Your Girlfriend is Ugly

Back at it.

I just sent the following email to my mother:

Lisa GRADIE/USA/LVMH_P&C

Hi Mum,

Just checking in to say HI and see how your day is going. My train is at 4:30 so I'll leave here around 3:30.

I think I'm going to re join on match.com. I got a surge of boredom. Can't tell if it's vacation withdrawal or because I realized last night that the condoms in my dresser drawer are going to expire.

*sigh*

I enjoy keeping my parents on their toes. About five minutes later my work phone started screaming at me.

Hmmm...my sushi had just arrived. Pick up. Go to voicemail. Pick up. Go to voicemail. Pick up...

"This is Lisa."

"You ah crazy ya know that."

"Hi Mum!"

"Leeeesah. What am I gonna do with you?" chuckle, chuckle

"Hehehehe."

"I read your email and then stahted laughing so hahd! Then my phone rang and I had to stifle my laughta!"

"Hehe."

"How's the Screwball?" (she means Plus One)

"Oh she's fine. B&I." (Busy and Important)

"Ok mom. I have to get going. I'm going to go eat lunch."

"Ok sweetie. Love you."

"Love you too."

05/20/2008 12:41 PM

The Donna gets her palm read

When I was home this past Sunday visiting the rental units I asked my mother in passing what she was up to this week.

"Well, Toosday I'm going to get my palms read."

"You are?!!?"

"Ya. Rose is convinced that she's going to die at 62 so she wants to see what's in store for her."

"Oh. Awesome. You can't take those things to seriously though mom!"

"I know Leeee-SAH!"

Last night I talked to The Donna to do a post-mortem on her palm reading.

"So. What did she say??"

"Well she talked about Stevie a lot and said that I'm a strong person."

"Uh huh. What did she say about me?"

"Nothing."

*pfft*

"You should have asked her when you were going to have grandchildren."

"Why?"

"Just because! So Plus One and I can know when we'll be expecting!"

"Do you want to know when you're having kids or when you're getting laid again Leee-SAH?"

"Mmmmmmmmmmmaybe a little bit of both...??" 

Fun time with the family.

I've been hibernating at my parents house since Saturday afternoon. Don't get offended if I didn't call you to hang out. Girl needed to recharge her batteries and besides I didn't want my whereabouts leaking and having the Norton abode flooded with Paparazzi. That wouldn't be fair to my mom and dad.

I had it on good authority that I wouldn't be doing a single thing this weekend except shop, go for a walk with my mom and watch football. And that's exactly what I did. (P.S. HELL YEAH! GO PATS!!! SUPERBOWL XLII HERE WE COME!!! *WOOT*)

My mom informed me that my Aunt Nancy would be joining us. She's my dad's sister and we have a grand time together. She lights up when my sister is in the room and mostly she and I have witty banter back and forth. That and she tells me I talk too much. But we have a good time.

Fresh from our walk, my dad ran out to get batteries and my mom, Aunt Nancy and myself sat around the table drinking coffee and munching on The Donna's homemade pound cake.

Somehow we ended up on the topic of bathing suits and summer, (odd topic I know, but I had to steer the conversation away from how I apparently took the wrong professional path in life with not going into teaching) which lead to the topic of how I hate my arms. I sat at the table babbling on about how much I can't stand how my arms look while nibbling on my mothers pound cake.

My aunt spoke, "You have that Gradie gene."

I looked up at her thinking that she was about to unleash a secret upon me. Something like, "When you turn 30 you'll wake up and all of the extra pounds will magically disappear," or "Don't worry about it. None of the women in the Gradie family gain weight when they're pregnant." You know a nice tid-bit to look forward to.

"Really? And what's the Gradie gene?"

"Fat."

Uh-huh.

I stared at her with my obviously fat face while my undoubtedly fat mouth hung agape.

"Yeah, fat legs, fat ankles..."

"Um...I DO NOT have fat ankles. And the polite thing to say is 'thunder thighs.' "

When is the next family gathering?

To eHarmony or to not eHarmony. That is the blog.

My mother wishes the best for me. Obviously. I'm her baby and she only wants to see me happy. She especially wants to see me happy with a man. Which lead to the following conversation today:

*ring* *ring*

"This is Donna."

"Hi mom."

"Hi Sweetie."

"I just got the my contacts. Thanks for sending them."

"Oh I'm glad you got them! I was worried that they'd go to the wrong address."

"Nope. All set."

"How's your day going?"

"Fine. Busy. Preparing for New York."

"Uh-huh," then The Donna's voice dropped to a dull whisper, "Did you join eHahmony?" (eHar-mony)

Oh here we go. For whatever reason my mother thinks that eHarmony will solve all of my singledom issues. They must run a LOT of commercials during Num3ers, Cold Case and Grey's Anatomy because she is constantly asking if I've joined yet. And the funny thing is, last Friday I did. I filled out the profile thing and answered their deluge of questions ("Do you prefer to place blame on your partner when things go wrong?" or "Are there times when you just cannot deal?") I just couldn't bring myself to joining. Something inside of me told me to stop and not click "ACCEPT". I really think that I cannot go through another dating site where all of the guys are complete idiots.

"No Mom. I haven't yet."

"WHY NOT?!"

"Mom-"

"You know I'll pay for it."

"Mom, it's $200 to join for a year."

"Ok. I'll pay the bill."

"Mom-"

"How do you know what's out there until you try?"

"Mom. I've been dating for a while. I've seen what's out there. It's not much."

"Come on Lee-SAH. Where's your sense of adventure?"

"It died."

The conversation ended with my mother hemming and hawing about now I absolutely MUST join eHah-mony. I told her we'd talk about it later.

Make no mistake about it. I am looking for a suitable guy to date. And part of me says "Why the hell not" but the other part of me would rather have a root canal without Novocaine than sit through yet another bad date with a guy who could potentially whip out his free gas card.

Thoughts?

The breakdown of a weekend with my family

So I love my family. I love hanging out with them. We have fun. We go to the beach or watch the game (football or baseball depending on the season). There is always an abundance of baked goods because my mother will get up at 5 a.m. to cook the various pound cake or banana bread. It's just fun. My friends always give me hell in the summer because every weekend I head to the Cape. I just like being down there. It's relaxing and I don't have to baby-sit anyone.

So this weekend was no different. And since everyone thinks that my parents are the cutest things since sliced bread I figured I'd give a run down of the weekend and you can live vicariously through me.

Friday:

We all assemble down at the house. The menu is home made pizza courtesy of Shana. Deee-lish. Around 8:30 (on the dot) Beast retires to bed and it's me, mom, Shana and Dana (friend. adopted daughter if you will) left to meander around the house. I ask Shana how many reps of sit ups it will take for me to get some semblance of a flat-issssssssh stomach.

At this she pops up and immediately tries to teach me how to do Pilates. Have you guys ever done Pilates? It's effing hard. I get stressed out, yell at Shana that she is giving me advanced pilates to do and Dana comes over to do some Yoga. (The Donna, meanwhile is hanging out on the recliner, reading the paper oblivious...that is until we drag her over for some tree posing!!)

Tree posing it with The Donna and Shana. Which rolled into some down ward facing dog...which is a helluva lot harder than it looks...

Oh merrrrrrrrr......not easy. You really gotta stick that ass up in the air.

We completed the evening of Yoga trying to do those funky pretzel things with our legs.

I couldn't deal and settled for Indian style....er...or Native American style...

In any case you still can't bounce a quarter off of my stomach but I'm thinking of taking up yoga just so the instructor can throw me around. It's pretty intense how they shift you around! I don't mind being tossed about like some rag doll.

Yoga followed by bed.

Saturday:

Shana, mom and Dana decide to go for a walk before Dana has to leave. The time is about 9:30 a.m. I was just rolling out of bed so I decided to pass and plop down in front of the TV for a hearty helping of Talk Soup. (Loooooooooooooove me some Joel....)

But not before Shana could whisper to me to "help dad dig the hole for his flag pole." She definitely got the Irish guilt instilled in her when she was in the womb.

So my dad has been psyched to get his new flag pole up. He was rooting around in the back yard and I asked him repeatedly if he needed help.

"Nope."

Oookay. So I continued to watch the marathon of Real World Sydney (OMG so trashy. I want someone to punch KellyAnne in the mug.)

The Irish guilt got the best of me so I sauntered out and long story short helped my dad get the pole "plumb" and assisted with the water while he mixed quick set cement. All done with minimal swearing I might add. Maybe a "son of a bitch" here and there but that's it.

The rest of the girls got back just in time for the flag raising ceremony. We sang the Star Spangled Banner as dad raised the flag. Then we said the Pledge of Allegiance as it flitted in the breeze. It was a fitting ceremony really. Very tasteful.

Since it was about 50 degrees on Saturday we decided to leave our dad alone to tool around at his own pace and me, Mom and Shana shopped. The excursion started off OK. Until we got into Home Goods and I got into a kerfuffle with The Donna about how I'd like to buy my own comforter for my bed down the Cape because I can't deal with the poly/cotton blend that is on there now.

"No Leee-SAH."

"Mom, I don't understand. I'll put it under the bed spread that is there now and you'll never know."

"I. DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON'T wanT iT!"

"Oh my God. This makes no sense."

"I'm leaving!" And The Donna turned on her heel and peaced out of the store. My sister and I just looked at each other. And continued our shopping. Shana finally coaxed her to come back in. (we did have they keys after all). It was dicey there for a few minutes but everyone relaxed and we continued our shopping trip all in one piece.

Night ended with a nice dinner, just the four of us. Dad falling asleep by 8p.m. but not before yelling at me to put some clothes on. (I was complaining that I was cold while wearing my sleep shorts and a tank top. it's not like I bring flannel to the Cape in August!!)

Sunday:

My cousins Pam and Charles and their three boys, Ben, Matt and Joe along with Aunt Nancy are slated to come for the day to go to the beach, have lunch and then head back.

We all settle into our spots. Matt is lying stomach down on the towel when he announces that his Mr. Happy is very happy. I think they heard us laughing in Provincetown.

We were informed by Charles that this is a regular occurrence and that when they watch Deal or No Deal, Matt announces that the Deal or No Deal girls make his Mr. Happy ecstatic.

I don't need to specify what Mr. Happy is I hope.

When the after glow of Mr. Happy dissipates, Matt and Ben go to get ice cream. They come back and Matt announces that he got the "two ball screw-ball ice cream. And now he has four balls!!!"

I should probably tell you all that Matt just turned eight.

Dear Charles,

You said you wanted to be in the blog. Since we didn't talk about your Mr. Happy, I hope it's OK for your son to have a starring roll.

Love,
Your cousin

My sister the do-gooder.

**Shana, myself and LK were hanging around in my living room last night getting a little punchy when my sister starts to tell us a story about her near brush with a parking ticket.

"Yeah so guys listen to this story! I had to go to Lens Crafters on Boylston Street today and I found this awesome spot right in front of the store. Well actually I had to drive around for a half hour to wait until the Commercial Vehicle spots all freed up. (I just have to interject here. My sister has zero patience with many things. If I take too long to speak she gets frustrated. But she'll tool around in her car dodging traffic and annoying pedestrians on Newbury Street for a half an hour. Mind blowing.) I finally found an awesome spot. I put the car in park, got out and looked at the signs. I was in the clear and I thought to myself 'Sweet!' But then I looked over and there was a meter maid two cars down from me ticketing. And I thought to myself, 'Shit!'

So I approached the meter maid and said to her, 'Is my car OK?' The meter maid looked at me and said, 'Nope. You're in a tow zone. Fifty five dollah ticket'  So I looked around and there were no signs! But two cars behind me had tickets. So I said to her, 'Um. Could you help me understand the signs a little better? Because it doesn't say that I'm in a tow zone.'

(Insert myself and LK howling with laugher)

So listen to this. Then the meter maid holds up a her index finger and goes, 'Hold on a second. Lemme check somethin'...She walked away, checked something out and then comes back and goes, 'Ya know, ya right. Ya cahs fine. (sigh) Ya see my supahvisah down there? (my sister looked back to see a mean looking guy skulking a few cars back) He's been ridin' my ass to ticket people.'

'Ok. So I'm all set? My cars fine?'

'Ya. Yah all set.'

So then I watched as the meter maid took the tickets off of the two cars she had just ticked!"

"OMG! So Shana. You saved two people a fifty-five dollar ticket!" exclaimed LK

"Yeah....I guess I did"

**My sister has been begging me to star in a blog since I started YGIU.com nearly a year ago. There you go Shana! You're a regular Mother Teresa.

Back in the day photos.

So a few weekends ago I was home visiting the parental units and happened upon a large plastic bin full of old school photographs that my parents found when they were cleaning out a closet. Suffice it to say that I nearly passed out from laughter when looking at them. A few things I realized:

1. My sister looks exactly the same as she did when she was 3 years old. She makes the same faces still and continues to pose.
2. I look like I'm on a five second delay with everything. I look either really confused or just super pissed.

But the photos are great and if you want some insight to what my sister and I looked like as small small children please bring your attention to the left hand side of the page and the photo album that says "Back in the day".

Enjoy :)

Psychobabble.

So I was chilling with the rental units last weekend. I had to get out of the city and decompress and just hang. Plus my parents are like super funny and I love hanging out with them.

I noticed when I came home and pimped around upstairs for some dinner that there were two white bakery boxes on the counter. I go to my mom, "Did dad go to Guarino's?" Guarino's is this awesome Italian bakery in Norwood where we sometimes get pastries for family events and such.

"Yup. Daddy had a doctor's appointment over there so he got me some cookies."

I mean, how cute is that?

So the weekend progressed nicely and my mom and I pimped around all day on Saturday shopping. On the way back in the car she and I were talking about food and The Donna goes, "It's all about behaviah (behavior) modifacation (modification) Lee-SAH."

I looked sideways at my mom and said, "Oh...ok Freud."

"It's true. I mean daddy bought me all of those cookies and I have a refridgerata (refrigerator) drawer full of fruit. What do you think I'm going to eat??"

"True. True."

"I mean....YA FATHA SHOULD HAVE NEVAH BOUGHT THOSE COOKIES!!!!"

I was completely taken aback and kind of nervous. It had appeared that my mother was losing it. 

"Mom! Don't get mad at dad! He did it because he knows you like them!"

"I know! And I know he did it because he loves me but now I'll eat them!"

"Ok...well since you know all about the behavior modification, then you can fight the urge."

"Oh. Oh no. That won't happen."

I think they call that a self-fulfilling prophecy...?

Later at dinner I was retelling the story. Everyone was laughing about it and as the laugher died down my father simply said, "Well Donna, why don't you try putting the cookies in the fruit drawer and the fruit on the counter where the cookies are and see what happens."

I think if that were to happen we'd have on our hands, much fruit of the rotten persuasion. 

My mom is a first class pimp.

My mother came to visit me at work today. She has been retired for two weeks an is like freaking out about it. She is on the hunt to find something to keep her busy already. I told her, I said, "Ma, it's been like a day and you've been working all your life. Get a manicure. Go see a movie. Go shopping. Just chill the eff out!" My words of wisdom are not shining down to The Donna.

So she was in the city this morning for an interview and decided to stop by and say HI to me at work. I love my mom and totally have a blast when she and I play together so I welcomed the break and took us to Starbucks down the road. I was dying for my post-holiday winter drink: grande extra hot non-fat vanilla latte. Scrumpsh.

She and I sat down and immediately a deluge of construction workers entered the establishment. Now it's no secret that I love me a guy who is a little on the dirty side, a guy who can build things and a guy who is like a mountain man. So a construction worker (that makes a very good living) is, on paper, I guess my ideal man. We sat by the window and laughed and chatted and talked about life and left.

While walking back to the car my mom gestured to one of the new buildings across from the Starbucks and goes, "What's going in there Lee-SAH?"

I looked over, "I have no idea. But I hope someplace where hot men will be working. Actually they don't have to be hot. Just men. Single and straight."

The Donna laughed. "Lee-SAH, You really need to get out more."

"Yeah mom. I know. I'm working on it."

"What you have to do to meet guys is go to Red Sox games!"

"What?!"

"Yeah. Buy tickets and go to the games. Guys go to Red Sox games!"

I couldn't believe what my mom was suggesting. "Mom, you do realize that most guys go to the games to get completely hammered and/or watch the actual game...?" Which is what I would do too. Well not get completely hammered but I could be sitting next to a potential husband and he could start chatting me up and I'd be like, "Um buddy, can you wait until they get this out. Thanks."

"Hmmm...yeah...you're right. And with your luck you'd end up sitting next to a family that has twelve children."

My mother began to spout out other places where I should indeed start to look for husbands:

• Mom's words of advice: "Staht walking around the men's depahtment at Macy's! I always shop there and see guys wandering around lookin' for stuff. You'd find a guy!!"
• My rebuttal: "Mom, the guy wandering around probably has a girlfriend that is wandering around in shoes, cosmetics, or clothing. Nary do you find a single straight man shopping around by himself for clothing. I know this because I have many guy friends, who are straight who I am always assisting in the shopping department."
  
• Mom's words of advice: "Walk around construction sites! Didn't you see those guys in the Stahbucks?! They were so handsome."
• My rebuttal: "Walk around and do what mom? Give out brownies? I don't necessarily want to meet a guy when wearing a hard hat."
• Mom's words of advice: "You need to hang around at like State Street. Go to a nice upscale lounge. Even if the drinks are $8.00 you should still go!"
• My rebuttal: "I wish the drinks these days were $8.00!!"
• Mom's words of advice: "You should start to volunteer somewhere. Like at Big Brothahs and Big Sistahs. Guys who volunteer there are compassionate and family oriented. You could meet a nice guy."
• I didn't really have a rebuttal for this because I actually think this is a good idea and am currently looking for volunteer opportunities where nice family oriented, compassionate males will be found.

Other advice my mother had to dispel: "If you're dating a guy for two years and he hasn't proposed to you yet, you say good bye, give a good cry and move on! I swear Lee-SAH if you're with a guy for two years...hell even a year an a half and still no ring, I'm knocking on your door and I'll be there with a moving truck."

Dear potential male suiters who could be reading this,

My mom is very sweet and means well. She actually does not meddle in my love life at all. We just shoot the proverbial shit about it and she says things like this to get me riled up. She has never once shown up on any of my boyfriend's doorsteps with a U-Haul. Please don't be afraid.

Kind regards,
Lisa

Big doings on November 28th.

Lots going on today.

On this day 37 years ago my parents got married. (!!!)

The Donna and The Esteban totes tied the knot and they've been going strong ever since. I would like to say that I had a part in that. You know, providing laughter and entertainment for 25 of those 37 years.

Love you mom and dad! And Mom, for your 40th we're throwing a party. So I don't want to hear any more, "No pahties Leeee-SAH! I don'T wanT to have to clean-AH!" We'll rent a place. OK?

You guys are so cute!! Love you!!! xoxoxoxxo

In other 11/28 news, it's Rose's birthday today. Rose (aka HLP) turns the big 2-5 today. Now I've known Rose since we were like....um really young and we used to haaaaate each other. The first memory I have of her is going to soccer camp with her and being like SO pissed because my mother used to watch her after practice and we were like forced to hang out with each other. Oh trust me, the feelings were mutual.

But that's all behind us now! So happy birthday HLP! xoxo!

Me and Rose. Hween 2006 as Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen. I mean obvi....!

* * *

An addendum: JSutt just brought up a good point. Also on this day my boss actually complimented my shirt. It has to be said that my boss never really compliments anything I wear. A "compliment" for her is to say, "Lisa...your hair is....iiinteresting today." Or "Lisa...you're wearing kind of a lot of blush today." Things like that where you can't really tell if she's saying it's a good or a bad thing.

So yes, she complimented my shirt. My $7.50 shirt from Delia's that has skulls and hearts on it. I mean..I would have preferred that she compliment something that a twelve year old wouldn't wear but dude, I'll take what I can get!