowjobs while she strapped her nose back to her cheek and slowly suffocated for the sake of her new job.

until next time.....

Santa makes me feel good about myself.

2007-12-22T20:46:00.000-05:00

Absorb the adorable:

While walking back toward the car today after a fruitless shopping trip, I was in step with a mother and her set of 4 to 5ish year old twin boys. The little one to my direct right had the quivering lip and the dragging gait of a child denied the most precious of commodities: a new book from Barnes and Noble.

Mama held a miniscule hand in each of hers, shoulder tote slung back, that maternal look of caution on her face as this disconnected group of shoppers and navigated the crosswalk.

Mama, "Santa is going to be here soon. Maybe he will bring you that book."

Little man, "You know what?" whimper-sputter-doleful look upwards "I hope Santa gets here quick, because he makes me feel good, and Mama? You don't make me feel too good right now."

Mama, utter patience "Yes, honey. I hope Santa gets here quick. He makes me feel good too."

My heart was swelling at that little man's poignant belief that magic does indeed still exist in the world. His very belief in the grandest of chimney sweepers who bring good books to even better boys although they sometimes drag their feet and give doe eyes to the Mama's of the world caused me to warm.

At that very moment, I heard something in me tick and I knew that there is a Santa out there who will make everything right in my small world as well.

Happy Holidays, folks, and may Santa bring you all that your heart can hope for.

Holiday to do-dees:

2007-12-22T13:47:00.000-05:00

1. Shop...on an extreme budget...due to the unexpected/emergency BUYING OF A NEW CAR :) :) :) the budget is oh-so-slim.

2. Pick up more coconut macaroon ingredients. Revel in the fact that I may have gotten the recipe oh-so-close to perfect.

3. Figure out why Princess Cat Zeeta-Blue is peeing on random things. Pray it is simply because she is sick of the organic biodegradable kitty litter I switched to and not some sort of kitten UTI.

4. Try to fix my durn vacuum so I am not coming back to a linty house.

5. Figure out a gift for Good Man that doesn't entail going to the mall, has meaning, is memorable, and won't freak him out.

6. Wash and detail my darling new vehicle: henceforth known as "Josephine (the Jetta)"

7. Bake and wrap said macaroons.

8. Write up "new year, new life" goals to post in my as-yet-to-be rearranged and organized study.

9. Take a breath.

ick

2007-12-11T21:22:00.000-05:00

Feeling a tad under the weather. Who am I kidding? I am feeling very much tad under the weather. The stress of my grean heap Isuzu biting the dust has caused my immune system to errode like Gulf Coast sugar-sand brunting an unexpected hurricane assault.

Blech. Sunday was spent in a haze of pitiful tearing up on the couch while the sickly sicky took hold and Mr. Good Man held my head to his chest while the even beat of his heart kept me calm.

I never call in sick to work. N-e-v-e-r. One and a half times this week. Time to slug more 'cherry' syrup and head to bed. Goodness I like to whine.

2007-11-22T22:33:00.001-05:00

thank you thank you thank you, to all............xoxoxoxox

Oh how the tides have changed.

2007-11-17T10:29:00.000-05:00

While randomly checking the site meter today, I came across a referral to a google search for "lookey loo." Odd enough, that one would be searching for that exact phrase, and odder yet that this blog would be the owner of the 4th url google sent a nod to. Out of curiosity, I clicked on the entry to find: http://lifeofliza.blogspot.com/2006/11/lookey-lookey-loo.html

I think this was a little sign from the person upstairs that I needed to sit back a second and take stock in my positive life changes over the course of almost a year to the date that the above post was published. The frustrated yet optimistic blatherings have come to fruition. Excepting the bakery/bar...I've done it all. In less than a year. And more.

Thanksgiving is rounding the bend; I am in fact heading out to do the cutlery/ dishware/ organization shopping that needs doing. I am waiting for a final head count for the first ever Thanksgiving meal in my new place!!!

Some changes could be seen as strictly superficial:

1. I moved into the best, most "me" apartment I've ever had. This isn't some slick downtown high-ish rise with cabanas and a pool surrounded in gleaming marble with complimentary tanning beds and concierge service that I am laying my head down in every night. My new place is a sturdy 1950's era quadplex with stucco Mediterranean walls, arches into a real dining room, a study/guest room/art studio with two sets of french doors that stream light into both living room that doesn't house my bed and a kitchen with just enough space for me and the occasional guest or two to hang out over a bubbling pot of whatever and a few glasses of wine. There are aging wood floors that show the scuffs of true living and enough windows to cause me to feel connected to the palms out back and the neighborhood out front.

2. The purchase of my first piece of long-lasting, brand spanking new furniture. The bed was delivered when I first started typing this post, and now graces my bedroom as the focal point of the best durn bedroom I've had in y-e-a-r-s.

3. Student loans are slowly being whittled down. On time.

And some changes can be seen as a testament to holistic development.

1. I would rather sit in with paints, a good book, a glass of wine and the plan to rise early on a Saturday morning than trek downtown for a night of slurry conversations and the promise of a pounding headache to wake me the next day at noon.

2. Patience in relationships is a new and lovely feeling, albeit scary and uncharted waters that I am wading. I am forcing myself to learn confidence in someone else's words and to not expect the worst while insisting on only the best. I am slowly learning that power can be seen in calm and quiet vs loud and forceful pressure.

3. Acceptance of things that I cannot change, namely family relationships that "are what they are."

4. Belief in my value as an individual with the beginnings of a career that could satisfy me in so many ways.

5. Understanding that my body will one day fail, and for the moment, I will cherish, respect and develop it through good habits and spiritual development that will take my being farther than my strong legs ever could.

Thanksgiving, indeed.

in kind

2007-11-13T17:36:00.000-05:00

The whisper of palm fronds tickling the screens of open bedroom windows as the long due autumnal southern chill floats over our covered limbs.

His hands, those hands that work so hard with such conviction and such grace, smooth my brow in the dark replacing my natural state of tension with a calm I am fond of, if not familiar with as of late.

I would love to write the words, the whispers that made me blink furitive emotion into the depth of his shoulder. I would love to write the words, but for once, I am keeping this sweet secret of his caring to myself and to him. I am binding myself to gaurd this precious state that I hope to travel far into with this man.

He is a good man.

Beep beep beep. backing it up....

2007-10-13T15:22:00.000-04:00

Open letter to those that read my blog:

This blog is by no means a form of constant communication between myself and the world. If you are, or have been a person I have known in real life, and you find the not-so-consistent entries I post to be a personal message from me to the outside world and therfore find the necessity to either

a) give me unwarranted advice when this blog is just that: a blog of my personal ramblings

or

b) comment that the only way you can communicate with me is by leaving said comments:

please

a) realize this is a journal, and due to my increasingly public, productive, and busy life in a new career the random times I do post usually occur sometime after a few glasses of wine (as my lack of free time has turned my tolerance to alcohol closer to that of a naive 13 year old boy) and are by no means a reflection of my constant mental state.

and

b) know that if I am not in contact with you either via face-to-face interaction, phone calls, or email, there is most certainly a reason. I do not keep people in my life that accuse me of being neglectful to relationships when in fact, I make it very clear that I am a singular person with a very busy life and enjoy my quiet time devoid of the bustle of everyday. I wish everyone that has been a positive part of my life all of the best. I do know how to acknowledge the end of relationships due to growing apart, differences unable to overcome, etc; therefore I am ok with the changes in status.

I may still use this blog for a creative outlet now and again...as of now... I'm closing comments in a week. Thanks for your interest.

2007-10-06T00:45:00.000-04:00

so many months, so many years.....who gives a flying rat's ass anyway, really>>>??>>>!!! Not too many.

let's see:

the last few months, I came precariously close to ending my life through a good ole stash of the (all of life) pain killers I have after early year's surgery, a cheap souce of whiskey, and a wealthy bit of self-indulgence.

I wonder now: WHY IN 'GOD'S' HOLY FUCK IS MY INCONSEQUENTIAL ABILITY TO WRITE AND FORM SENTENCES ANYTHING THAT IS DUE APPLAUSE OR ESTEEM?

we are all fair children of one cell that bred to another, a mishap, an anomoly, a pointless piece of stupid stupid solemn shit................. slice it dice it die. so done. let me find ajesus, a moses, a false prophet to love on.

yeah, that's it......let me find another faux feeling to wallow in.

so long from posting...so long from my life

2007-07-25T02:25:00.000-04:00

yes, well, all I can say is:

ive come to the conclusion that i dont care about punctuation, nor do i apprantly care about the city i call home as ive had too many dreams about

a detroit

b pittsburg

c some-sorta-canadian-opressed-city

to feel like i am connected in any way to where i lay my head. perhaps im blessed in the fact that

1. i can afford to drink to get drunk and not only to swill the previous shifts dismay away

but

2. i am alive despite the odds

3. i am back in cheering distance to my family. I hope that we are not rivals, but squadrons to a greater cause,

tonight, at the local bar, one i have not patronized for the better part of a year, while half-assed watching the sights and sounds of americana on the screens, a man while in the company of his woman friend chose to my elbow with her apparant encouragement and he said,

"Hey, We just want you to know, that whatever you're writing in that journal of yours, whatever has you sitting here: you deserve to be treated like a queen. We know that."

and to that, I said, "you've just made my night, my week, my month." Witht that point, on my 2 beer consumption, I promptly made my way to the bathroom where I wept for less than a minute to prove that I still could, and to prove that I could still be touched by the unexpected encouragement of strangers. I b

2007-06-01T23:27:00.000-04:00

iiiiiiiiii wwwwwiisshhhhhhhhhh tthhaaaaattt...... i was a worthy source of adoration. I THINK I am...i am TOLD I am....i apparantly do not BELIEVE I am...

god damn how i often wish i was happy to find a man that worked on trailers and have a productive and virtuous life due to lovin' and lack.

sorry for the offense.

ps: told the d when asked for what my plans were tomorrow that I was "going on a date." if only his little anti-commital un-expected cough was followed by an 'oh crappy I f*#&ed up" then his little insignifigance world coulda crumbled......

booooooooo

tinkle time blog byte

2007-05-04T23:01:00.000-04:00

It is Friday night. 11pm. I've been home from work for hours, in which a quickish cleaning and way-too-involved hairstyling took place here at Casa La Liza. It is 11pm. On a Friday night. I am home alone. And so very, very, damn happy to be exhausted with good reason, for new work makes me feel a part of something worth dipping my toe in.

Yeah, I could use some friends calling me with invites to socialize. I could go for a gentleman of knock-my-sox-off-in-proportion-to-my-needs-and-his-honesty to ring me up and wisk me off. I could go for my Mama to live down the block from me so I could cook dinner with her every damn night of the week if I so chose. I could go for a dad that felt the way about me. I could go for re-kindling friendships I thought were gone through un-expected emails and slightly wily convos (thanks, BVF) while reevaluating the constructive nature of others (or sadly the lack thereof.)

I could. I should. I would.

and so I will.

brief............

2007-04-28T16:30:00.000-04:00

my.new.job.errr career.choice.rocks.

will post more (including the woeful rundown of my social life and my craving of words...) when better inspired and not getting ready for my last night ever wearing a damn bistro apron and pretending that I am happy to serve damn pomegranete 'martinis' to couples in love that save their tip money for trojans and un-doubtedly have all sorts of giddy, couple-y, smooch-y plans that don't involve getting me laid or in-loved at all. FYI said giddy, smoochy couple: the drunken, leering invite to join in a threesome does not count as a tip, make me your friend, or make me giddy in the least.

new job ( a for real one, not a fake one....)

2007-04-10T13:45:00.000-04:00

So.......not only was yesterday Official 50% off Easter Candy Day, it was also Liza Got The Job She Wanted Day!

It is still in hospitality, so the hours may remain a little wonkier than 'usual,' but you know what: it's in Event Sales and Planning! Woooooooooooooo-hooooo!!!! It's the field I've known forever that I should get into, and although it's not a gold mine job to start: it's what I want to do!!! Starting out in a corporate situation in this field seems to be ideal. There will be support structure in place, a new and eager staff to work the events, a buzz that will hopefully be conducive to event interest, room to grow, and actual, real, true, benefits!!!!

And due to the above news? I think I deserved the approximately 1,000 calories of Easter candy I consumed last night in post-hired rapture while reading a chick-lit book until the sun was nearly rising.

I am a happy, happy girl. :)

chocolate and tummyaches

2007-04-09T01:09:00.000-04:00

Do you know what tommorrow is?! It is official "50% off Easter Candy Day!!!!" How excited am I to buy all of the chocolicious, cadbury/peeps/palmer's crap that I can shove into my finally-not-puking-due-to-abatement-of-food-poisoned gullet? Pretty darn excited...

I may have been puking and pooping for the past 24 hours, but damn if my abs aren't gonna be ripped and I damn it if I don't deserve some chocolate in my system. I could totally go for the Reese's egg shaped peanut butter cups (the ration of p.b to the chocolate is so much more pleasing to me during their holiday editions, although I'd never be able to turn down a ruffle-edged reese's either,) perhaps a few cadbury mini-eggs (the crisp candy coated solid chocolate ones), a big ole' glass of Simply Orange to wash it down with, and a stack of dvd's to indulge in.

am I really this easy to please nowadays?

orlando: city of priorities...

2007-04-04T23:15:00.000-04:00

Orlando.

breaking news for the evening?

"Up to the minute coverage on the Universal Studios mystery! Why did the roller coaster The Mummy mysteriously stop mid-ride tonight?!"

seriously.

a loose bolt; said roller coaster is of the likes of Snow White's Adventure at the magic kingdom. You know...an animitronic showcase with whirling mannequins and spooky sound effects.

who gives a shit of about the pedophilia, murder, rape, and bad traffic that runs rampant damage in our city beautiful.

It's the rides we care about.

we're all just here for the rides.

my how I love those curves, I'd ride them faster than you can say bullet light and sissy bar.....

2007-04-03T13:31:00.000-04:00

Well, it looks as though a few folks still read this thing and of all suprises: comment.... Perhaps this revelation signifies that it is time to attempt to write with some regularity again and perhaps keep the ranting a tad more private.

the day is too pretty to sit inside and write though, so I am slapping on some comfy clothes and jumping on my bike. I spent a wholly unnatural amount of time last night looking up geeky bicycle accessories and came across the neuvo-vintage Schwinn models. I am ABSOLUTELY determined flash out on one of those or perhaps an Electra cruiser when my new job* kicks in. I wanted to suckle the juice out of the juicy tangerine and ruby red frames glittering like fireflies on my laptop screen last night. I wanted cuddle the leopard seats of a few and ride off into the night guided by the beam of the sexiest torpedo fender mount light this side of the Mississippi. le sigh......

*optimism in getting the position is neccessito, and an email received a few minutes ago regarding my chances was all I needed to switch back into hopeful mode.............................

I hate people.................

2007-03-31T03:13:00.000-04:00

and I quothe him, "don't worry Liza, she is no one I would ever get engaged to, marry, or even date for God's sake. She is not like you. You are a catch. I am so very, very, very sorry I didn't tell you until now.*"

This "now" being after he said "we needed to talk.*" He received a phone call from a 'former partner' and she had a bacteria infection.

I didn't know 'former partner*' constituted a girl who was the daughter of a client that he had un-protected sex with after he and I had started a sexual relationship, naively on my part (as I thought once I breeched that ground with someone I was dating, that it was a monogamous thing... Gosh how stupid am I????)

the kicker is: when you two were having sex the last time: I was in the HOSPITAL having EMERGENCY SURGERY because I almost died. I'm glad his little trip out of town was fun for the both of you.

I'm also so very, very glad that you are a 'sweet girl who really doesn't know any better, and Liza, you need to write her back and tell her that she just picked the wrong guy.*'

Well, Female #635,264: you picked the wrong guy. I'm sure he's already turning this around and saying that he's only met me once, and that I 'dropped my pants and jumped on him,*' just as he told me about you.

Point being: it sucks to be 23 and and naive. It sucks even worse to be reclaiming your health while trying to resume what seems to be a truthful, cerebral, kind relationship where 'making love' is the term used from the get-go and to then find out that Calo's trips to the beach weren't for surfing, but for trying to catch crabs.

You can have him.

You may be 'sweet and stupid*' but please don't be stupid enough to believe the lies he spreads around town as easy as some girls spread their legs.

*credited to the one and only Monsieur Douchebag# 12,451,764,776,235,712.

so....I did my part. I wrote you again. Have fun with the whole civil war thing. I hear it's a real hoot and a half.

letter to a man

2007-03-27T14:39:00.000-04:00

*this is a copy of an email that I sent, and meant only as a venting excercise and for personal posterity.*

Dad;
I just wish that I was part of a family that made me feel like an actual member, and not a visiting 'friend.' The email that I received from [name of wife*] kind of shocked me regarding her belief that I am not there for the girls and for your familiy, when I have done everything I can think of to try to bond. Although I am single and live only a few hours away, you need to know that at this point in my life it is a definite strain financially and time-wise (as I am struggling to make ends meet on a daily basis and will work whenever I can) to visit during the times most convenient to the rest of the world, but I DO try when I can. I do not have the happy-go-lucky lifestyle that people assume 'young' single people have and the lack of scheduling and responsibilites that was insinuated. I in fact, struggle more than most and therefore do not have freedom to even splurge on 4o dollars worth of gas that my vehicle requires to visit the Tampa area. Please let [name of wife*] know that I was ready and willing (as you and I discussed and you said it wasn't neccessary) to drop everything when Jay passed and I have in fact had lengthy discussions with you regarding what I have studied regarding adolescent grief and coping methodologies and how this may relate to the girls. I was very hurt when she wrote that basically, I don't seem to care.

I don't know if those thoughts were what caused the lack of contact or visiting when I was sick, but I know I was and am still hurt because of it. You said that, "I didn't know if this was serious or not." But aiding on the side of caution, and from what I can only assume is the natural parental viewpoint: if a child of any age is taken by ambulance and put under emergency care and subsequent surgery that has an actual full-recovery time of 3 months; it is serious. Do you know what a horrible feeling it is to sign forms in a severely drugged state saying, "Yes, you may perform a hysterectomy if this is indeed neccessary. Yes I consent to begin cancer treatment (i.e. removal of abdominal organs affected) if this mass is determined to be malignant...etc" while totally and completely alone? It sucks. It sucks really, really bad. That, is not the bad part though. That was due to circumstance of living where I live, and being here alone.

The worst part was that during surgical recovery my Dad didn't want to see me.

That is what really, really hurts.

Three weeks after the procedure I had my second follow-up. I've been scheduled for follow-ups bi-weekly and now monthly, an amount I thought excessive unitl the appointment in which they told me, (and I paraphrase) "Now that you're up and about and everything seems to be on track, we need to let you know that this is something that we need to watch and control. You had in fact a type of growth that had been producing toxins for quite a while and leaking into your system. This was through no fault of your own, but we can not let this happen again. When you were brought in to the hospital, you were fully septic. If you had not come in, and surgery was not performed, you would have been dead within 3 to 4 hours." Apparantly: it was as serious as it gets.

So, now I have $25,000 in medical bills to show for it, medicine I take every day at 5 o'clock for an indefinite period of time, I do not have my day job over it, and I don't understand the total lack of paternal concern over it.

But thanks to it: I know my friends are my true family here and I know that I have the right to surround myself with people that are proud to know me, and support me emotionally as well as physically when life throws you the worst. I had a friend say to me last week, as he and I were talking about strained family relationships and the pain that parental dis-interest has played in many dysfunctional situations, "Liza, this may sound severe, but it is a very, very hard thing to accept when you realize that people may not want you in their life in the same capacity that you do. It is hard to accept that some people don't look at family the same way."

I replied, "And that is why I believe that you can create your own family from those around you that truly do care."

On that note: it is your choice to visit me if you are so inclined. I am done pretending to make myself feel welcomed in your new life. I've realized that life is definitely too short to either hold anger or hold internal expectations of family that can not be met.

As stated I am not angry, I am just severely, intensely hurt. This is hurt stems only, only, only from what is our relationship. This does not reflect anything other than that. I have made peace with the situations of the past, no matter how unsavory and unpleasant the memories, and hold no judgement or anger. Those feelings are worked though, gone and done, but I cannot keep ignoring the hurt I feel over and over and over again when I just wish I had a father that showed true, honest concern for his daughter.

I love you too.

the dicothemy of the sucking in this girl's life.

2007-02-27T23:59:00.000-05:00

Update:

surgery sucks.
emergency surgery sucks worse than a 12 year old Mormon.
work sucks.
work sucks worse when you don't have a lucrative other-offer in the works.
boys suck.
boys suck on some parts quite nicely, on occassion.
cooking sucks.
cooking sucks when you've enjoyed it to the extreme and realize you have bespeckled pans of gorgeous pork-chop residue and bowls full of the detritus of daaz (haagen daaz, that is) precariously perched on the sink edge that of which is necessary for morning routines.
my grammar sucks.
my grammar sucks really bad after 3 glasses of "Red Bicyclette Syrah" and the aforehinted gluttony of cajun chops, pointless white rice, and some damn good roasted onion parts (b/c said good-sucking boy(s) not allowed to visit un-announced.

I am quite fond of myself right now, despite what the naysayers tout!

Im currently having some strange sensory flashback regarding my 8th and 9th year Halloween, I believe...............odd. cany corn and Tampa-salty breezes.

2007-02-17T00:28:00.000-05:00

hypothetically speaking, of course:
boys are wierd.

done, issue number 4 thousand 6 hundred ninety seven and a quarter.

2007-02-12T23:05:00.000-05:00

"Hey, it's me Liza. I'm going to bed right now, but you should give me a call sometime tomorrow so we can just talk about this and end whatever interaction this is, honestly: this is just silly." ummmm...to the point? I sure as shit hope....'cause i def don't have time for this crap. If I'm about to 'date' someone, and not see other people...I kinda need to feel like I'm actually 'dating' someone and not a 'every few nights phone-a-friend' that you don't actually want to hang out with.

peace

the

fuck

out.

2007-01-30T13:00:00.000-05:00

i love my life. i am so very, very lucky.

Bitch, Moan, Smile and Smooch.

2007-01-24T20:44:00.000-05:00

It's surely been awhile since I've written. 10 days seems like ten months considering all of the activity in my life. From the visits to the kidnapping* to the new job to the new boy** to the new circles of crazy networking meetings*** and whatnot, it's a whirlwind and I love the feeling of a breeze blowing my hair to-and-luscious-fro. My apartment is littered with the detritus of busy, a clutter I can deal with. Jackets hung to de-wrinkle and air (as of yet, I'm still poor folks, so dry-cleaning takes the backseat to Febreeze and a prayer,) a pile of cozy slippers that my cats oddly drag piece by piece into the middle of my living room (indication not of my business, but of my kitties' odd compulsion to collect things in one place that are A. Soft and B. Smell like my feet,) and a few empty wine glasses on the counter that were dirtied in a pair. I am busy. I am therefore blissful.

Not to bring a wheelbarrow of whine into the barn, but I cannot wait until I no longer have to walk in the doors of the restaurant as an employee. On one hand, I shouldn't write this, because for all intents and purposes the 'manager' of hinted established is a short 4 mouseclicks away, but on the other hand: I've not been treated with respect there for the better part of a year, so why the hell should I not say: "Learn to respect people other than the 21 year old employees you're shagging behind your 'wife's' back"; or "You should take, oh-lets-say, an hour or four of basic management training (really, a few hours with the management of the local Waffle House could teach you a few pointers, plus you can play your horrid music on the jukebox while you train!)", as well as, "Please realize that some people do not think waiting tables at a shit-run restaurant is the pinnacle of their success and a feat which must be honored with multitudes of gratitude to you for hiring their over-qualified and under-appreciated self."

The end. Now I get to go think about how lovely my day will be tomorrow when I have some kick-ass meetings with clients that *gasp* realize I am a grown woman and deserve a modicum of respect, and followed by a possible cuddle in the pm with a boy** that made me coffee this morning even though he wasn't due out of bed for another 2 hours who has eyes the color of St. Croix and a smile as bright as her sun.

oh, and the kidnapping*? That's an entire post to itself. Criminal intent sucks.

good times.....and future exhaustion.

2007-01-16T17:38:00.000-05:00

Yay! My big bubba is coming to town tomorrow! Yay for Yoshua! I love that my family is understanding my need for them, the fact that I do adore time with them even though they may have thought differently. My mama was here this weekend, my brother tomorrow, and it looks like one of my multitude of cousins may be taking a trip up here this weekend as well.

Although I'm super duper excited about Josh coming here tomorrow, I am dreading what will be a Thursday from the seventh circle. We have plans for dinner after I get home from work with some famous UK (I believe) dj guys, and then a show down at Vintage to watch them spin. I know I told myself and Josh that I'd leave early...I have a 7 am meeting with the Chamber of Commerce, a lunch meeting out of the office, some appointments for accounts and then I have to work a night shift at the restaurant. Dear goodness if this doesn't prove I have some potential to take over the role of Superwoman sometime soon, then I don't know what does...

And lordy... famous. UK. dj's. Those are three (albeit always un-healthy) vices of mine: drive, foreign accents, and for some freakish reason: dj's. I sure as hell ain't cutting dinner short.

Cheers!

Chapters and some such stuff.

2007-01-14T20:21:00.000-05:00

I feel invincible. I feel that my life is on the track meant for me at the moment. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I don't feel like the 'crazy girl that can't get her head screwed on straight.' Things are changing and I could cry with gratitude for some of the influences in my life whether be it friends, family, or understanding professionals that know the right words to use.

Today during my brunch shift (at my now-gloriously-only-part-time job) two men, a sweet couple who I have come to have an easy rapport with, were talking to me about the prospect of one of them transferring to the West coast, and the probability that it would be the end of their new-ish relationship. John* swallowed the last of his pinot blanc and said to me, "Liza, this may be the end of a chapter, and I don't know if there will be any more chapters between Jim* and I."

I geared myself, as to be privy and included in a conversation so bittersweet is not without responsibility. They had both finally found each other but seemed uncertain whether to take the risk of togetherness and eschew the naysayers that believed the youth of not their ages but of their relationship was tantamount to instant downfall.

The table to my east was beckoning for yet another trivial accoutrement, so I mustered and told John, "Just remember that there will always be another chapter if you're willing to risk it and write the book."

I'm taking my own advice, and to hell with the folks that have only seen me as a rough draft un-worthy of edit.

Tribal

2007-01-13T09:39:00.000-05:00

It's gonna be tough stuff to start, but damn if this new job doesn't suit me to a T! It's odd how I feel like I've been plopped down onto an island inhabited by suit-clad/networking-happy/creative/driven natives and somehow I intinctively speak the language, wear the dress, and know the customs minutes after my (hoepefully) fortuitous arrival.

Lemme just say: It is a damn good feeling to find a tribe.

wha?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

2007-01-07T22:16:00.000-05:00

sn't it odd...the little globe of self-inflation that myspace is. I log on and see the fire-engine red notice of friend requests or comments or message and somehow feel my life is more full.

What makes full, my dear-hearts...I question you this: What makes true, lovely, real?

Perhaps this post has to do with my blinding insecurity bathed in the self-knowledge of idiocy...not so dumb that I would make mistakes thrice over for the sakes of the better man.........but true to the count of two. if ever I could find someone to bear the (social) firing squad with.

Humbled now, in the fact that I will be wearing a pin stripe suit in less hours than there are patterns, I shall be sweeping my hair up for the sake of advertising-prosperity...I bid you adieu....

May all the folks that read, from Baltimore (C) to Orlando (Chuckles), to LA (Chamberlain), be blessed, thankful, fortunate and pride-full in the next few months...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxooooo

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

2006-12-31T19:13:00.000-05:00

Vanilla-ey coffee and some of Mama's coconut macaroons post-nap is a good start to the eve of New Year's. Now if only the heinous zit on my cheek that is trying to overtake the eastern hemisphere of my face would magically disappear within the next hour or so, and the start would be even more stellar. I swear I'm going to have to name this thing soon. Zitzilla. The Count of Mounti-Cysto. Pimpleina. Someone find me a lance and a dark-ages doctor...stat.

Well, to anyone reading this: Have a lovely, happy, safe New Year's Eve; may you have many kisses at midnight and throughout the year to come, and may we all be blessed in the ways we wish.

...

2006-12-28T15:28:00.000-05:00

Oooooh heavens! I have a brand new blue beach cruiser and a brand new super-delux vacuuuuuum! Weeeeee!!!! What a wonderful holiday! I'm about to take myself on a ride and then get ready to help the Ferguson's with their holiday party for the Orlando Ballet. Good times, and good moods abound. Is it odd that the prospect of hepa-filter-helped carpeting and a grand new bike to tool around on can put me in such a fab mood? Maybe it's just the cleaning and excercising that does it...

In approximately one week I'll be receiving my chrome fenders that I ordered to flash out the bike, professionally installed by the very friendly guy "Dan" at the bike shop, and perhaps by then I'll have figured out what type of basket to plug onto the front. Ah.....today's dream of a day sure beats the nightmare of last night where I was living in a hovel somewhere out West, having sex with some 47 year old, ex-rockstar (albeit still cute in a Tommy Lee sorta way) heroin junkie while my parents beat on the door to my bedroom hoping for an intervention...

alright....heading for that ride...

done and doing

2006-12-21T14:26:00.000-05:00

New year, new me. I ain't talking of re-inventing myself a la Madonna circa 91, 93, 95, & 97..., I'm talking about just a general vow to myself that I am done. D-O-N-E with the mishmash of a schedule that wrecks havoc on my circadian rhythym, D-O-N-E with the flippant friendships only nurtured over a bottle of wine and not so much real conversation, D-O-N-E with the debt that has been the 396 lb gorilla clinging to my back like a bad relationship, D-O-N-E with living week to week without remembering or hoping for a bigger picture, D-O-N-E with being satisfied to ho-hum life in my tiny (albeit adorable) apartment month-to-month-to-month with no real desire to venture further than the 2 square miles I seem most comfortable in.

A long talk with my dear brother last night about his plans for isolation from the assholes in his life has got me thinking, and damn inspired. Why the hell don't I move to some slick little apartment complex in Millenia/Metrowest/Maitland, away from the hustle and ease of this downtown I know too well, and create my own little cacoon where I can run on a complex-provided treadmill in the early mornings, head to my new job bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, succeed, prove myself, and sleep the exhausted sleep of a productive life?

So, fine readers, for the new year, I propose a new me: D-O-N-E and therefore intent on D-O-I-N-G.............

hell to the yeah.

2006-12-19T12:53:00.000-05:00

I
have
a
new
job.
It
does
not
involve
slinging around
food and beverage,
dumbing myself down,
wearing an apron,
or smelling like edibles on a daily basis.

Merry Christmas;
Happy Hanukkah
to me...

too much

2006-12-18T12:45:00.000-05:00

way too much sangria at the work holiday party + premenstrual aching huge boobs = a miserable me today. This was to be a day started off early with Vietnamese food, Christmas shopping, and general errand-doing. I think I just want to find a rock and crawl under it.....

i could go for...

2006-12-15T09:38:00.000-05:00

Ok. So I could really go for:

flowers at my doorstep
photobooth pictures worthy of framing
a little lovely-ness in my life

Yeah, I could really go for that.

2006-12-15T00:42:00.000-05:00

Yeah, the below post? That's what happens when a girl is wearing a sassy new velvet jacket/shrug with a prized vintage brooch, a head of complimented hair, the memory of an awesome 'girl date' with her bestest friend in the world, and has a head not totally de-void of a red wine buzz. So, lest I seem a conceited brat: please note, fair readers, that last night I had a much needed sunshiney hair up my ass, and the post is by no means the day-to-day braggadocio of moi. I just combined three languages in one sentence, four if you count html...

Anyhoo; I'm quite excited for the weekend, despite the fact that I will be working it like crazy at the restaurant, I have managed to procure not only one out-of-town dear friend visit, but two! Messy Nessy will be arriving tommorrow while I am at aforementioned work, and staying until Sunday morning, and Sunday evening the one-and-only Mike on a Bike will storm to my apartment all the way from the land of Bau Haus and Weinerschnitzel (although it must be said he's pit-stopping in the Burg before what I will dub The Reunion of the Two Craziest Kids Weekend and his visit isn't entirely based on hanging out with me, Crazy #2; as I will now refer to myself for the remainder of the weekend.) Here's to hoping for lots of sassy danceathon times Sunday y Monday.

fugly lady

2006-12-13T22:38:00.000-05:00

I am not an eyesore. Oh, heavens to Betsey, I finally realize: I am not. Is it odd that it has taken the better part of how many decades for me to reason as such? This is not vanity, nor is it conceited belief, to state strange fact: I am not an ugly girl. I may not be the most ravishing of the rasberry bunch, but I am certainly keen and tart enough a member of said patch to be rightfully taken notice of. Let me revel in my un-ugly and know that I have one talent not honed by lessons, literature, training, or guilt.

?
?
?
?
?
?
?

A few thoughts.

2006-12-12T22:11:00.000-05:00

Ok, so it suddenly occurs to me after imbibing on my first dose of this neuvo-happy-pill that my doctor has given me to stave off the crazies that: Not everyone is comfortable talking or knowing about the faulty psychiatric wiring of those around us. I have dealt with ongoing clinical depression for most of my life, all of the life that I can rememeber, and it is just a un-normal normalcy of my day-to-day being that I am over the 'taboo' of it.

Depression is not something that one can 'snap out of' or 'get over.' It is a very real characteristic that changes in lifestyle and better exercise (although very, very helpful) cannot magically alter. I am conflicted about medication, I know therapy would help me immensely, but honestly, our society makes it much, much easier to find subsidized pharmaceuticals versus subsidized counseling. Add in a dash of manic tendencies and a heaping helping of anxiety issues, and there forms the emotionality of a girl that thinks too damn much for her own good. A good that might do well with a little dose of something more lasting than a dram of whisky on a cold-ish winter night. Just a few thoughts.

I am very excited about the prospects of this new year, I need to remind myself of the blessings I have. Chin-up, self. Chin-up.

2006-12-06T02:55:00.000-05:00

I want a grant, a huge fucking grant where I can will the expenditures to wallow me in a studio, a photographic graphic digital granted studio. I will have lights and life and the right to yell and the right and hope and heart to yell and scream and to stretch and run and play. I want this grant. I want this today, I want this now, this hope to take inventory of the things better and so very much brighter than me. To this I owe myself, the world, the inconceivable beings so much harder working than a girl with some film...... I want this. More than a bakery, more than a name to shout from the rooftops, more than a pause to take in the day.

I want this.

I need this.

I am homeless without the prospect of a modicum of hope that:

I am more than this sad little life I am leading.

wants

2006-12-04T21:36:00.000-05:00

I just wonder, I wonder so much about the path my life will take, the life I am leading, the family I may or may not one day have... I've spent the day cleaning, doing laundry, scrubbing baseboards and rugs. It feels grand to have an apartment with the semblance of control, I just wonder what I am doing it all for...God, I'd love some better direction, some insight... I am not unhappy, just complacent. I'd love to have a life with a partner and the chance of nurturable children, whether by me, by choice, or by fostering. The idea of painting a house in the summer heat, planning backyard parties, paying bills at the kitchen table teamed-up, cooking feasts for 2, 3, 5, or 12... These are my wants. No need for new cars, or gucci, these are my wants which oftentimes are so much harder to accomplish than the material goods one can get caught up in.

late night ramblings of a steroidal ingestor...

2006-12-04T02:41:00.000-05:00

Hmmmm....well my Sunday started at 3pm, well, 2pm-ish if you account for how long it took me to rise from the cave I was sleeping in and join the world. My rabid sore throat seems to be on the way to eased due to the lovely prednisone pack that lovely Helen handed me after a lovely catch-up session at Dexter's.

It truly eased my heart and mind to hang out with her today; albeit was a bit akward when certain sbjects of certain felled fellows came up although the shared dislike seemed to skip us over that blip. I am so very happy for her and next-door-neighbor-best-friend-turned-hubby, it gives me hope that I may one day such contentment.

Last night I had a night of text messaging, champagne, photo-boothing, guitaring, belly-laugh once or twice-ing, and a pledge to myself that I really need to commit to better underwear in general.

Tommorow will hopefully be a day full of latte drinking, laundry-ing, interviewing (please please please,) cleaning, and baking.

i am a tad bit chipper.

2006-11-28T12:12:00.000-05:00

So, I don't get it. I get emails about my blog, late night text messages from the West coast regarding my blog (yeah, you; I'm talking about you,) comments out in public about my blog from near strangers, yet not a damn one of ya's leaves commentary. Call me vain and self-serving, but a girl likes some proof.

Speaking of proof: apologies (kinda) to anyone on the receiving end of any sort of *ahem* phone calls or the like last night... too bad for my libido that nothing seems to pan out lately. Thank whatever Lord there is that I know some free porn resources and I know how to utilize them. TMI. Ok, that didn't speak of proof at all, simply my lack of fluid segue way ability.

Good news! All of my test results from the doctor came back healthy as a horse, no dengue fever, malaria, cancer, or shingles! No horrid viral or bacterial infections are eating away at my brain, liver, kidneys or other sweetmeats! Yippee! How did I celebrate? By having an insanely cheap tab at the Peacock Room that for once, I remembered to pay. And then I threw cash money at Joe's head and promised to give him some...I think...I don't suppose I'll be going through with that promise any time soon...I think...

Well, it's about that time that I'ma gonna strap on my iPod, crank up the Journey, go on a jog whilst my laundry is sudsing away, treat myself to a soy latte, a phone interview, and a bag full of smiles.

alright, that is officially the cheesiest commencement to a post that I believe I've ever typed, feel free to prove me wrong with some anonymous comment of a sharper cheddar magnitude

I like me better than the next child you choose

2006-11-27T01:04:00.000-05:00

I like me better than her,
that one girl
the one girl with the easy laugh and the young-for-now face.
I like me better than her,
the girl like a child that sings to you too easily, to ready and willing to bend
ready to saunter with hips slim and her necessary not-yet-a-woman insecurity masked in artsy-fartsy-bad-acrylic-painting
drinks only chai born post production of
Singles
or "I'm not going to work at the Gap"
or remembering Nirvana when they were challenging the airwaves,
no myspace videos introducing.
She does not know the Reagan administration
and trickle down economics,
Louise Brown?
Challenger tragedy?
Madonna pre-mama?
Hilton is a name, not a hotel,
Seinfeld only in syndicate,
lace-edged leggings without irony,
and for all of this girl that I like me better than
there must be woman to whom the Clash meant more than re-vamped Cash
to me.

lookey lookey loo.

2006-11-26T21:08:00.000-05:00

Alright. So Thanksgiving was one of calm, too much food (on my account,) too much sleep (once again on my account,) and just enough time for me to realize just how freakin' sick I am of waiting tables. Yeah, the whole "You're gonna be the new pastry gal" prospect is nice, but seeing as I am realizing, ahem, I'd looooove some health insurance, perhaps the idea of some retirement plan, um, the whole getting ahead in life theme I need to concentrate on developing: it is time to make the move to move the heck on and find said goals accessible. I've been shooting off emails left and right the past two days, hoping for one to hit a reasonable target and to trap the oh-so-elusive interview.

It would be dandy if I could slap an "Open" sign on my very own bakery/bistro/bar tomorrow, but lacking capital, credit, and I'll be obviously honest here: business skills most necessary, it looks like the business plans and menu ideas will continue to marinate on my cluttered desk until the day that the grant/finance/knowledge fairy pays me a visit. It's time to set out a plate of snowflakes, some thimble cookies, a wee bit of sparkles, and whatever else draws Tinkerbell-like creatures to my doorstep.

The logical step would be to take the damn business classes i dread, find myself a high earning sales job in the process (and by high-earning I mean earning the gross income of what others feel is merely the survival level because: I am a frugal one, folks. I can be happy with a plate of organic beans and sriracha spiced rice if the meal is nourishing a dream greater than my appetite for medium-rare burgers and red wine...)

Speaking of red wine: I am waiting to venture out on my Sunday night gay-boyfriend date, and seeing as a real date with said gay-boyfriend will be holding him up awhile (perhaps pressed against the side of the taco joint they are heading to, if Mr. Mr. is lucky tonight) I am currently sitting alone wearing a gorgeous head of hair (thanks to Italian Grandma recipe for conditioner: slap two parts warm olive oil on 4 parts head o' hair and wash out when you start feeling like an under cooked pot of ziti,) and a rosey-mauve flower tucked appropriately to the mane. The red wine part? I'm looking forward to drinking some soon.

2006-11-21T01:52:00.000-05:00

meditation + positivity + stream of consiousness writing = calm.

oh blessed, mental calm.

I neeeeeds me a turkey.p

2006-11-20T02:33:00.001-05:00

MMMMMMmmmmmmmmm.............one shift for a private dinner party on Tuesday night, and excepting that, a full week free.............ah the love on a non-corporate job is immeasurable when the air finds itself crip and the windows are just so much better off when left free and cracked open to sea-form breezes and the rustle of oak leaves on my sill. I love the friggin' holidays.

positivity.................... oh yeah.

positivity positivity positivity

2006-11-18T15:09:00.000-05:00

new mantra: "positivity. positivity. positivity."

I've had the good fortune to have some great interactions the past few days. Compliments I need to take to heart, laughs I must remember, and conversations that ease my mind. It is up to me to filter the negativity out of my life, not sink to the toxic depths of some of the people around me (namely work-folk and insane people that come into the joint) and simply inhale goodness and exhale the negativity that has found itself into me lately. I don't like the thought of my physical cell bodies harboring an iota of negative energy through emotions and experiences. Fuck that noise, haha.

So in the name of self indulgence, I am listing a few things said to me over the past few days that I need to keep close as testament to my worthwhile-ness:

"You seem to have had a kick-ass interview."

"You look fantastic."

"Only best friends would do what you've done for me."

"You need to come work for my boss. They'll love you there."

"I was thinking about our relationship, and we really have a great friendship going."

"It was so great talking to you tonight, I'm really glad we ran into each other. We've never really had the chance to talk this much."

"There's my favorite girl."

So...to anyone that has thrown positivity my way, to this, I say thank you. I'm crossing my fingers and toes at the moment hoping for an opportunity to open up that I've been seeking entry into; let's hope it goes swell....

"

cornmeal and chicken

2006-11-17T02:24:00.000-05:00

One crappy shift at work

Check!

A bottle of "Sideshow Puppetmaster Syrah/Malbec" on coffee table

Check!

A plate full o' homemade cormeal battered chicken

Check!

A quarter cup of semisweet chocolate chips poured into homebody hands in lieu of proper dessert to compliment said chicken, such as: red velvet cake, ambrosia, oreo pie, or whatever other Southern delicacy I shoulda pulled from my roots and concocted

Check!
An early afternoon interview for REAL JOB that includes the oh-so-rare things known as BENEFITS, aka: actual respect for employees, as well as that elusive thing known as a INCOME ONE MAY SURVIVE ON

Check!

ok.......today better rock my socks, or I'm forcing okra down every single throat that heeds this post......

potatoes like the sky

2006-11-15T17:01:00.000-05:00

Well, I applied for three sales jobs today, hope I hear back from one...it would be l-o-v-e-l-y to not wait tables every friggin' night of the weel and have some semblence of a normal routine regarding hours and some such stuff...

I feel bad for avoiding everyone and everything the past 2 weeks. I have quite a bit rumbling through my head, so I've taken the oh-so-healthy route of seclusion.

On another random note: I saw the cutest purple potatoes at Whole Foods a week and a half ago, I plucked three from the earthy bin and awaited inspiration. Well, perusing the magazines last weekend while in one of my said seclusionary states, I saw the most darling potato-tarts with carmelized red onions in "Martha." Lemme say: when too lazy to write down the whole recipe, and just stick to the "think it had a bit of this and that with a dash of so-and-so" way of thought: things can turn out crap. Purple potatoes, when mixed with a bit of egg, herbs and red onions, take on a hue not dissimilar to that of a NYC skyline at 6pm in November: sooty, gray, and cold-looking. And those damn measurements so thoughtfully provided by the Martha crew? They must have been quite neccessary to facilitate a modicum of decent taste.

Gray potato tart, anyone?

tired.

2006-11-13T22:48:00.000-05:00

Sooooo.......feeling a little psychotic lately. I am sick of the negativity of those around me, sick of the complacency and lack of motivation. It's bringing me down. Waaaay down.

Speaking of down, I'm going to the hospital for tests in a few days to see if I'm harboring the whole cancer thing that is rampant on both sides of my family. Gotta love genetics. Blech. How many weird-freaky-stress-inducing maybe-medical-maladies can a girl go through before throwing in the towel, throwing out the anti-depressants and running into the wilderness in search of a shack with tar-paper insulation and boxes of oil paints?

I am so very, very tired.

salty chocolate

2006-11-11T03:11:00.000-05:00

vile: splashing your frosty bowl of Dove "Unconditional Chocolate" ice cream with an unintentional spray of fish marinade.

ouvre-vile? : eating it while pretending salty bits are some worldy, Viet addition your palate is going to acclimate to.....

flaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaax

2006-11-10T04:49:00.000-05:00

i want to slap my job as if an inconsolate lover. I want to slap and internally glee over the consistency and lack thereof.......makes no sense. Swordfish is a sporty fish....have flax-seed-fun, and remember me.

"I think you're just what I needed"

2006-11-09T16:24:00.000-05:00

Fabulous older man in a tent-like blouse extends his hand in greeting

"Why, you are just gorgeous! God what beautiful skin you have!"

startled me:

"Uh,oh, why thank you. I'm Liza."

Fabulous older man (that is starting to look quite familiar:

"I'm Joe. I just had to comment, I know skin. Sorry, I just had to comment."

Random friend of older man interjects as I try to continue my way down the street:

"This is Joe, Joe Blasco, he knows skin."

Lo and behold, one of the most established makeup men in film stopped my schleppy self after Starbucks and brightened my whole damn week.

Shallow?

Yes....

A welcomed compliment after the barage of ugly-girl comments I was on the receiving end of on Tuesday night*?

Hell yeah....

*drama drama sis-boom-ba.

hmmm........

2006-11-08T15:52:00.000-05:00

Showering today, faux-boyfriend waiting on the couch for lunch and gossiping about boys, washing the filth and pissed-offed-ness of last night down the drain; I came to a realization shared with a shout to the living (sleeping/eating) room:

"I am filling my emotional needs through physical acts."

It is a startling realization to know that whether drinking, eating (or crazy restricting phases,) sleeping, or straight-up-f*#%@$g, I am not regarding the emotional aspect of my life with too much regard or respect. How do I take the specific time to understand my true motivations and promise? How the hell do I do it?

I need to work through some issues instead of avoiding them through physicality:

Loss
Education
Career
Health
Anxiety

Now I need a plan.

newness

2006-11-06T22:45:00.000-05:00

I am wearing new pajamas and color-from-a-box. I just ate a chocolate Luna bar and am about to tuck into a not as healthy bottle of Heineken. My day off was spent reading a portion of the new Margaret Atwood book at Barnes and Noble, organic tea curled in palm and errands taken care of.

Schizo and the Sicko (me)

2006-11-06T00:59:00.000-05:00

Soooo....wake up this morning with a full fledged hacking, phlegmy, blood-red eye, crying cold: due at work. I show up after spending close to 30 minutes in the shower (an epic amount for me) lying prone with my head towards the drain trying to drain my own sinuses pseudo-neti-pot style and create some sort of semblence of a normal physical state for myself before showing up for work. I lasted an entire 16 minutes before I clocked out near tears due to general pain and the complete inability to speak to guests in a voice not sounding coagulated and infectious...I pitied myself today. Back at home, I slept for a few more hours during which I woke often sweating like a Republican evangelist in a gay whorehouse and forced my fever to break.

Then I headed to Starbucks after re-hydrating; ordered a soy peppermint mocha and proceeded to be cornered by what I assume was a paranoid pschizophrenic or a recent methamphetamine addict (as his intact teeth and lack of facial sores would atest to his near-innocence to such drugs...)

It's got to be the brown eyes, and librarian glasses. Or the fact that I smile too damn much at strangers and invite people to open up at whim.

Then I came home after I was certain the "pro-golfer drug informant on his way to Italy to get away from his gang-lords so he could meet a woman like you cause we all know he's too ugly for his own good and where is the front page of the paper because this issue was all written about me" was not following me home and into my own personal crazy life and proceeded to eat brie and green apples while continuing to hack up my right lung.

It's been a day. A one full of ick, at that....

awesome truth

2006-11-02T01:29:00.000-05:00

“The bad news, is that there are 816 days left in the reign of King George II of America. The good news? “When we wake up tomorrow morning, there will be one less day.” -Seymour Hersh to an audience in Montreal

Boring

2006-11-01T16:21:00.000-05:00

Airborne + one Tylenol PM + antioxident tea + claritan + homemade chicken rice and corn soup = Liza feeling almost normal. Yay! I ate some bread at work last night, and I felt like shit about an hour afterwards, I seriously need to go back to this whole anti-gluten thing, as I noticed a difference in only a few days of being back on it...so....my plan is to eat big meals here at home before going into work so as not to be tempted by extra sliders, sandwiches, chix, and the like and the almost-always-present 'family meals' that usually consist of a large quantity of some wheat-gluten derivative.

On that note, I just ate a lovely, delicious, juicy, well seasoned ground turkey patty and plan to shove the rest of this garlicky baby spinach in my maw very, very soon.

Oh what an interesting post! My eating habits! Oh my! More interesting posts to come...I swear.

*cough

2006-10-31T23:22:00.000-05:00

*cough *sniff *itch

I've got homemade chicken and rice soup on the stove and some tea in my tummy.

ick....why, oh, why? on the most fun of fun nights of the year....boooooooooo.

hot mess.....

2006-10-30T22:39:00.000-05:00

I want a pedicure and a good massage and maybe some sort of detox-seaweed-wrap. My hair needs to be cut as well...damn I'm a hot mess.

Trouble

2006-10-27T15:56:00.000-04:00

Ray Lamontagne.

Yeah......find me a man that will dedicate "Trouble" to me, and I would be a goner.

I baked cupcakes for my workmates today; Halloween Espresso-dark-choco w/ vanilla/cinammon/bittersweet ganache. I feel like I am suffering forever with a case of 'pent up domesticity' and no one but my 2 cats to suffer it upon. Thank goodness I still have the right mind to share sweets with folks instead of gorging on the sweet breads and cakes I can't help but bake in the season when the air is not too insufferable in which to switch on the stove. I have a quart and a half of butternut squash soup in the fridge, 2 dozen cupcakes cooling down on the sills, and a loaf of bread wrapped in the freezer. Someone find me a garden plot in which to till and a family with which to share it all. I am in need of it.

Sopa

2006-10-26T23:21:00.000-04:00

I have a pot of squash soup simmering down on the stove at the moment. When I am chopping, choosing and spooning at the stove, I think of Uncle Rob. I made this same soup out in Austin, for our "Thanksgiving" we had a few weeks ago. I glimpsed a bit of the old Uncle Rob that meal, a man who relished mealtime almost as most as a fresh tobacco smoke while sitting in his garden on a quiet Texas night. He guessed my secret ingredient and rolled his eyes heaven-ward (the sign that he approved.) Tonight, while this batch cooks down to sublime, I hold my eyes heaven-ward with a hello on my lips and a smile in mind's eye.

to bed i must be

2006-10-25T04:30:00.000-04:00

I'm feeling a little too complacent and bored lately. I think the familial upheavel and heartache of the last month coupled with random just-me personal things has left me drained, feeling strangely calm and way, way too passive for my own good. What time is it, fair readers? It is almost 4:30 in the wee hours of the morning, and due to a pre-work nap and a cup of coffee at 9pm, I am just starting to hit drowsy. Damn this lack of motivation towards life and general apathetic being. Ugh....

The crisper air is thankfully dropping tidbits of imagination into my head, the muggy-muggness that is a Floridian's weather report 10 months out of the year is chilling off and bringing with it a slighter sense of urgency.

I think I am going to give my laptop battery to a friend to hold for a week or so to see how that affects my ability to get shit done. too too too easy to sit here and rot my brain. Although I did spend about an hour tonight 'researching' the history of European workhouses where the paupers went to survive throughout the 18th and 19th centuries. Quite not as Dickensian a living as one might have originally perceived.

Ok....to bed! to bed!

Random Updates and More Self Involved Bullshit

2006-10-24T09:37:00.000-04:00

ok, this just struck me as funny...
***
I am now headed out to battle at the DMV, Cingular, OUC, and sundry other locales of irritation, after I finish this pot of coffee. Not to mention I need to make meeself look purty for the new license photo I'll be taking; after my snatched purse debacle, I hope to at least have a foxy new piece of state-issued ID to flaunt...
***
This crisp weather is begging for squash soup and hearty bread. I totally wanna learn how to bake real bread. Mmmmm...bread and soup and picinicking....This next week is gonna rock my socks. I'm going to be making my espresso-chocolate black widow cupcakes perhaps tommorrow to share with coworkers and make everyone gain weight like me....
***
I think I may achieve the formidable act of having not only a hilarious costume, but a slightly sexy one as well....
***
My period was early which sure as hell beats it being late...
***
I found the best wool peacoat at Overstock.com, and after bills are paid up, I'm spluring the grand 56 bucks on that bad-girl and gettin' myself my dream coat which is not only classic, but sassy as well...
***
Happy Birthday, Bastard. You're now officially "in" your 30's, not simply "30." Such great things await you as: you are almost double the age that most American teenagers lose their virginity; Baskin Robbins offers a different ice cream flavor for every year you've been wrecking havoc here on earth; on the periodic table your age is represented by Gallium which "has one of the longest liquid ranges of any metal and has a low vapour pressure even at high temperatures," this seems apropos to be representing you and your liquid ranges, I must say; and last but not least: you have something in common with these folks here. Let's just hope the similarity is not a girlish wish for a 65 year old white man with a raging addiction to Viagra.

The Game

2006-10-21T02:06:00.000-04:00

I just don't understand them, a single, solitary member of the populace known as: people of my romantic past. 'A' #2, not #1 or #3, took myself and two friends (one of his, one of mine) out to a fantastic lunch the other day and sat observantly to the side whilst the three others of us chatted and bantered as only (non) old friends can.

Tonight after work, where I played bad co-worker and advocated for the greater good of the restaurant and not the goal of certain employeess to tank themselves on the sly...(idiots)...'A' #2 came over for a glass of wine while the pot of soup still simmering on the stove was just begining its burbling of potential.

*Please note I am typing this alone in the early hours of the morning, a time that could previously have been spent creating false security and ideas of reunion with this 'A' before I found my head, self reliance, and spine.....

Tonight the two of us sat and chatted about the trials of the business, the trials of friendship, these niceties that pass for communication when two people who know so very much of each other are respectively participating in mental recognizance missions of memory regarding mutual experiences and past expectations.I just don't understand them, a single, solitary member of the populace known as: people of my romantic past. 'A' #2, not #1 or #3, took myself and two friends (one of his, one of mine) out to a fantastic lunch the other day and sat observantly to the side whilst the three others of us chatted and bantered as only (non) old friends can.

He loves me.

I know this by his laugh and look and openness, and it just bruises my heart knowing that he has realized it too late in a game where my heart called a foul so many innings ago.

Go Sox, babe.

love it

2006-10-20T02:02:00.000-04:00

ya'll know you love this

kicks

2006-10-19T02:12:00.000-04:00

"Don't judge a man until you've walked a mile in their shoes,
because by then, you're a mile away
not to mention: you've got a free pair of kicks."
- some young dude at Burton's

ahh...nice.

sums it up

2006-10-17T16:13:00.000-04:00

Which Trainspotting Character Are You?

paint.

2006-10-17T10:40:00.000-04:00

Well....it's been a trying few weeks. Trying and Tiring. Things are looking up because I say they are. What with lost luggage, passive aggressive family members, a total lack of funds, and well, death, I'm ready for some happy autumnal picnic-in-the-park times. A basket of fruit, some soy latte in a huge thermos, a bowl or three of soup sloshing about, some chocolate and I'll be ready to go.

It's funny, really, how some people that I didn't realize could be such encouraging forms of gentle support come from the woodwork during times of duress, and the folks 'closest' to me seem scared or too self-involved to give a rat's ass about the people around them. I surely hope that I am never one of those. Please tell me, fair readers, if I ever am...

I have two new canvases in the car, blank prospects that shall stay tucked and safe in my back seat until I can afford proper new paint. I know if I brought them up here to my musty cottage in the sky before in possession of the proper materials, they would be covered in cheap decor-project arcrylic and become a sore misery to the eye before long.

One lovely memory of the past week:

Sitting in the dew of Central Park, on the "great lawn," triple shot latte in hand, head thrown back listening to schoolkids on break while taking in the profile of so many gracious buildings. A sureally-cerulean blue sky above me, a pal sitting a few paces away who gave me the shoulder to cry on that I have so desperately needed the past week or three, and a bucket full of hope at my feet just waiting to be found and foraged.

It is going to be ok. And my hands will be painting again shortly.

Many years of blessings.

2006-10-06T00:35:00.000-04:00

Dear Uncle Rob,
Thank you so much for the time you spent on earth bringing laughter, encouraging faith and helping those not only around you, but throughout the world as well. You taught me to perservere when my world seemed to be falling apart and taught me to rejoice and be thankful of the blessings we are all given on a daily basis. Your unwavering pride and trust in me has forever given me a model on which to base my view of family and faith in life. Please sleep in peace and one day we will again share in chocolate milkshakes and our own brand of humor. I love you.

Bossa Nova and a Wrecked Car.

2006-09-28T02:43:00.001-04:00

Well, in 26 hours I will be waking at my mom's house in Land O Lakes, wiping the crust of three hours sleep from my eyes (as I work until 10 tomorrow night, then must pack and head onto the road) while looking forward to boarding a plane. This plane is traveling West, my friends, into the land of the Alamo (or quite a few kilometers away, as Austin is a bit of a hop from San. Antone') and one very outspoken cowboy. I will be visiting my uncle, for realistically what may be the last time I can joke with him while he has the lucid banter to outwit me, and for this I must tell a story.

It was about a year and a half ago, maybe closer to two, that Uncle Rob came to visit my mother in her new home. I took a day trip over, which lasted into a night spent wishing the couch was just a tad bit wider and comfier to my naturally splaying self. Mom was cooking one of her famous meals inevitably starting with some sort of nibbles that one would always deem too extravagant to serve oneself, but in the company of two sweatpant clad and khaki shorted family members, totally appropriate.

Straight after dinner, Uncle Rob asked where the nearest place to drop off one hour film was. Well, Mom informed him it was up at the Walfart a few miles away. Uncle Rob slew me the keys to her new baby of a Volkswagen (such a cute sporty car for such a adorable sassy Mom) and off we were.

We were heading home straight away. Honest, we were. We had absolutely no intention of stopping at the Irish pub down the way and passing the time of photo delevopment with a few bottles of beer and perhaps a single shot of whiskey split between us.

Uncle Rob is 6 feet tall (and in some cases of my mythological imagination, a towering 7 foot 3) and alas, I am a taller-than-average-yet-by-no-means-Amazon 5 foot 6 inches. With years of practice and outweighing me by a good 90 pounds, I preceded to match him beer for beer until a whole 3 were down my gullet in the span of 1.25 hours.

*Yes, I know it's not an insane amount, but for goodness sakes I'm a lightweight.

Uncle took the keys after photos were picked up and laughs were had regarding the story Mom would soon be told. Her goose would soon be as cooked as her deliciouso seafood crepes.

*Please note that I, your blog mistress, held her head high in quite a few theater productions in her youthful time. I have acted my way not only out of mediocre relationships, speeding tickets, and work shifts, but also a few paper bags as well.

That said, the scene was set.

Enter Liza stage right, aka Mom's front door. She tosses the keys on the dining room table while followed through the door quickly by Uncle Rob. Wrist to eyes, Liza sobs and flees to the guest bath.

Mom about to be punked: What? What's going on? Liza? Is everything ok?!

Uncle Rob: Maybe you should ask the officer that she got the ticket from.

Mom ATBP: What? What happened?! Was it a speeding ticket?

Uncle Rob: No, not exactly. You see, Liz, when we were waiting for the photos, we uh, we went and had a few beers at that Irish place by the store.

Mom ATBP: Oh my God. Oh my God.

Uncle Rob: No no no Liz. She didn't get a DUI

Fervent whimpering from the background bathroom

Mom ATBP: Honey, it's ok! What happened?!

Uncle Rob: Well, your car.... shuffling of feet and glance towards the garage ensues

Mom ATBP: Oh my God, Robert, what in the hell happened.

Uncle Rob: We could drive the car home....it's just...

Mom ATBP runs to the front door yanking it open in search of her newest edition, aka the Cabriolet of Madame Sassy-Pants and shouts,

"So help me God, Robert, if you are lying I will strangle you!"

As Mom ATBP tears into her driveway on foot searching for a mangled vehicle, I creep from the bathroom, Uncle Rob reaches the front door and quiet as can be turns the lock. I proceed to the living room stereo, turn on some Bossa Nove Jazz and dance like I am walking on the water of the glorious, charming, hilarious gene pool I am a part of while Mom laughs herself to tears looking in.

And for this I am flying, and so very grateful I have the chance.

Umm...I need to get out more.

2006-09-28T01:18:00.000-04:00

Meet my two new crushes:

this guy

not to mention this other guy

I think Sawyer is winning at the moment, as the naughty dreams that have been running through my subconcious are totally involving more beach (j'adore) versus the Special Victim's Unit precint (j'deteste) in which my older-man Chris would be present in.

Perchance Liza needs a date and would benefit from less Lost and SVU downloading while perchance socializing outside of the world of her work, ya think?

Need squash soup

2006-09-25T21:07:00.000-04:00

Ah...the joys of textbooks. How I love the fact that I spent over 400 bucks for 3 classes worth of textbooks a mere 4 months ago and while trying to sell them back today I was offered a whopping, mind-numbing, heart-pounding 2 bucks. Yes, two dollars. I put the books back in the car and headed to Barnes and Noble to asuage my disgruntled and headachey self with a cup of coffee and some magazine indulgence. I think a pot of butternut squash soup and a side of banana bread is in order while I try to reorganize my armoire and shelves in an attempt to recharge and regain some semblence of calm.

elastic neuter bags and the determined htibbidy and "Not readyu

2006-09-23T05:32:00.000-04:00

Am I truly not a vested maximum? Apparant to the non-concern I am nothing but a vigilent sentinel of the easy-going-ways.

Do you know what I say to the 'easy going' good time-gal friends?

FUCK OFF AND FUCK YOU!!!!!! I am worth so much more than a social afterthought+. I love, love, love you bits to pieces. all, but really? REALLY!?!?!?!

find me a partner happy with my lavk of prestense and physical concern;

I'll show you a woman with too many choices and bad 20 yr old reflections....its grand and good and honest and simply pushing me out off it.

smoke-like and dark

2006-09-20T15:47:00.000-04:00

There is a break in my peripheral vision, a ghostly sway back and forth that tickles and shivers my spine.
Snapping my head and clamping onto the twitter that I cannot read the energy of.

Smoke-like and dark,
Calm haunting of orange dusk
The scent of Autumn and earth
wafting through my mind.

I will be flying soon.
Less than two weeks for less than one.

It's time to jump up and clean. Scrub floors and walls and windows and brains.
Tuck away and cull the clutter that is threatening my sense of process
and beg for a bout of clarity, certainty and semblence of structure.

My gut is quaking and my head is breaking.

ps

2006-09-17T04:02:00.000-04:00

ps... I just found a bigg-ass iridescent green sequin sticking to my remote control....interesting very very interesting.

what have the kitties been up to in my absence....

Utopian Urges.

2006-09-17T03:04:00.000-04:00

I don't know what to think, where to go, as these thoughts and possible situations race through my head as I smile, nod, smile, speak, nod, laugh, frown, laugh and nod. I am not so much worried so much as curious. Curious and possibly ready for a big f*#&$ing change. Change and progress are inevitable characteristics of the human life, somtimes I feel like stagnation and apathy are the only constants in my life full of new jobs, new apartments, new friends, new goals, new guys, new gals, new faces and folks to do the nods to on the street.

I was brotherly hugged today by someone in passing walking through the neighborhood. Someone I would not think thought of me as the type brotherly huggable, or well, physical barrier-cross-ed possible. It's strange: I made a commitment to start to try to connect to people more, to attempt a real commitment to the people that do indeed enrich my life. Attachment disorder, blah blah blah... Turns out my suspicions were correct. Files of the early years perused in the archive of my mind and the family agree. My brother knows now why I have acted out and pushed away while clinging to odd memories time and again; why I've been bruised by the slightest smack of ego, as that is what I am borne of. I am wishing to have people to hold close and gain the esteem necessary to take the world by storm, as I once thought I **could.

I am taking myself off Wellbutrin for the most part. I'll resume for pre-menstrual phases (whenever in the hell they show up...) and strip the caul from my open-mouthed screaming cry of the life that I need to live.

* on a humorous note: I gave the 2 cat-loves-of-my-nurturing-life a glorious dose of catnip tonight, as it's been a few months, and seeing as I am winding down with half a klonopin and a few Becks Dark, I thought they deserved the same luscious lethargy that will now shoo me into a un-fittful slumber and the promise of dreams rampant with green fields, blue skies, babbling brooks, chocolate cake, a home, a love, a garden, a studio in which to paint and write of my created family and all of the accoutrements that truly would be the make-up of my utopia.

I need not fame or fortune. I only search for the stability of my own hard work and the support and nurturance of love.

(comments and encouragements are welcome as always.)

Love to anyone that reads this post, whether random surfer or stumbler, or the people that know me face-to-face.

The bayou

2006-09-15T16:53:00.000-04:00

Please dear lord, someone make my whiney self feel better. Lungs full o' cotton and a nose full o' mud, it is the bayou of bacteria here in the crotchety land o' Liza. I am a veritable swamp of mucosi and dry fields of hack.

Ick....

2006-09-14T14:17:00.000-04:00

Well, the niggling little allergy attack of yesterday has in fact fermented into a left side-sinus and full throat attack obviously not borne of pollen and kitty dander. I need to open the restaurant in a few hours, I feel like crap, a fever is shaking on the horizon, and I just wanna whine (and eat chicken matzo ball soup while watching LOST, preferably in the company of someone that gives foot rubs and won't try to make out with me.) Boo-hoo-hoo. What a fun post to (nearly) welcome me back to my blog after my self-imposed absence.

Speaking of absences...hmmmm.....

Anyway, I am hungry and only in the mood for chicken soup, nearly black coffee, a clean apartment and cold, hard cash. I think I can handle the coffee, the apartment will be cleaned as I can't stand a messy place when feeling ill (perhaps that is the reason my apartment is truly spic n span only twice a year--ha) but the chicken soup and cold hard cash will most likely elude me until I get to work and beg for one of the chef's to whip me up something. Would they? Oh goodness, maybe a chocolate creme brullee would suit me even better. Cold-ish, creamy, dark chocolate pudding-like goodness. Ah, I shiver at the thought.

Heavens I am happy I didn't end up at Burton's after work with the kids. Beers + inevitable cigarettes would = Liza on a deathbed this morning.

Well, at least my hair still looks f-ing smokin'.

Hair

2006-09-13T17:26:00.000-04:00

I just got my hairs cut and colored. That is about the highlight of my day. Yup. And damn if it does is not look good.

Labor Day Dinner.

2006-09-05T21:38:00.000-04:00

Lordy I am tired. I'm not quite sure why, as I am the proud recepient of a full 9 hours of sleep gifted to me in the icy-chilled guest room of my Mama's house, a guest room with a nightstand basket of granola bars and bottled water. Last evening was spent curled on my Mom's bed with a dvd playing while my brother cat cheering on FSU in the livintg room a few feet away. The three of us shared dinner, something that warmed my heart as I realized it was the first time in probably 5 years that three of us sat around a table and ate. It was the first time in probably 8 that the mood of the meal was not tempered by the melencholy and malaise of a family life that struggled to retain normalcy and stability in the midst of the drama and uncertainty that flavored so many bites of my childhood. The meal was sweet and full of an ease I am so relieved to know exists in the nucleas of my family.

1 to 2

2006-09-02T23:02:00.000-04:00

Interesting day....it was as if I was thrust back a year or two in the span of 6 hours. Ran into Alex at Starbucks where we sat and drank the same damn iced soy lattes (type, not actual liquid, haha) that we were ordering together a year ago: before shit hit the fan. It was nice, and unexpected. We talked about how it is a welcome change to be friends with an ex, where laughter isn't out of nervousness or pity and you can reminisce sans melancholy.

Then he bought me pound cake and it was at that moment that I realized the 'throwing Aex's glass of whiskey into the wall at BBQ Bar incident' did no permanent damage, and that in fact: "Girl, that was simply badass. I couldn't be pissed, only impressed that you did that and walked off like a rockstar."

Another time-warping event; Dave and I had what seems to be our quarterly chat regarding poop, weird sex practices, girls, guys, and my lack of hair styling. Funny how those chats seem to mark the quarters. Spring, Summer, Fall, and the one previously that led to a gorging of pizza and ice cream until 6 in the morning whilst watching scary movies that involve: poop, weird sex practices, girls, guys, and not my lack of hairstyling. I think we have a theme in our interaction.

All in all, a boosting kind of day. Now, if only I hadn't worn those shorty-shorts last night and somehow led my co-workers to think it was ok to drop by my apartment unannounced to 'hang-out.' WTF is that all about? I am an obviously private person about my space, both physical and mental (when not pouring a large portion of it out on the internet) and I was raised to never show up sans invite.

Enough ranting. I need to catch some winks and go to work for god-awful brunch tommorow in the hope that I will miraculously make 150 bucks and I can pay my rent. Sweet.

short-ass shorts and remembering.....

2006-09-02T05:49:00.000-04:00

This is a problem.
dawning light and a heavy head=
up too late with the company
of formidable barley, hops and rye.
fuzzy for the friends grant it all,
my short-skirted self
the aphrodisiac of too many
ladies and genties in waiting.

seriously though, folks:
I'm gonna be dead, smooshed, grapple-crapped soon enough.

you've got my 4 inches of khaki and a round ass of pilsner as soon as this dream analtsis and ciggie are done.

*dreams dreams: more on the random marriage, tornado-ing grandmother, water slide that bit my shin in a cave, Taffy in my purr-ready arms, baby grand piano sheltering my 10 year old skull from screams and flying wicker hear.....When time and justice allow.

ps: I just had the memory of Bev. Harris and I sneakingout of her sex segregated dorm facility to end up 2 hours away at Gainseville and in possession of some really strong drugs. I made out with a gay boy I'd known since 6th grade and his six foot four boyfriend tried to kick my lily white ass while I just tried to hug him. Ah....to be 18 again.....

2006-09-01T17:30:00.000-04:00

I am changing. I'm gettin' me some new paints and stretchers whence my rent and bills are paid up.

Sabatoge et Regret pour moi, de nouveau

2006-08-30T16:33:00.000-04:00

So....yeah....je suis le sabetoge de mon vie d'amour. Rendre des choses difficiles au lieu d' 'aller avec lui 'est ma voie. Ainsi, 'A', si vous vous inquiétez, je suis désolé pour des choses ivres fâchées d'écriture. Peut-être il est simplement plus facile que je crée le drame traitent alors la réalité de s'inquiéter de quelqu'un et sachant qu'ils ne peuvent pas me donner ce que je pense que je peux vouloir, par la suite. J'adore les temps d'amusement, mais le sentiment de s'obliger à quelqu'un qui part juste me frustre à aucune extrémité. Je souhaite juste que nous ayons parlé comme nous quand vous étiez en Californie. Telles étaient des périodes douces et en expectative.

If you thought the "paradoxical catalyst" post turned you off: read the one below!

2006-08-29T04:08:00.000-04:00

If you thought the "paradoxical catalyst" post turned you off: read the one below! Cause, I may not be the girl anyone could possibly fall for, but damn if I ain't the girl whose writing won't be reason for satan sainthood!

Voo-doo Hoo-doo

2006-08-27T23:52:00.000-04:00

Well, the disqualification still stands, so does a lingering sense of dejection that I am attempting to soothe with job applications and hustling at the restaurant. A small silver lining is that the grade change is going to make it all the easier to petition for readmission for Spring semester. At this point though, with being so frigging old anyway, and with the set-backs that have jumped out from every doorway on the avenue that is my education, I'm seeing to get me a 'reeeel job' and work on the final credits at night or online. F-this full-time bullshit with the 22 year olds (not that there aren't some wonderful young friends in my life, or anything.)

I "threw my back out" at work today. Nice. Right before I had my sidework to do, and I felt like one of the schmucks that passes off a hangover as their third bout of the flu in as many weeks in order to leave early and hoist their crap responsibilities on myself and the other 2 employees that actually know what the fuck they're doing.

So, I bought myself some Walgreen's brand 'back pain relief' tonight, and I'm hoping that these little loopy pills combined with some yoga will set me straight by tommorrow afternoon. If not, it's off to search for a cheap chiropractor and some voodoo.

Let's hope this doesn't all end in chicken bones and the pubic hair of flaxen-haired virgins.

1

2006-08-24T23:49:00.000-04:00

red wine and smokes
my vices not including hope
blazing my memory towards fog

i stay in

with taut shoulders
limbs weak and waiting
for vices un-disclosed
red wine and smokes.

I'm sooooo not a busgirl.

2006-08-23T16:27:00.000-04:00

oh heavens. "It's a good day, for shining your shoes. Oh, it's a good day for losing the blues......."

My C- was turned into a B by some miracle of miraculous giving-me-faith-in-some-sort-of-grade-god miracles. Unless I am somehow lucky enough to also find 30 million on my dashboard tommorrow morning, it doesn't look like I'll be in this semester, but this means:

I don't believe I will have lost my financial aid status
I will be back in school for Spring (which puts me back into the timeframe of graduation that I orginally thought)
My GPA is now at a totally acceptable level
The gray and manic-ey-depressive cloud that has been hovering about me for the last week and a half is gone gone GONE.

And above all: I wanna go dance and shake my ass and remember that I am not the most unfortunate gal in the universe, and perhaps this just happened as a kick-in-the-get-the-fuck-outta-complacency-pants and start living a bit more, Miss Liza.

Ok....time to clean and shower and shave and primp and priss for work and give the news that, "Sorry, but although the offer to transfer to the pricey restaurant as a BUSGIRL (!?!) is appealing; what with my management experience and extensive hospitality industry knowledge being put to the utmost of use in such a position; my self-esteem has already taken a beating as of late, and sweeping up under the chairs of 200 dolla a plate diners is really not gonna be in my best interests. So, thanks for the offer, but unless you're moving me into management here, (as the reason the position was offered was that it is such a prestigious location, I am the best server in the current location, not to mention the potential to be a waitress again in a year is too good to pass up) I think I'll take my chances and the tenuous grip I have on whatever healthy mental image of myself remains and stay right here. THANK-YOU-VERY-MUCH...."

Fun, fun....