Hello Panama!

22 Thursday Mar 2012

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I love Panama! Let’s move here!

Steve says that I say that for most every place we visit. I wanted to move to Cozumel, Mexico. And then I said that for Belize. Also said it for the Okanagan Valley in BC. But this time I mean it! Retiring here is very awesome for those who want a very cosmopolitan city, warm weather, inexpensive living and, well, loads of birds. We like the birds, natch.

Here’s the view from our hotel in Panama City

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Our first day we hired a man for a tour of Panama City. Fernando first took us to see the famous canal and gave a good oral history along the way in his comfortable air conditioned Montera SUV.

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We heard that the LDS Temple was nearby so we asked Fernando to take us there. In fact, it’s really close to the canal locks, so it wasn’t too far and Fernando had heard of it.

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Our next stop was the Amador Causeway–a playground for multi millionaires. That is, there are loads of yachts parked, some four star restaurants and spectacular views of the city. We took a few photos and had some pretty awesome gelato before we hopped back into Fernando’s air conditioned car to escape the humidity. (Hey, it’s tough when you had just left a big snow storm the day before.)

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Next, Fernando took us to San Felipe, the old Spanish Colonial city of Panama, which was built in the 1500s. We basically just drove through, as traffic was crazy. It’s undergoing a bit of an upgrade with a lot of renovating going on. As Fernando put it, “first it was the wealthy who lived here, them the middle class and then the poor. Now they want the poor to move out and they’re making it better for the rich.”

I guess they’re going full circle.

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Next poor Fernando fought through lunchtime, traffic to drop us off at the Allbrook airport where we would catch our AirPanama flight to Bocas del Toro.

That flight to Bocas del Toro was a bit of a curiosity. We landed on the mainland and we were supposed to be going to Isla Colon. For a minute I thought we had gotten on the wrong plane. But they then assured us that this was just a stop where a few passengers got off and then a few got on. And then up in the air we went again for an 8 minute flight to the island. Crazy.

Bocas del Toro reminds me a little bit of Ambergis Caye in Belize, but with fewer great restaurants and fewer nice hotels. A van took us to our lodging further away from the main town. It’s actually quite nice, as the lodging around the main town seems like its 80% hostels.

This morning I had one of my “impatient traveler” moments when there wasn’t any scrambled eggs in sight at the breakfast buffet. I have to remind myself that this isn’t the Marriott. This is Latin America and really a third world country when you’ve left Panama City. Things don’t roll they same way they do, say, in Hawaii.

So, I allowed myself to scowl for 30 minutes And then cheered up once we caught our taxi to town I search of a dive company.

Okay, here’s a hilarious thing about Panama: your cab you call isn’t just your cab. He can pick up other passengers who put out their hand. That happened to us twice today.

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After our two-tank dive (only $56 for a two-tank dive!) we grabbed a snack and caught our cab (and other passengers) back to our hotel where we hung out at the pool for awhile. We eventually lingered back to our room, showered and then headed to dinner at a little grill over the water. Burgers, ceviche with plantain chips and a Coca-Cola Light for me.

Speaking of, it’s now lights out. I’m tired.

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I typically blog on this site once a week. While in Panama you may see more frequent updates. Oh, and bear with me. I didn't bring my laptop and instead I'm using my iPad. It goes a little slower this way. Plus there will be typos, which no doubt you have noticed.

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Topping the Hair

18 Sunday Mar 2012

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That headline is really just trying to be punny.

The post about my hair seemed to get everyone into a tither. But I warn you: It’s tough to top that one.

Speaking of topping, because I’ve struggled with my hair, I turned to hats. And bandanas. Anything to remove hair out of the picture, and out of my face.

I’ve always had a fascination with hats. My earliest memory of hats is this awful picture from my fifth birthday.

Mom says she made these “hats” by following instructions out of a magazine. I’m suspect about what magazine she was consulting. I showed this photo to a friend a number of years ago and she asked, “Why are you wearing your underwear on your head?” (sigh) I didn’t know any different. It was a “hat,” I was having a party, and I thought it was normal. (My mom and I have laughed about it since and I promised her I wouldn’t write a book ala “Mommy Dearest,” in exchange for her to never attempt at making me a party hat again. I loved that tambourine, though.)

In high school I enrolled in a marketing class and one of our projects was to create a “store” in a mall and we had to create a marketing plan. My store was a hat store. Of course I did no market research that would have told me no one was buying hats in 1982. Unless you were Devo, of course.

My most expensive hat is this Helen Kaminski hat given to me as a thank-you gift after being a keynote speaker at a previous employer’s Worldwide Sales Meeting circa 1998. I’m so fond of this hat and still keep it in its box and bring it out for special occasions.

This next hat I actually made for one of the Gatsby Summer Afternoon events I attended in San Francisco Bay Area. I regularly attended this event sponsored by the San Francisco Art Deco Society. While making it I was trying to stretch it and didn’t realize it really is one ribbon all sewn together and it fell apart in my hands. I frantically sewed it all back together and you would never know by this picture it was previously in shreds. I’m so proud of this hat.

I don’t know about this next hat. I think I found myself without my hat at Bryce Canyon National Park and so I got this at the gift shop. I look like a dork. Totally doesn’t fit over all my hair.

And to shield the sun when birding, here are my adventure hats. Okay, just a regular hat I got at REI and a baseball cap.

At Lake Louise, Banff

At Waterton Lake National Park in Alberta

At Tikal in Guatemala

This next hat is my go-to winter weather hat. Thank you Lands End for making the perfect polar fleece hat!

At Grand Canyon in December

San Francisco

Just outside Calgary, Alberta

At Zion National Park only hours before I broke my leg. Little did I know what was about to happen.

Here’s another favorite hat. I bought this at a little shop in Carmel, California. It’s velvet and I always get compliments on it.

When traveling I always take a stack of bandanas too. I learned early on, especially when visiting tropical humid climates, it’s better to not have to worry about the hair. They are a complete lifesaver.

Believe it or not, this is the photo we slipped in with our wedding invitations. I was told I was brave. I just didn't want a "posed" photo with matching outfits. We were having so much fun here.

We’re leaving for Panama very soon. Look forward to lots and lots of pictures with me in bandanas. It’s how I roll these days.

Most Outstanding Achievement in Hair Over Four Decades award goes to me

04 Sunday Mar 2012

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Hair.

It’s troubled me since I was a child. I’ve always envied lovely, beautiful, trouble-free hair beginning with my mom’s fight with my hair every morning before kindergarten as she vigorously brushed through my “rat’s nest” (her words), to my youthful longing to have Marcia Brady hair, followed by the desire for Dorothy Hamill hair to the coveting of the crème de la crème of all hair–Farrah Fawcett.

Growing up, no one had dark curly hair unless they were on Soul Train.

Still to this day, my hair troubles me. So, last week I chopped off my hair. I went from this:

To this:

I got lots of interesting reactions from the change. Most people exclaimed, “I love it!” Then there were those who said, “Don’t take this wrong, but it’s really slimming.” I’m okay with that, I think. (Wait, are you calling me fat?) It’s better than the opposite, I suppose. The most interesting reaction was when someone came into my office, closed the door and said in a delicate, quiet voice, “Your hair looks great. Is everything okay?”

I laughed and assured her, “Oh for Pete’s sake. No. I’m not going through a divorce,” because that’s what brooding, downtrodden women do when breaking up. I continued, “Steve and I are still madly in love, though he’s out of town and hasn’t seen this yet.”

(I imagined this for the husband airport pickup: Stand next to all the limo drivers who hold signs for their passengers and I’d have my own sign with “Don’t worry sweetie, it will grow back.“)

So, as I was looking through my iPhoto catalogue I noticed that I’d been through a lot of different hairstyles over the years and felt some were deserving of awards. Here I present the Most Outstanding Achievement in Hair Over Four Decades awards (cue drum roll):

Best Pat Nixon Look at Age 3
What a perfectly coiffed three-year-old!
Most Outstanding Skin Smoothing Technique
In order to make sure that my hair stayed in place all day, my mom put me in ponytails that were so tight, I would never have to face a Botox treatment later in life.

The Best Achievement in Layers
Layering the hair certainly helped with the rat’s nest issue,
but it mostly just helped me achieve frizzy hair faster.
(Sorry about the tiny photo. This was my Senior photo from my high school yearbook.)
The “Why Am I Not Dating? Award” goes to…
Just days before I went away to college I chopped off my hair. Bad call.
This hair explains why I didn’t date at all my Freshman year.
That and the unfortunate argyle sweater I’m wearing in this photo.

Best Big Hair Ev-uh!
Thank goodness for big hair girl bands. (Heart! You girls are my heroes!) And shoulder pads. Frankly, the whole 80s! And guess what, I didn’t have to tease my hair to get it to be big and poofy. It just did it all by itself. I went from growing up envying others to having girls envy me! This photo is from my Senior year in college.
As you can see, I let it grow out since my Freshman year.

Best Use of a Barrette Award
The barrette became my best friend. I pretty much had this same hairstyle during all of my 20s, once I moved to California. It was easy peasy to take care of.
Shampoo, run gobs of product through hair with fingers, put in barrette and
go out the door. I didn’t even own a hair dryer.
(And no, going outside with wet hair does not give you a cold.)
Most Likely To Succeed Award
This is my “professional” ‘do that I started sporting once I decided to get serious about my career in my 30s. This photo is a little deceptive. It looks a little bit coiffed, but it’s not. I still maintained my same ritual as above–shampoo, run fingers through with product
and out the door. Still no hair dryer needed.

Best Achievement in Luring a Man
This is me in Scotland. I had just met the man who would two years later be my husband. If ever there was a time that I needed the best hair on the planet this was the time and it certainly delivered. Look at how perfectly those curls rest on my head!
Oh shame to have scorned them when I was younger.
Steve (the man) kept referring to them as springs. (sigh)

Your Hair Is Taking Over the Planet award
This, my friends, is my biggest nightmare.
After I met Steve, we dated long distance for two years, visiting each other in five different countries during that time. This was in Calgary, AB the day after a big snow storm. But the day was warm and the snow melted/evaporated so quickly the humidity in the air created this crazy mess. My hair is like a Chia Pet. It gets bigger as the day goes when moisture is added. It’s a wonder Steve still married me after this.

Best Wedding Day Dream Hair
Bless her heart–that Annie at Sieren Salon made my hair look fantastic on my wedding day. I wish this could be my hair every day.
Every girl should have awesome hair on her wedding day.

Extreme Makeover — Hair Edition
I can’t tell you how excited I was when I learned about the Brazilian Blowout. I did this for almost a year and I loved it. Too bad it’s really, really bad for hair stylists. Frankly, it’s not safe. It’s got formaldehyde in it, much to everyone’s chagrin. And the FDA ruled it not safe. But I’m waiting for a product to come out that’s much safer and when it does, I’m there in the chair again!
Here’s a version of the straightened look, but using a curling iron to give me a few sassy waves. Hey! It’s almost like Farrah’s hair!

And that, my friends, is Lisa’s hair over the years.

A piece of Baklava, a silver ring and the cliffs of Santorini

26 Sunday Feb 2012

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It took some convincing to get my mother to get excited about picking a Mediterranean cruise that stopped in Greece. She just didn’t seem excited about Greece as much as she was about the ports in Italy.

“But think of all the food!” I said, using my most persuasive voice as we were planning over the phone. “The olives! The feta!”

“Eh,” she said. “I don’t like any of those.”

“Oh well,” I said. “We’ll find something there you like.”

Six months later we found ourselves in the Mediterranean and on the little island of Santorini for just a day of exploring.

We disembarked our ship, the Celebrity Millennium to find ourselves looking up at the whitewashed homes that were hanging on the cliffs of Santorini.

Oia, Santorini

We boarded our tour bus, which took us to the top to the village of Oia with its spectacular views, charming houses, winding narrow streets, cobblestone walkways and domed churches. I had the feeling I always get when I’m clear across the ocean in a place I’d only previously seen in movies or on television: Am I really here or am I just having the most awesome dream?

Please don’t wake me up.

We were free to wander the village for several hours and we soon were lured into a jewelry shop by a man who noticed my traveling bag with Salt Lake 2002 embroidered on it–my favorite piece of gear I was given as a contract worker for the Salt Lake Winter Games. He was chatting me up, asking about the Olympic Games and before we knew it, we were in his shop looking at jewelry.

I love the blue gate.

I had my heart set on a ring. Not sure why. I was not a ring-wearing kind of gal. But I was 39 and my chances of marriage seemed far reaching at this point in my life. So why not get myself a ring? The man who lured me in the store was on the other side of a long glass display, bringing out one ring after another for me to try and putting on his best charming self to close the deal.

But darn it, my fingers are huge. I mean, like linebacker huge. I can never find rings that fit my sausage-like digits. After trying on the third ring, my disappointment really began to wear me down, and I told my mother, “Let’s just go. There’s nothing here that will work for me.”

I'd be willing to live in a small space if I lived here.

And then the man reached across the glass display and took my hands in his and looked into my eyes and said very seriously, “Here in Greece we are easy going. You must learn to be easy going.”

I just stood there. I was nonplussed by his sudden open counsel to me.

Easy going. That’s so not me. There’s not one part of me that’s easy going.

But I capitulated. “Okay,” I said. “I will be more easy going.”

He then brought out a ring and said, “This will be perfect.” I really liked it. It was a simple silver band that curved like a stretched out “s” up at the top with three tiny diamonds. But it wasn’t perfect as the man promised. Again, I was like Cinderella’s step sister who couldn’t get that stinkin’ shoe on. That ring just wouldn’t fit. This time I feigned “easy going” so to avoid another lecture.

“No worries,” he said. “We will resize it to fit you.”

Oia, Santorini

The man brought out his keychain of round metal circles where I slipped my finger into one that fit and then he said to come back in two hours.

“Remember!” He shouted to us as we walked out on to the cobble streets. “Easy going!”

So off we went to explore. After a hearty and delicious lunch, which I’m proud to say my mother enjoyed (no olives or feta), we found a pastry shop that was hugging the end of the cliff, overlooking the Aegean Sea. Mom tried her first baklava and I had crepes. The sugary sweetness, the breeze, the view and my new-found conviction of being more “easy going” made me just want to not go back on the cruise ship. I wanted to just stay in Oia and live out the rest of my life. Why couldn’t I do that? I could learn to be “easy going” here in a heart beat. I could be an artist. Or a musician. Or maybe a writer and live in one of the white cave homes overlooking the sea. My life would be simple and uncomplicated, I imagined.

Baklava and crepes do that to you, I think.

Mom and me having baklava and crepes in Santorini

This is what "easy going" looks like.

It was time to go back to the jewelry store and we followed the cobblestone sidewalk back to where our afternoon began. Our man was waiting outside the door of his store either looking for his next victim or waiting for us. Or perhaps both. We went to the same glass display and he slid the ring effortlessly on my finger and any memory of sausage fingers faded.

We left the store and wandered around the village a little more before taking the tram down the mountain to where the bus picked us up to return us to our ship.

To this day, I still look at this ring and am reminded of my afternoon in Oia and when a Greek man taught me about the need to be “easy going.”  And I’m pretty sure that trip changed my mom’s opinion of Greece because if there’s baklava on the menu she always orders it.

No worries on top of the world at Mauna Kea

23 Thursday Feb 2012

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Nothing turns my mood sour faster than when I don’t have control over a situation. I totally get that I need to change that about myself.

Working on it. Promise.

But I pride myself in being such an exceptional planner that if I can’t plan everything I get quite grumpy. Including when I can’t control sunsets. A couple of years ago Steve and I took a trip to Hawaii where we spent a couple of days on Oahu and then spent the rest of the trip on the Big Island scuba diving (natch) and exploring what island has to offer, including trying to chase what few endemic birds are left in Hawaii.

Every guide book raved about Mauna Kea, the volcano on the Big Island, and even recommended taking a guided tour to the summit because it was a steep drive and tour operators provided all the winter gear. Because who really packs a ski parka and gloves when they travel to Hawaii? Not me.

Mauna Kea is huge at 33,500 feet, making it significantly taller than Mount Everest. (That’s measuring the volcano at its base deep into the ocean. So, kind of cheating.) At the summit there are the Mauna Kea Observatories, which are used for scientific research. You’d probably recognize them, as they’re often shown on TV and in film.

So up to Mauna Kea we went, sitting with about eight other strangers in an oversized tour van, strapped in with our seat belts. The trip was a couple of hours up and the seat I was in seemed to only have a thin layer of cushion separating my back end from the springs.

And then there was the weather. Clouds were hovering all over Kona that day and I spent the day a little sour, wondering if we just spent a lot of money on this tour and weren’t going to see a thing. No sunset. No stars. No valley. It will be a bust. I was sure of it.

Thank goodness my husband is a saint and didn’t push me out onto the road what with my unpleasant mood. He kept assuring me, “Oh I’m sure we’ll get a sunset. All this fog will burn off. Don’t worry about something you can’t control.”

Hey, my whole life is designed to be about worrying about things I can’t control. I’m just sort of wired that way.

I worry about if we’ll get in a wreck on the way to the airport. I worry every time I cross a border into another country and think “What if they won’t let me in?” (There’s no reason to think that, but I’ve seen TV shows about that sort of thing. And somehow some girl ends up in a Thai women’s prison where for food they fend for rice that is shoveled off from the back of a dirty pick up.) I worry about not making curtain at the theatre. I worry every time the cat is out late that a predator got her. I worry that… I’ll stop here. This could go on all night.

This little journey  to the top of Mauna Kea taught me a lot.  For starters, it taught me that I should listen to my husband more. He’s right. I can’t worry about things I can’t control. But even more, I learned that I should hope for the best and enjoy every moment that is part of the journey rather than stew about what horrible thing might happen. Imagine what I missed by worrying–I missed meeting new people in our van, I missed seeing a lot that was right before me. I missed a big part of this trip.

Because in the end, there were no worries at the top.

PS: Steve, I’m sorry I was grumpy that day!

Sunset at Mauna Kea

Here are more photos from our Mauna Kea trip.  Click on one and it will take you to a slideshow to view each.

From hating to loving Valentine’s Day.

14 Tuesday Feb 2012

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Yes. It makes a big difference if you have someone to love for Valentine’s Day. For me, I used to hate the day.  I’d wear black. But I was single then and really had no hope to ever spend Valentine’s Day with anyone.

But today I’m wearing red and I woke my husband up by playing “Valentine” by Martina McBride and Jim Brickman. I made coconut creme brûlée last night (which we’ll be eating tonight) and Steve and I will be making dinner together this evening–Tacos!  Yes, tacos.  That’s because it’s the only thing we can cook together in the kitchen and I won’t get all crazy on him when he tries to “improvise.”  You can improvise tacos.  I’m okay with that. They’re fun and who’s not happy when they make tacos?

I also love this photo.

Meerkats (Though I want to hum that tune "Muskrat Love.")

It reminds me of Steve and I.  I shot this at the zoo in Sydney Australia last year.  Steve and I are meerkats.  (Except we’re much more faithful than meerkats and we don’t have all the drama meerkats have.)  Okay, maybe we’re not meerkats.  But they’re cute and I like to think we’re that cute too.

I know, you’re rolling your eyes or sticking your finger in your mouth and making that gagging noise. But I’m not going to apologize for it.  There are too many horrible things going on in this world right now and I can’t help it if I just want to cling on to a little lovely dovey moment.

Plus, I can’t wait for the tacos tonight.

Sherry and Mushroom Chicken Scaloppine

29 Sunday Jan 2012

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Sherry and Mushroom Chicken Scaloppine

As I’m writing this post my mouth is watering. This dish for the elitist in you was found from the pages of Sunset magazine and is perfect for this time of year and my husband devoured it when I made it.  The sauce is like putting on exquisite jewelry with the little black dress you’ve been bored with. Voila! A new you!

Same here with this chicken. Just when you were tiring of the same ol’ same ol’ this lovely girl will change your mind and make you wish you could eat this every day.  But don’t do it. Save it for Sunday dinners or special occasions. Sure she’s easy to make, but she’s not one of those loose girls you gossiped about in high school. She’s really more high brow than that and she’s just been misunderstood all this time.

Or that’s what she wants you to think. (wink)

PREP AND COOK TIME: About 20 minutes

MAKES: 4 servings

Basic chicken scaloppine (you can find it here)

2 tsp. olive oil

6 oz. portobello mushrooms or similar

2 Tbs. minced shallots

1/2 tsp. dried thyme

1/2 cup dry sherry

1/4 cup fat-skimmed chicken broth (I use no-added-sodium chicken broth)

2 Tbs. whipping cream

1 Tbs. chopped parsley

Salt and pepper to taste

  1. Keep basic chicken scaloppine warm in a 200-degree oven.
  2. Add olive oil, mushrooms, shallots, and thyme to pan used to cook chicken (don’t wash the pan) and stir often over high heat until mushrooms are browned, 4 to 5 minutes. Spoon over chicken.
  3. Add sherry, chicken broth, and cream to pain; stir until mixture is boiling. Boil, stirring occasionally, until juices are slightly reduced, 1 to 1 1/2 minutes. Sprinkle with parsley and salt and pepper to taste.

Per serving: 349 calories; 28% (99 cal) from fat; 39 G protein, 11 G fat (2.8 G sat); 16 G carbs (1.1 G fiber); 105 MG sodium; 91 MG cholesterol

A letter to my nieces

21 Saturday Jan 2012

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Dear Nieces,

It’s not a surprise that I have something to say.  I always have something to say. But sadly, I don’t’ have any daughters of my own to pass on words of wisdom and I wanted to pass along to you my list of twenty things to help you be your best in life:

  1. Use eye cream. I wish someone had told me that when I was in my twenties.  So if you’re in your twenties now or once you turn twenty, make it a priority. You’ll thank me when you’re forty.
  2. Always write thank-you notes. I’m big on thank-you notes. You can do this as soon as you can write your name. Sure, email is nice, but a nice card or stationery is always special.

    Me and my red shoes at age 3

  3. Own a pair of red shoes.  This is a must no matter how old you are.  I had a pair of red shoes when I was 3 and it’s stuck with me ever since.
  4. Go to school. And keep going and going. Take classes to learn new things to make you a more interesting person. School always makes you a better person.
  5. Always smile! Learn this while you’re young.  When you go to a new school, smile! When you meet new boys, smile! When you go on a job interview, smile! When you smile it makes you more approachable and people are attracted to people who smile. Plus, when you smile it makes you a happier person.
  6. Don’t be a victim. I decided not to be a victim some time ago.  I once felt pretty picked on and my life was just sad–or so it seemed. At that time I was in my early 30s and one day wrote an email to my childhood piano teacher who I had become friends with and thought I was a little bit funny and acerbic in the email. But it apparently came across as bitter.  This wonderful person sent back to me in the mail a typed letter kindly upbraiding me about my attitude.  Ever since that day I changed my thinking and changed my life forever.
  7. Always carry an emory board with you.  My grandpa Davis taught me this.  Genius advice!
  8. Go abroad. I typically don’t have regrets, but the one regret I do have is that I didn’t study abroad when I was in college.  I love to travel now and I do quite a bit of it, but how wonderful it would have been if I had spent a semester in Italy or England and fully immersed myself in another culture. Remember, the world is bigger than where you are right now.
  9. Don’t waste time. Don’t get sucked in to all the technology around you. (Gaming, Facebook, etc.) Enough said.
  10. Wear a high SPF in the sun.  Like the eye cream, you’ll thank me later.
  11. Be kind to your parents. When I was in junior high my uncle came to visit our family and I gave up my room to him while I slept on the couch. He was visiting for about a week and I don’t recall exactly what happened but apparently I must have been talking back to my parents during the time of his visit. After he had left and I moved back into my room I noticed a handwritten note that he had left for me, counseling me to be kinder to my parents. I was ashamed, of course, but I respected my uncle and his advice and after that point I didn’t talk back to my parents again.
  12. Learn to give hugs.  I’m not a “huggy” person but it seems as though there are gobs of people out there who like to hug.  When I went to college it seemed all the girls in the dorm liked to hug, my roommates included.  I’m not good at it even now.  But I don’t duck or run away anymore when “huggy” people start to approach me with a hug.  It’s still kind of weird to me.  (Just know that I’m working on this too.)
  13. Quit eating processed foods. Eat real food!  Too many chronic illnesses today seemed to be the result of years and years of processed food.  When you get to be old and fortysomething you’ll wish you had been eating fruits and vegetables all your life.
  14. Be gracious.  Say, “thank you,” and “please,” and always think that people have good intentions before you think they have bad intentions.  Trust me, you will be happier.  (See #6 above, “Don’t be a victim.”)
  15. Learn how to spell and learn how to write well.  I’m afraid all this texting and emailing has made us all very lazy writers. If you can be a great writer and communicator it will open up doors for you.
  16. Go see an Opera.  Come on, I really mean it.  At least once in your life you should go see an opera so your spine can tingle during the show-stopping aria.
  17. Learn how to make a béchamel sauce. My mother (or was it Dad?) taught me how to make this.  Essentially, it’s a white sauce that’s a base for so many things.  If you can master this (and it’s easy!) it will get you out of a pickle numerous times down the road.
  18. Be on time.  For crying out loud, you want to be on time. Being on time makes you reliable.
  19. Buy a Mac, not a PC. You’ll thank me later.
  20. Be brave. Do something bold every day. Get out of your comfort zone and be willing to make mistakes.

Well, that’s my advice for all of you sweet nieces. We’re far away from each other but I hope that the lessons I’ve learned can be useful to you. Lastly, have fun in life and make it your best life ever.

Love, Aunt Lisa

I’ve opened up Pandora’s Box

15 Sunday Jan 2012

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I like new jewelry, natch. Especially because I’m not in the mood to be buying new clothes these days since the post-accident weight gain. Jewelry is simple and elegant and always puts a smile on my face (especially the kind that comes in a little Tiffany blue box with a white satin ribbon tied into a bow). And I can gain five pounds and the jewelry still fits. (Rings, on the other hand don’t play nice in the sandbox when I retain water. Phfft!)

But husband doesn’t see the value in jewelry. (sigh)

He feels the same way about my Jimmy Choo shoes, or any shoes for that matter unless it’s a good pair of hiking boots, which he takes great interest in as though he were buying me a space suit that I’d need for, say walking on the moon. He wants to make sure that it’s exactly what I need for every condition I could face hiking. And well, we know what kinds of conditions I end up finding myself in when hiking.

So, while in Roatan, Honduras over the holidays, after a day of diving/snorkeling (Steve dove, but I couldn’t because my ears were plugged up from a cold, so I snorkeled), we were heading back to the cruise ship, passing all the duty-free stores, when I saw the Pandora store.

An example of a Pandora bracelet (from Google images)

AND IT WAS ALL DUTY FREE!

So that meant I could go in and buy me a little something, right? AND it would be inexpensive, of course. (Snicker. I knew better than that.)

I left Steve outside with a poorly made Honduran gelato (I know, that doesn’t make sense: Honduran gelato) while I entered the doors of Pandora.

Stupid me. I let the Pandora sales people put the silver chain around my wrist and we began building my bracelet. By the time it was about 1/4 filled I stopped the two Pandora sales people and said what I never say to a sales person, “Uh, how much is this?”

I’m not going to tell you what they told me, but I’ll tell you this much: I had them shave off about $60 worth of charms/beads and ended up walking out of the store with my bracelet.

I thought I was in the clear, figuring that Steve wouldn’t ask me how much I spent, but all of a sudden the receipt fell out of my hands and the breeze carried it off. Gallant Steve chased it down and then I thought, “crap.”

Yep, he looked at the receipt and then looked at me and I had to walk the Walk of Shame back to the cruise ship as he muttered something about not being able to eat for a month.

“But you got an ice cream,” I told him. “It’s kind of even now, right?”

How to set New Year’s resolutions that stick. (Or how I finally found my husband.)

04 Wednesday Jan 2012

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It was the holiday season six years ago and I found myself 39 and single. I actually didn’t find it a problem being single, but for the first time I felt an acute sense of loneliness. I had spent that Christmas alone and it was as though someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over my head to wake me up. And just like that I suddenly had the immense desire to be married.

Yes, me. The same person who had a great network of single girlfriends, who had been successful in her career, who traveled a great deal, and to be quite honest, liked having yellow walls in her home and a tiffany-blue colored guest room–all without having to manage complaints from a man who might find the walls a little too girlie for his tastes.

So essentially, that year I embarked on a very strange New Year’s resolution: To get married. Coincidentally at the same time I had the opportunity to hear a lecture by Bob Greene–Oprah’s trainer. My own trainer gave me a free ticket to the lecture and I was looking forward to hearing from Greene all about how I could lose weight, be healthier and make my workouts better.

When I arrived at the lecture I, along with all the other attendees, was handed a pad of paper and a little golf pencil. Greene came out to lots of cheers from the mostly-women audience (I’m not going to lie–he’s quite handsome) and he explained that his lecture was going to be a little different than what we probably expected.

Fearing that he was going to make a pitch for some health supplement I was surprised when he asked us to draw a circle on the piece of paper and make it into a pie with eight sections like this :

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Next, he asked us to write into each section things that are important to us:

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For each of the areas he then asked us to reflect on them and rate them a plus (+) or a minus (-). For instance, if you wanted to lose weight or get into better shape, your health category would probably get a minus. If you are comfortable with your financial situation perhaps it would get a plus. This is what mine looked like:

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Then he asked us to circle the one or even two with a minus that we wanted to work on. Again, this is what mine looked like:

Click picture to enlarge

Greene went on to explain that he does this exercise with all his clients before training with them. Of course, he would get puzzled looks (as he likely did from many in the audience that evening), but he said that this process was always life changing for his clients. The way this works is, once you’ve picked the area you want to focus on and have your goal identified, every day you must do something to help reach that goal. So let’s say it’s weight loss. Maybe tomorrow my one thing that I do is read an article on weight loss. And the next day maybe it’s deciding not to have dessert with dinner when eating out. He promised us that if we changed one thing in our life everyday to help reach that goal that we would indeed reach it. In fact, he said that he had clients who worked on two sections of the pie and in a year they didn’t even recognize their lives.

I so wanted to not recognize my life.

To say that I left the lecture inspired is an understatement. I had already come to the realization that I didn’t want to be alone any more and I was just handed a gift by Bob Greene—I now had the tools to help me achieve my goal.

I first had to change my attitude. I wasn’t against marriage at all, but I had spent that last 10 years or so being okay without marriage. In fact, I probably spent the previous 10 years just trying to not get hurt or disappointed that it was just easier not to want marriage at all.

Books about marriage—positive books—replaced my copies of The New Yorker and Entertainment Weekly on my nightstand. I also started talking to my married friends more about their marriages and what made it work for them. Let’s face it, there’s a lot out there—most of it entertaining—that focus on when things go awry in a marriage. Arguing mates on sitcoms stir up laughter, and we become obsessed with actors’ marriages falling to pieces before our eyes. Like a dieter throwing out sugary foods from my pantry I had to rid my life of destructive narratives on marriage.

I also let everyone know about my change in course regarding marriage. Each of my single girlfriends, ranging from mid-30s to early 50s were always hopeful about marriage and were thrilled that I finally was on board with the idea. I even joined a matchmaking service. It was a bit of a bust, except for the 3-hour interview where I was forced to look at my list of wants and needs in a companion. The company (now defunct) was a bit of a joke—they were never able to really find anyone who was close to being compatible with me, but the lengthy interview process forced me to break away from a lot of my thinking that was holding me back, and enable me to carve down my list to what I needed.

One day, as part of my do-something-different-every-day strategy I finally registered for an online dating service—It was only a month after the Bob Greene lecture and I figured this would be an easy way to keep up the do-something-every-day ritual required on the Bob Greene plan. It’s simple: log on every night and answer emails from guys.

Five days after I registered, Stephen found me online and sent me a message.

Six weeks later I flew over to Scotland to meet him.

For the next two years we were in a long-distance dating relationship and all the preparation I started when I began the pie exercise was paying off.

Then two years from the date we met—two years and four months after I started my resolution—we were married.

A New Year’s Resolution led to this.

There is no doubt in my mind that Bob Greene’s pie exercise changed my life. The whole process changed my thinking so I was actually ready to achieve my goal. Sure, finding the right companion requires some chance, some serendipity, and the free will of the other person, but it’s not so much about controlling the situation to design it how you want it–for me it was preparing myself to allow something to happen, so I could be ready for it.

I’ve used the pie exercise several times in my life and have actually used it with people who have worked for me for career development. It’s an excellent tool for guidance in one’s life. My pie section titles change from time to time and the pluses sometimes turn into minuses and the minuses sometimes become pluses.

So, if you’re really serious about changing your life and working on your New Year’s Resolutions, give the pie method a shot. You just might change your life so much you won’t recognize it in a year.