The Morbidly Incomprehensible.

I have decided to write this in light of all the recent tragedy and violence in the past month or so and the reactions – both beautiful and ignorant- of the public.

The way my natural reaction process goes when I witness instances of tragedy like this is at first I feel sadness, then anger, then disgust especially when the negative reactions are said and done in the name of God or religion.

For example, those religious zealots who claim that the reason for the recent natural disasters such as Hurricane Sandy is because of “God’s anger” over  the legalizing of homosexual marriage in some states.   

My response to people who hold this belief is thus:

You are an idiot, you are close-minded, and your view of God is pathetic. If you honestly believe that God hates humans of a certain gender loving someone else of the same gender, I feel so sorry for you it brings me to tears. If you think your God hates anything or anyone, especially LOVE between two people I think you probably need to rethink your interpretation of most of your religious teachings.

As I have said here before, I am not a religious person, but I do believe in God and I do have my own set of moral structures. None of them include HATE of any sort. It’s a shame that so many supposed “believers” do include HATE of something or something as their belief structure.  

Another example of unbelievable ignorance is anyone who believes that the reason why a gunman has gone into a school and killed 26 people is because prayer is not allowed in schools anymore is also delusional.  

And don’t even get me started on those Westboro Baptist people. If they try to protest the funerals of anyone killed in that horrible tragedy, especially any of the children, they deserve anything they encounter. I hope that there are human walls blocking them, singing songs of peace and unity. And that their “message” falls on deaf ears.

I know that the best way to stop people with these hateful outlooks on life and its situations is to simply pay them no mind and to concentrate on the good in life and the good that I honestly do believe is still in humanity. I just had to get this out of my heart and mind and into written form.  Sometimes that makes me come to terms with the morbidly incomprehensible.

Thanksgiving.

It has been a while since I have posted and I probably could complain a novel's worth on here but I won't. 
Nobody wants to hear plain ol' bitching and complaining, even though, I'm sure some of you would relate to my complaints. 

So, I have decided that I will make a list of all the things I am thankful for and the reasons why.

Here goes:

I am thankful for everyone who's ever been my friend. Even the ones who are no longer my friend. I am thankful that you at least gave me a chance for a while. Trust me, some of your words, thoughtfulness, and actions have saved my life. In some cases, more than once.  I know that I'm not always the most diligent and visible friend (I don't always make shows or gatherings or parties or plans) but your friendship and invitations are much appreciated. That will never change. I just find it most comfortable for myself and my sanity to stay in my own environment a lot of the time, and also that my transportation (and sometimes funds) are often limited.  

I thank my oldest friends for accepting and consoling me at my worst and celebrating and encouraging me at my best. Sometimes I don't know what those two things (best/worst) are anymore so sometimes I need you to let me know.  

And for those who are no longer my friends. I remember the good times, no matter how bad they got. Sometimes two souls are just not meant to coexist.

I am thankful for my talents. There are many things that people have pointed out to me that I cannot do well but there are also many other things that I know and have been told that I do well or at least somewhat well.  
Being a musician, a writer, crafter, and all around creative being are some things that I know I was put on this earth to do. It may not be profitable or practical or even have a valid point to some people's eyes but to mine nevertheless it is my reason for existing. A pure reflection of myself.
I cannot change the happiness these abilities give to me or transpose that happiness onto something else. Working a day job will never make me happy, unless I am the one that created that day job. The bewilderment I feel being forced to do something for monetary gain will never overshadow the joy I feel in being creative. Although, I must admit it is a constant struggle. 

Last, but certainly not least, I am thankful for my ability to LOVE at all costs. Even when someone I love is being difficult or not understanding my intentions, I am thankful that I never give up on them. I wouldn't want them to give up on me would I? No, of course not. 
"Do onto others..."  
And even when what I love is hated and ridiculed by others, I still love it because it means something precious to me.  

I am understanding more and more that what matters to me is all that counts and as long as I keep my intentions pure and positive, things should work out in good favor. 

These things I am thankful for make me thankful to be alive.
And being alive is most certainly a good thing.

-L

Departmental Characterizations

 Departmental Characterizations by Lisa M. Bello

If I tell you honestly the things that offend me you would think me odd,

Or maybe you wouldn't if you really paid attention.

The things I try to do out of my own mind to be with your ideals and expectations,

Never seem to line up.

The frustration I feel is such,

The anger turns into a pure involuntary sadness.

The chills one gets before crying have become commonplace. 

I don't think many people will understand, 

Least of all the ones I want to understand the most.

The tears fall in public,

And without warning.

I'm trying to remain even tempered and sane,

When every bone, muscle, and organ in my body is telling me to flee.

I know this may be a product of my retched experience,

With people who have a power over me.

The resulting feelings are nothing I can avoid or suppress.

Like the dark clouds before a storm, they come and keep coming. 

There is not much I can do about it. 

"Sucking it up" can only go so far,

Sooner or later something will break or bend. 

Or maybe get washed away in the flood waters.

Sometimes I honestly wish it would.

Take with it the blame, guilt, uncertainty, and sorrow it has left in its wake.

Maybe I'm just having a bad day.

Maybe my heart is tired.

Maybe Im tired of being who I have to be.

I just want to be who I am.

Too bad that being who I am is not profitable or approved or easily categorized.

The world is a series of departmental characterizations. 

None of which I fit,

None of which I think I will ever fit. 

The Rebel by Lisa M. Bello

There's a little rebel inside of me that's dying.
And as it does it screams.

Screaming obscenities to a three chord soundtrack.
It's dressed in black and has spikes on its jacket.

On every finger a ring,
A skull,
Black onyx silver barbed wire.

It's everything the world hates,
But it's everything I love.

Pure in form and vision,
Nothing about it is fake.
I wish I could see it live,
But real life gave it a call,
Told it was being put on death row.
 Next to dreams, purity, and fulfillment.

But I wonder what will replace the rebel.
Because there always is a replacement.

Just like a lightbulb,
It can't burn forever.

The rebel, my friend, will die a hero.
It fought he good fight.
Even though its death sentence is true.

The host although oblivious,
Will die along with it.

I wrote this yesterday...with a pen!

I'm sitting on the bleachers of a little league baseball field where I imagine that, in season, the kids play on the field while the parents look on from them.  The sound of children laughing and parents cheering must have filled this air many times.

But right now all I can hear is the faint sound of nearby construction equipment, the patter of squirrels going up these trees with the changing leaves and the rush of traffic behind me.

It's my first day of work and, as normal, I am super early. About an hour early to be exact. I don't mind the extra time is it gives me a few minutes to collect my thoughts and write them out a bit. Some people hate extra time and uncomfortable silences but I welcome them because if you think about it, it is with in those moments that the memorable things happen.

And those small moments are what make life worth living because without them, routine would take over and that's when life becomes stagnant.   

Stagnation is the death of creativity.

The death of creativity would surely mean, the death of me.

Tomorrow I start a new chapter in my life.

I have been unemployed since February and tomorrow I start a new job very close to my house. I hope that I am not too nervous and that everyone is nice at the job. I always get so nervous starting new chapters in life. I always anticipate the worst and hope for the best. 

Sigh... I hope everything is copacetic. 

I'm really not afraid anymore.

I'm not afraid anymore of what other people think.

I know I've said this a bunch of times in my life but this time I mean it.

I had the opportunity to be in a band this week. A band that, although it may be just in it's formative years will probally be really successful because they have a strong, über-talented, and determined individual heading them. He liked my voice ( the position in the band was just for a singer) and thought I would fit with his band. 

But after speaking with him for a while I realized that his dream is not my dream.

I spent a lot of my life in a rock band hoping that we got picked up by some major label for stardom.  I had never gone on tour but I did have a representative from Columbia records (are they even around anymore?) look at the band I was in in the late 1990s- Early 2000s. I know people who are incredible musicians who have been through the ringer of the modern day music making and made it through alive but with what some people would see as short lived fame. So I know the ins and outs of the life. It's just...

I have no dream of being in a famous band anymore. 

Now don't get me wrong, this does not mean that I am giving up making music. I have just been slowly losing the desire and passion that I once had for it and I DO NOT want to fake it. I never want to cheapen music like that. I simply love it too much not to give it 1000%.  Now some people might think this is sad or lazy and a waste of talent on my part, which I honestly and truly appreciate ANYONE who thinks I'm talented at ANYTHING but I really don't see it as a waste and I am certainly NOT being lazy. I'm just seeing the truth of what is in my heart and mind. I don't have the drive and desire I once had. 

I still have a project that I am working on with a long time friend of mine that I really do want to see to completion but after that, I have no plans for music in my future. I'm not barring it from my future but I'm not going to force it or anything creative I do anymore.    

Through this weird process of uncertainty with my music, I have rediscovered the creative process that started it all for me:  Writing. As I have mentioned here before, I have been working on a novel and I have also been compiling some of my old writings onto my website. This process for me has been really rewarding and dare I say it makes me happy. 

And happiness is what I need to strive for now in my life. My own happiness.  

Normal

On nights like these I wish I was the type of person who could just close their eyes to rid themselves of the world and their own personal troubles.

But unfortunately for me it is not that easy.
There are some people I know, like my boyfriend, who can remain happy as long as there is nothing he can do about what is worrying him.

He figures that if there is nothing you can do about it then there is no use in worrying.
I don't know how that logic digests in his system.
In his brain and heart system.

You see, me, I worry about everything.
I was so worried last night when my dog was suddenly afraid of coming inside for no rational reason (there was nothing scary at all) I cried myself to sleep. I mean it hurt so much to have to grab her by her scruff and put her inside that I felt like I had abused her. An animal that I know and love made me feel like I was not deserving of her love and trust. She should trust that I was not and will never be in the business of hurting her. I am at a loss for understanding her at all lately.

There was not much else I could do in the situation I guess, to look at it from my boyfriend's perspective but as my personality is, I can't ignore the situation or her oddball irrational behavior.

I think also the fact that I have been out of work for quite a while and now starting to get super duper depressed about it is not helping my mental preparedness for this sort of thing.
I feel sorta guilty for feeling sad because I had to grab her and push her inside. I didn't do it violently, but I didn't (and really couldn't) do it gently either.

Sometimes i want to just give up. On the dog, the job search, the way I'm making my boyfriend feel with my weepyness, everything.
Not being a close friend of normal has served me well in some parts of my life, but sometimes i wish normal would pay me a visit once in a while.

I posted a new short story on my website.

Check it out!



I posted a new short story up to my website called:



He Has a Name?

Click this link to read it on the website.

http://www.lisambello.com/shortstories.html#aname



Or just read it here. :)

Enjoy - L.

He Has A Name? –short story by Lisa M. Bello

Sigh.




Cassandra opens the vacuum package for her morning coffee. She’s
done this every morning for a year, thinking the same thing. Will this
finally be the day she tells him how she feels?




She lazily pours water into the decanter and scoops coffee into the
basket she had just lined with a fresh new filter. She switches on the
machine and with a flickering orange light and a steam surge, she starts another day.




Cassandra always prefers radio to TV.


“Television leaves too much to be desired and there is no personal
imagination left in the stories. TV is for people who need their
entertainment fed to them with a silver spoon.” is what she always says
about it.


So she turns on the stereo. It was a top notch system created piece by piece by a friend of hers whom she no longer speaks to.




She no longer speaks to a lot of people that were once in her life.




Halfway through Led Zeppelin’s “Communication Breakdown” the coffee sputters to a halt.

As she pours herself a cup, she notices that a note has been slipped
under her front door. She puts down the carafe and walks toward her
door. Across a rust colored carpet, straight to the white heavy metal
door, still bolted, chained, and locked from the night before. Hey you
can never be too safe!




A small yellowish blue card is folded in half a quarter way under
the door. The majority of the paper was facing inward towards her.
Cassandra has seen this paper before, but where? With a wrinkled brow
and curious anticipation she picks up the paper and unfolds it.




“Where you live is not where your heart lies.”




Cassandra’s face twists into a peculiar and delirious look. She has
no idea where this note came from. Either way she feels she has to keep
it on her person today. Wherever she goes. She slips the note into the
front pocket of her work pants. She turns to glance at the large red
digital clock near the door and it blares 7:45am. Looks like she’ll be
late again.




“So what else is new?” Cassandra mumbles to herself in frustration.




It’s noisy on 14th Street. The peddlers and street vendors are out
early. Better for them being that it’s only six weeks until the winter
holidays. Cassandra pulls the collar of her deep plum tweed coat
around her face and shivers.




“Damn it’s cold today!” she stammered as she crossed the street to get to the bus stop.




Sigh. Maybe he’ll come around again this morning. It always makes her day brighter just to see him.


On the bus it is warm and cozy but Cassandra can’t stop fidgeting. Damn winter skin! I get too itchy this time of year! She thought to herself. She also made a mental note to buy moisturizing soap.


As she reaches in her bag to retrieve her iPod she can’t help but
feel someone’s eyes on her. She looks up to meet the gaze of a familiar
but foreign face. A girl with long black hair done up in braids with
pink highlights, a visible tattoo crawling up the side of her neck and
layers upon layers of pink and black clothing. She adjusts her nose
ring and pretends to look away from Cassandra.




Where the hell do I know this girl from? She keeps saying over and over again in her mind.


Cassandra’s memory isn’t so sharp lately being that most of her thoughts surround a certain boy with piercing blue eyes.


Ehhh. It will come to me later. She silently concedes while
pressing the play button on the iPod. Ahh! The sound of distorted
guitar is one of Cassandra’s favorite sounds. It drowns out all the
sorrows of the world.




While running past the guards at the front desk, she flashes her ID
card and then uses it to swipe herself up to the twenty-third floor of
the massive office building.The smell of coffee and donuts hits her as
she arrives to her floor. Meeting today I suppose. She mumbles
to herself as she tries her best not to be seen sneaking into her
cubicle. Ducking low and trying not to jingle, she plops herself lightly
into her chair. But then a head pops over her cubicle wall.




“Late again huh? This must be a new record for you!” A curvaceous but
studious looking blond woman whispers to Cassandra with a raised
eyebrow.




“Shut up Ali!” Cassandra whispers back while turning on her desktop Windows computer.




“Well, I’m just saying it may be a new record for you, 45 minutes today beats your half hour of yesterday.” Ali smiles.




“I dunno Al, I just find it hard to be on time lately.” Cassandra says, with sarcasm oozing out of every syllable.




“Too much time spent looking at a pair of grey pants.” Ali chuckles with delight.




“Al, don’t make me pass a note high school style two cubicles over
to Stewie.” Cassandra says totally serious but with a smirk. Ali
shutters and gasps at that idea. Stewie is a sort of frumpy man in his
late 50s with a very bad body odor problem. He’s sweet enough but Ali
has a strong revulsion to his every way.




“Speaking of notes” Cassandra reaches into her pants pocket. “This was under my door this morning.”




Ali grabs the note with her perfectly manicured hand out of
Cassandra’s comparatively worn out ink stained one and examines it.




“Hmm...wanna know something weird Cass?” Ali says.

Cassandra’s eyebrows pique with interest.




“This paper sort of looks like the receipt I got for my lunch yesterday. It’s one of those carbon copy thingamajigs.”




Cassandra sits up straighter in her seat and asks, “Where did you eat yesterday Al? Not that Mexican place again right?”




“Oh god no!” Ali exclaims while putting a hand to her chest making a I-got-heartburn- face.I went to that place on 1st Ave.”




“That greasy spoon?” Cassandra said with a giggle. “You might as well have eaten that Mexican. Blech…”




“No really they have the best tuna melts there! Trust me! There’s
this complete rock and roll chick working in the kitchen. She must put
wonderful drugs into the food or something." 

Cassandra makes a mental note
to try it and then speaks on another subject.

“So... has he been in yet?”




Ali rolled her eyes. “Cass, you know the mail doesn’t come in for least another hour.”




“I know! I just thought maybe by chance...”




“Thought what? That he’d come in to see the pretty girl who likes
him, but he doesn’t know she likes him because she’s too chicken to say
and...”




“Okay enough Ali! I get your point.”




“I’m just speaking truth and SOMEONE, meaning you needs to tell a
certain other SOMEONE, meaning our good-looking mailman there how she
feels.There is no ring on his finger! Worst he could say is that he has
a girlfriend. Stop being so goddamn scared!”




Cassandra knows there is nothing to be scared of really. It is just
when he looks at her with those blue eyes something inside of her
ceases to function correctly; One of these things being her ability to
properly speak.




An hour later it happens.  He comes through the door with
the bag of mail for the 23rd floor. Short black brown hair only long
enough to get into his left eye, about 6 feet tall, medium build with
broad shoulders that are defined wonderfully by the cut of his uniform
jacket, and just about the firmest butt ever to be seen on a grown man,
or at least Cassandra thought so.




He makes his way around the room placing mail in the bins near the clusters of cubicles.




Cassandra watches his every move as he smiles and looks down at the
mail figuring out section names. Oh so hot. Cassandra is almost
drooling.




“Hey!” he says while plopping down the mail into the bin next to her cubicle.




“Heyyy..he..hey! Whaaat’s up?” she manages to studder out through a
flutter of butterflies in her stomach and a lump in her throat.




“Nothing much, it’s a bit chilly out there today.”




Her shock is apparent all over her face. He smiles and waits in a
courteous stance for her to speak. “It’s not he he he.. not too bad”
Cassandra can't  control her girlish giggling around him.




“You know we’ve never been properly introduced. I’m Daniel. Daniel DiLuci. And you are?”

“Cass.Cassandra Dali.”




Daniel is definitely thinking to himself but does not ask if there was a Miss or Mrs. in front of her name.




“Well, nice to officially meet you Cassandra. I’m sure I’ll see you again.”




“Um..sure..Daniel.” Cassandra manages to smile at him while she
speaks. The smile back Daniel gave her causes her to become light-headed.
Then with a whiff of his light but intoxicating cologne
escaping from the confines of his polyester uniform shirt he leaves. 




Cassandra almost falls off her chair as she slinks down in her seat
as low as she can go. She can hear Ali’s snickering and “Oh my
Gods” faintly through the haze of heat left in Daniel’s wake.




Now, he has a name.

Title of My Work in Progress Novel

I have been working on a novel for a few months now. Actually for a good part of a year.

The title of this WIP (That's the proper "net" term for it right writers?) is:

The Naturenetics: An Absorber in the Megacosm

Stay tuned for more details and interesting things relating to the novel. 

I am trying to use this blog for more than everyday world ranting. Although, there will still be that I'm sure. 

I am trying out a new app for blogging.

I am trying out a new iPad app for blogging. 

It is supposed to make formatting easier and adding links, videos, and images a snap so I figured I would try it. 

Still trying it out so if something looks wonky let me know. 

So...I actually went to church this week.

I must confess, I am a non-practicing Catholic. 

 

I do not go to regular Sunday mass and I haven't for almost over 20 years now.

I don't look down on people who do regularly go to church or believe that actually going into that building makes them a good person. It only makes them a follower of a doctrine and tradition. 

I've known PLENTY of church going people who were close-minded, prejudiced, sexist, racist, judgmental, and just plain old fashioned mean.

But back to the story at hand, I actually did go to a repast mass for one of my boyfriend's relatives. It really was a nice sentiment to gather together in the memory of a lost loved one and most of the readings and things that were said (in readings, the homily, etc.) were all positive.

I was sitting (kneeling, standing) there thinking that it was kind of nice to be in the presence of something like this, positive and reinforcing...

Until a line in one of the readings caught my attention and almost made me angry.

The line was in a chorus response of "Lord Hear Our Prayer" went something like this:

"For the sanctity of marriage and the protection of human life at all stages, we pray to the Lord..."

Now anyone who can read between the lines and was ACTUALLY listening to that statement would see that the meaning of it was: "No gay marriage and no abortions". 

My boyfriend actually looked and laughed silently at me at that moment because I'm sure my face after hearing that statement was priceless. I am always complaining to him about the hypocrisy of Catholicism, I guess he just got a blatant example for once. 

Where most people get it wrong is where I say I believe in God but not in religion.
Religion was made up by humans (men) to keep the order and control over other humans.

God simply is everywhere and in everything. I don't need a building or a book to connect me to God. But then again, I don't judge the people who do. I just don't understand it, like they don't understand how I don't go to church or subscribe to all the dogma. 

A non-belief in religion does not make me an atheist. I wish people would stop claiming or treating me like I'm godless.

I guess we are afraid of what we cannot understand.

Well, some of us anyway.

Back to writing...

I may or may not have mentioned that I was laid off from my day job back in February. During this time, I have really began to fall back in love with writing. I was a writer in my teenage years and early twenties and I have written songs pretty consistently since I was 14. So, coming back into it full force seemed like a natural cycle in my life. I have befriended some writers online and have joined some fan pages and groups online that support writers and help them promote their work. Sounds all good and dandy but sometimes I get confused and discouraged at the sheer vastness of it all. I'm not sure what to "promote" on the promoting sites because I do not have any officially published works. I feel like a total amateur when I look at most of these groups. The ones that offer critique scare me even more. I'm not the most confident person to begin with and I feel that maybe trying to get some critique on my writing at this point may be counter-productive. If anyone is reading this blog, can you please offer some suggestions for a recently reemerging writer such as myself? Links, books, and other forms of reference would be much appreciated as would straight up candid advice. ~L.

I found an old blog..

That I had back in 2003... Um needless to say it is now deleted lol

Awkward reading. Poof! It's gone .. the wonder of the internet.

My website

I am on the process of updating my website. It is for my writings only. It's kinda bare bones right now but if you want to check it out feel free.

www.lisambello.com

I finally got around to completing this list and i decided to shorten it to 8 songs so without further adieu...
Top 8 Love Songs of the 21st Century in no particular order…
(In my opinion of course)
In my opinion, a great love song will make you cry but will make you hopeful and also assure you that romance is not dead. I only include love songs from this century because we really could be here all week if I made a list from the 20th Century. This list is very romantic and mushy… DEAL WITH IT.

So here it goes!
Love Story –Taylor Swift


I love rock music, but I can appreciate and love a great pop hook. Everyone who knows me knows this. But my boyfriend loves country and I love my boyfriend so this is why this song is on my list. There is a pop hook and that little bit of country that reminds me of my Romeo (go ahead barf…I’ll wait ).

Stand Inside Your Love – The Smashing Pumpkins

This actually just made it to the list being it was released in February of 2000. I love this version of the Smashing Pumpkins before it was just Billy Corgan and three people that aren’t Jimmy, James, D’arcy and/or Melissa Auf Der Maur. The dark yet beautiful lyrics of this song and the dynamic waves this song has is something that pulls at my heartstrings no matter how many times I hear it.

Combinations – Eisley

This combination (pun intended) of beautiful voices is what true love sounds like. The chorus of this song would make a great wedding vow.

A Thousand Years – Christina Perri


I love the Twilight series, because I am a romantic sometimes on a cheesy level, obviously from this list, and the first time I heard this song I was swooning at the beauty of the lyrics and also how it fit with the Twilight love story. I guess that’s why it was on the soundtrack.

Follow You Into The Dark –Death Cab For Cutie

My boyfriend and I have pretty much decided if we were ever to “jump the broom” our “song” would be this one or Romeo and Juliet by Dire Straits. Romantic we are.

Flightless Bird, American Mouth – Iron & Wine

This song was in one of the most romantic scenes in a movie of the 21st Century.From Twilight of course... Absolutely beautiful.

Chasing Cars – Snow Patrol

“If I lay here, If I just lay here, Would you lie with me and just forget the world?” Isn’t that what being in love is truly about?

The Only Exception – Paramore

and finally … a love song for the jaded.

This just occurred to me...

A lot of people who think that they are original or "unlike everyone else" seem to almost always share the opinions, tastes, and dislikes of people who also consider themselves " unlike everyone else" or "originals" in their life. Isn't that sort of hypocritical or counter productive to their lifestyle? Throughout my life I feel I have always been the one who shared the opposite taste or opinion of my "peers" or people I know. Almost no one agrees with my opinion or shares my taste in my circle of friends or peers. Occasionally we do meet on common ground, but it is rare. It's only now that I find myself thinking, "Am I really THAT goddamn strange? Are my opinions really that revolutionary?" After all isn't the definition of revolutionary a person who believes in a fundamental change in the way of thinking or visualizing something? Yeah according to the dictionary it is. So exactly how is aligning your opinions with those of your friends or common "alternative" knowledge revolutionary? It really isn't. You can't implant an idea in someone's head that is already there. Again, it is counter-productive and pointless. So all you fake revolutionaries do me a favor, absolutely love something (or a bunch of somethings if you are that brave) that a majority, if not all of your friends/peers, hate and think is completely stupid and deal with the mockery and bullshit that often follows and THEN call yourself an original thinker. Oh yeah and stand your ground about it too. Don't change the subject at hand or make fun of this object of seemingly undeserved affection. ( I have been guilty of this infraction in the past but I no longer care about feeling like shit at the hands/ dagger words of others.) Otherwise, you with your "rebel" clothes on, are just like everyone fucking else. Despite what you think you see in the mirror.

Ok ...This is weird.

Ok yeah... I don't think I like the idea of a singer chick having the same name as I do. I guess this is why I INSIST on putting my FULL name Lisa M. Bello on every piece of music I create or help create. It's not bad for what it is, not my taste or style at all but it doesn't suck, at least I could say that for someone with my namesake.

Going to see The Raven today...

Hopefully it lives up to the dark beauty and fright you feel when you read Poe.

Hit So Hard Trailer (HD)

I saw this movie with my best friend Erik last night. I must say it is a must see for fans of the band Hole. I would also say if you admire female rock drummers this is also a must see. If you can stand seeing Courtney Love speak, it's also a movie for Nirvana/Kurt Cobain fans. He's in quite a lot of the footage.

I'm working on a list of top 10 love songs.

As much as the strict rocker in me hates to admit it, I like love songs. I was thinking that I would make a list of them with links to the videos for your (whomever you are) viewing pleasure. I hope to have this done sometime next week or so. I want to make sure I research it completely. Although I won't consciously omit certain genres of music, I am doing this on MY personal preference and opinion. I am however limiting my choices to the 21st century. Music doesn't suck now, it's just some of us are too lazy to dig deeper and sort the good music from the stuff the media tries to feed us. Until next time :)

I would like to thank Alaric Saltzman...

Aka Matthew Davis for visiting my dreams last night. I am much obiged sir. Sorry, that even in my dreams I am faithful to my boyfriend. But it was nice that my dream-mind put you in there for my viewing pleasure. See you on my DVR for Vampire Diaries :)

You sir, are sexy.

Wasn't feeling up to being good today.

...so I wasn't.

I ate McDonalds and then went to Dairy Queen for ice cream.

I don't feel guilty. Screw it.

Lazy Sunday and the movies we like.

My boyfriend and I have been just hanging out all day today.
We made breakfast at about 12pm and have just been hanging out all day since.
I have noticed two films of the Fast and Furious film franchise have been on today. I've stopped and watched parts of both of them. Not because my boyfriend loves those movies because of the driving and cars but because I think I kinda like them too.

I would not have been saying this 5 years ago.

Ahh how love makes you appreciate a wider variety of things :)
I think I've had some similar effect on him as well though.
He does stop when he sees a Twilight movie on.

Compromises people. Not everything has to be so one sided and extreme.

I still dislike the American Pie movies that he loves and he refuses to watch my exhusband-in-another-life Sam Witwer in Being Human on SyFy.

But who knows... This could change too in time. :)

Hole Reunion

I want to start posting a lot more.

I was signing up for some affiliate website thing that claims you can get paid for posting content. I signed up for it, posted one thing, and then realized that I could do the same here on my own blog. And if I wanted to do the adsense google thing I could eventually do that here too. Plus, I didn't like their rules about posting. On my blog, this here thing you are reading, in the Lisa space... there are no rules. I don't care if you read this blog naked, in a strip club, while having a massage, with a therapeutic face mask on, while watching The Big Bang Theory (Johnny Galecki is super nerd hot BTW) or soaking your tootsies in some bubbly water after a hard day at work and you're a man. I used to write so much in my youth. It made me feel sane. The past few years I haven't written anything unless it was contained in a song. And I'm not exactly sure why I stopped maybe it's because I am pretty happy now when in the height of my writing, I was an emotional roller coaster? Who knows! I used to just write even if what I wrote didn't make any type of sense. I want to get back to that. Sometimes it will be stupid, sometimes it will be angry/ranting, sometimes it will be heartfelt, sometimes it will be poetry, prose, a list of things I like, a video I like, praise for a TV show, praise for a music artist, praise for a book or author, sometimes I'll show you how to do something (don't get offended if you already know how to do it, genius :/) or I'll tell you about something I did yesterday or today or that time in that place with those people and that boat... That being said I'm going to try to post every day here or some thereabouts. It's one of those things that I swear to myself that I'm going to do but life interrupts. I want to tell life to hold on while I post this...

I read a great article today defending my beloved Twilight.

Question of the day: Why *isn't* Twilight's Bella Swan a feminist creation?

This article says the exact thing I think and can't explain because of fear of being attacked when people say the character of Bella Swan-Cullen has "set feminism back 50 years".

A comment on this post actually stood out to me too.
Commenter Cece stated-
"It’s interesting that female characters that are labeled as Feminist (or Badass) are those that have taken on very traditional masculine archetype (Buffy, Lisbeth, Katniss).
Twilight and Bella cause discomfort because it hits closer to home than many would like to admit. "

Yep.

So... yeah...

About a month ago, I was laid off from my day job. This is of course always a blessing and curse when it happens.
A blessing because, I wasn't 100% happy at the job but it of course paid the bills. So I've been feeling quite creative lately.

I've created my own beads that I will be using in some new pieces for Empty Heart Creations.

I have been working on mixing some songs for my (our) new music project Friends of Ours. We hope to have something out in the online music world by summer. Hopefully.

I am also writing a story/book/novel/short story. Not sure how long or short it is going to be but I think it will be enjoyable for some people to read just as it is enjoyable for me to write (so far).

This brings me to a thought that came across the crowded plane that is my brain.

I was thinking about the concept of the resume and cover letter. My theory or thoughts on them is as follows:
How can you summarize yourself within a few pages? How can you list the things that you COULD be capable of if you were only given the chance or freedom or money or education or ENCOURAGEMENT?

A piece of paper could never define me. There are still many things that I am going to be. Sometimes the universe shows you these things and sometimes you have to go actively looking for them.

A resume or résumé (if you want to be goddamn fancy pants about it) is only a fraction of myself that I show to people. It is, of course, facts but facts always have a history behind them.

If you want to know about me, ask me questions. Because assumptions made about me, whether you read them on my resume or heard them from someone else or judged them based on my looks or something comparatively limited, are usually wrong or only a fraction of the truth.

Thoughts of a repressed, stressed, and overworked mind...

I am at work right now at what I like to call my day job, kind of at my wits end with everything here. Yes, it pays the bills but I feel so stressed from being pulled this way and that way by coworkers in need of my help.

In this economy, I do feel lucky to have some sort of cash flow coming in. But I wish that I could do something more passionate and creative to supply that cash flow.

Reading these on Etsy.com, make me hopeful for something like that in the future.

I guess, if I ever want it to happen I have to stop procrastinating. I think, that it's less procrastinating and more fear.

It's like that in a lot of aspects of my life come to think of it. At 32, I don't have a license to drive. I want to remedy that, but I'm afraid of getting into a huge accident and crashing and dying in the car crash or worse being somehow permanently damaged, maimed, or paralyzed. People call this irrational and boast about the freedom I will have from acquiring a driver's license, (and they may all be well meaning albeit quite annoying at times) but they don't understand the fear I have inside of me.

Maybe this fear stems from my childhood and the shitty way I was treated by my "peers". Maybe it comes from lack of true encouragement by family and friends. Maybe it comes from the post-traumatic stress I endured from my last relationship.

Who knows? I sure as hell don't, if I did I'd be working on fixing it.

Sigh... well, I am going to try to learn this year. 2012.

It would be nice to blast MY music in MY car...and everyone else would have to deal with it. And SELECT people would be able to change the station. But the people I'd want most in the car would NOT want to change it in the first place.

So I guess I'll chose that motivation to learn to drive. The fact I would get to pick the music...all the time!

I guess I have to find motivation for all aspects of my life. So I can stop being so aggravated. It's really starting to take it's toll on me in all ways...mental..physical..and emotional.

I guess today's a good day to start right?