Thanks to Meghan from Wilkes Barre YMCA for coming on the air with us this morning! We’re helping to spread the word about their Operation Backpack program, which provides school supplies for underprivileged kids in our area. If you wanna help out:
***Donate a new backpack with school supplies between August 1 & August 25 and pay only $20 for you first month at the WB YMCA. Existing members can donate and receive $20 off their next month’s membership fee. ALL backpacks will be donated to students in need in our community.
They have detailed lists of what each age group needs, just CLICK HERE! Or call Meghan at 570 823 2191. THANK YOU in advance!!! :)
Just ran ten miles. Felt great. Started devouring grapes upon my return and apparently forgot how to chew. You heard it here first, kids: Lissa was almost taken out by a grape. I seriously choked and got short of breath. Finally coughed it out. The ONLY drawback to living alone (I just discovered): you can NOT heimlich yourself. Not even if you're double jointed. Scary. I guess I'm relieved I didn't die but you must admit - if I HAD, that'd be one funny-ass obituary:
Lissa left us today. She was the picture of perfect health til her sudden, unexplainable death by graping. Doctors say if she'd led a more sedentary lifestyle and eaten fried foods, they'd have slid smoothly down her gullet and she'd still be with us today. Boo hoo. Cry cry. Chew your food, ya dumb Sporty Spice. Let us all eat jalapeno poppers and weep.
I promise to be more careful in the future. Or at the very least quit trying to swallow stuff whole.... wait, what? I didn't mean that the way it sounded. See THIS is what happens when you blog light headed from your near death-by-graping. I'm gonna go shower. And leave those bitches in the sun so they turn to raisins.
So KRZ is sending me to get a MASSAGE tonight! Pretty sweet, right? But I just found out it’s a male massage therapist so I totally hafta shave my legs. Probably wasn’t gonna do that for a female massage person, not gonna lie.
Ever realize you’re undercover sexist, but it comes out at the weirdest times, like right now? What’s wrong with me? I’m completely comfortable letting another woman experience my one day (translation: at LEAST two days) of disgusting leg stubble but when it comes to a man….nope. Gots to fake like I’m smooth and prissy. (See, that’s how you can tell a born & bred redneck woman – she refers to hairless as “prissy”. It’s so NOT prissy. It’s called not being gross, Lissa.)
If I were a REAL feminist chick I’d ride in with no makeup, no hair product, rip my clothes off, and brag about my right to vote while I proudly point to my leg hair and laugh at Joe Massage Guy while he cowers in fear! But alas, I’m not a real woman. I’m an insecure pre-teen at best. I shave and spray tan when ANY man – doctor, massager, physical therapist, mailman (don’t ask) might be looking at my body. And then it’s my womanly prerogative to act like I was born that way and would be completely skeeved out if it were otherwise. Shhhh….we all do this. It goes hand in hand with pretending we don't want dessert.
Those of you who REALLY know me are aware of my frizzy curly hair, no makeup face, slightly larger left boob, and freckly skin imperfections. But if any heterosexual male asks – these don’t exist. Damn, this better one relaxing-as-hell massage!…. Redneck sasquatch out. Ohmmmmm.
There’s a special place in hell for people who say “LOL”. Not the ones who TYPE it, I’m talking the ones who SAY it.... I have an acquaintance (can't call her a friend, cuz I really wouldn’t care if she left the country and never came back), who says “LOL” instead of laughing or having a normal human conversation. This puzzles me. And then after she says it, she looks around the room like “Did everyone just hear what I said? Am I not the most clever, hip, super cool text talker you‘ve ever met?” Ugh. (I should add - when my friend was pregnant, this woman kept picking on her weight, so I think that's part of the reason I find her LOL thing particularly annoying).
I wanna punch her in the face. I mean that in the nicest way.
Kay, I don’t really wanna punch her. But I feel like I should do something. is there ever an appropriate time to tell someone “you know you sound like a complete tool when you say that?” Kinda like when I wore faded jean overalls in the 90s - no one told me how dumb I looked. I resembled an out-of-work goth plumber. Why didn’t people intervene?! Could’ve saved me a decade of bad pictures.
I’ll keep my mouth shut. But let it be known to young and old nation wide: there’s never a good time to say “LOL”. It’s as confusing as when people say "that’s funny” instead of laughing. If it were truly funny, YOU’D BE LAUGHING! Kay, I gotta go cool down. How about a few cute kid pics to dropkick me back into sanity?
This is my nephew Benjamin. Sleeping.... My brother took this on their way home from Vermont the other day and called it an "Aunt Lissa Exclusive" cuz I was the only he texted it to - so of course, I hafta share it with the world! ;)
....and THIS is my best friend Shantell's baby boy, Landen. Isn't he just the most adorable thing you've ever seen?!?! I wanna put him in a pita pocket and serve him with chips! Beautiful!
As I’m typing this, it’s 7:43am and I’m on the air. Trying to multi-task. Failing miserably. I just realized I put my granola bar where my headphones go. And my headphones are hanging from their cord by my knees.
Can’t believe how busy I’ve been lately! But it’s a GOOD busy! Ya know how sometimes you bring stress upon yourself but it’s because you’ve signed up to do a million fun things and help people, so you really don’t mind? THAT’S the boat I’m in right now. Love it.
I’m gonna be on TV Thursday, on PA Live (WBRE) performing some of my original music to promote a show we’re doing with our friends at The Weekender July 19. It’s at The Jazz Café, it’s called Women Who Rock and it’s all to benefit the Domestic Violence Service Center. We’ll have tons of amazing local musicians, free food from River Street Jazz Café, and tickets are just $10 if you buy in advance!
Happy day after the 4th to youuuuuuuuuu!!! I know, I know, shut up Lissa. Everybody's tired, hungover, back to work...... HOPEFULLY you're in air conditioning today. Our offices are so cold I have two sweaters on right now. Did I just make you shake your head at your computer? Sorry.
THIS'LL MAKE IT BETTER!!! Cute baby alert! This pic is from our Scrantastic Spectacular on Tuesday - Cole is the son of two of my favorite co-workers, Selena & Ethan. He's SUCH a good baby, he should seriously give seminars to other babies to teach them how to act. He sat so nicely with me in the 90-degree heat - didn't even fuss! What a champ!
Selena says this is his "big pimpin" pose.... haaaaa
...then on the 4th, I was kickin' it with my girls at Quaker Steak & Lube! They had a dunk tank and yeah, I got dunked. We all did! Hey, you would too if it was a hundred plus degrees ;D
There’s no tactful way to ask your landlord “Hey, do you think my new neighbors are druggies? And if so – can you evict them?” I had this situation over the weekend. New chick next door was fighting with her boyfriend (apparently). At three a.m. Romeo & Juliet had police cars, fire trucks, etc. all over my street! From what I could overhear, the scuffle had something to do with “rocks” and “beating his girlfriend”. Looooooooovely.
So they put the boyfriend in cuffs, the whole time he’s screaming “WHY WOULD I BEAT MY GIRLFRIEND? I LOVE HER!” He musta said that fifty times. Haaa – has that EVER worked for a criminal? Ever? “Oh, he said he LOVES her! Well in that case….. never mind - let him go.”
He also had something to say about the crack rocks: “Those rocks aren’t mine, man.”
Officer: “I saw them fall out of your pocket.”
Him: “THEY’RE NOT MINE, MAN!”
Officer: “I saw them fall out of your pocket.”
Him: “No way! They’re not mine!”
Officer: “They were in your pocket.”
Repeat this conversation three or four times. Poor cops. They must feel like exasperated mothers sometimes. When your kid breaks a lamp, and you know they broke the lamp, yet they continue to deny they broke the lamp….. sigh. I’d lose my cool after the first time a criminal lied to me. After that, it’s taser time. So anyway, I texted my landlord the next day and I’m like “soooo….what’s up with Cheech & Chong? They staying long? They’re kinda creepy.” I have yet to hear back. Of course, they probably think I’M creepy. They’re texting my landlord right now going “What’s up with that runner chick? Why is she always listening to Nightranger at obscenely high volume levels? Weirdo.” Hey, that Nightranger’s not mine man. It just fell outta my pocket....and into the slot in my CD player.