Home Life

Growing up, I always thought my life and family setting were normal. We lived on Mansfield Drive, as did my Nonni, Nonno, Nonna and Zia. I suppose when you don’t know any different, what would you possibly have to compare to?

My mom, dad, little brother and I lived in one of the biggest houses on our street. My parents even had a pool built in, (the only one on the street, unheard of in South San Francisco). My grandparents lived about a dozen houses away, on the same side of the street. My aunt lived across the street. My little world was happy and stable. I loved going to school and was pretty good at it too. My Nonni and Nonna would meet me after school, with my brother in the buggy, to walk me home and wait for mom to come home from work. This was my first school, Serra Vista Elementary School. I went to Serra Vista through the third grade.

About this time, my parents purchased a home in Belmont, CA. It was 1976. I remember because we moved in over the 4^th of July weekend, and it was a big deal then with the bicentennial and all. Still, to this day whenever I see a bicentennial quarter, it makes me think of that weekend moving to Belmont. I remember not wanting to be so far from my Nonni and Nonno. I remember feeling so scared to start anew. Little did I know at the time, but this moving stuff was going to become the norm for me.

I began the fourth grade at Benjamin Fox Elementary School with Senorita Clark. A woman I despised from our very first meeting. She insisted we call her Senorita and tried to teach us Spanish, which pissed me off at my young age of nine. It was truly my worst year of school to date. I don’t remember having many friends, but I do remember taking up smoking: menthols.

From there, our school caught fire in the summer between 4^th and 5^th grade, so we were bussed off to McDougall Elementary School, where we were not very welcomed. About this time my parents started having marital problems and my dad, whom I adored, got his own apartment. This is when my grades began to drop and I developed many stomach aches and various ailments. I remember one time feeling ill and going to the office with complaints. After the nurse called home, I was so elated to see it was my dad who came to pick me up.

My 6^th grade year was back at Ben Fox and I still remember my teachers’ name: Mr. VonKluck. He was an eccentric little man that wore a suit and tie every day. I remember thinking he looked just like he had popped out of Topper, (I always loved those old shows, still do). At this point, I still did not have many friends, but I didn’t care because I got to spend every weekend at Nonni and Nonno’s house where I did have friends.

Middle School came and I attended Ralston Intermediate School. I actually loved it there and made many friends. I even had made my first “best friend” Chrissy. Having a great friend made going to school more desirable and also started to keep me home on weekends. It was about this time that I started going to parties, drinking beers, and noticing boys in a totally different way. I was having fun for the first time in a long time. My dad was still intermittent with his home time.

It was towards the end of my 8^th grade year when I came home from school one day, and to my surprise both my mom and dad were there. They sat me down to tell me of their parting ways. It went something like this, “Lisa, we both love you and always will. This has nothing to do with you and is in no way your fault, but mom and I are getting divorced. We still love each other, but can no longer live together.” Wow, I had no idea. I was eleven at the time, my brother eight. I think I was the one to break the news to my brother. It was all very sad and I think I must have blocked out a lot from that time as it was so painful, there are very few details I can recall. It was soon after that that my dad just never came home again. My mom was sad and our lives were about to change dramatically once more.

As all of my friends were gearing up to start high school, I was about to move once again. Heartbreaking as it was, I had lived in a place I grew to love for five years and was now faced with starting all over once again. This was really a difficult time for me. My Belmont home was long forgotten, my dad was gone, and my mom, my brother and I were moving to San Mateo into a little house on 31^st Avenue. It was about this time that I started smoking in the house in front of my mom and family. It was also at this time that I really stopped caring about my life, myself, and about school. I just didn’t care anymore.

Hillsdale High School was not much fun for me. Again, I had no friends, no ties, nothing. It was a whole lot of despair. All I wanted to do was be with my old Belmont friends and party as to forget my sad situation. I only went to this school for the first semester of my ninth grade year.

We moved again, shortly after Christmas, this time to Sunnyvale, which seemed a lifetime away from Belmont or San Mateo. At least in San Mateo, I was still in proximity to my Belmont friends and could meet up with them by using public transportation. Sunnyvale was much farther away, and it was the middle of the school year. Apparently, my mom had a new job and a new boyfriend, (that I hated with every ounce of my being). To make matters worse, I was on my way back to middle school as this county had their students in middle school through 7-8-9^th grades. Bummer. I will never forget my first day at Peterson Middle School, my mom brought me in and said, “I don’t know how you are going to get home, but you’ll figure it out.” All I could think of that day was, “where exactly am I and how will I find my way home?” Luckily there was a big map in the counseling office that I could look at and decipher a route home. We did live pretty far from school. I am guessing at least two miles. I did OK at Peterson, but looking back now, I was a sad little girl.

My tenth grade year began at Wilcox High School and I felt pretty sure that things would go well for me. I started making some new friends and it wasn’t until I had found a boyfriend of my own that I really felt a bit more confident. His name was Tom and he was a friendly and fun guy to be around. His family was nice to me and I began to spend more time with his family than my own. Besides, my mom had stopped coming home, or even grocery shopping for us anymore. Still, I tried to avoid my own home life as much as possible. Looking back now, I wonder what my little brother was doing. It seems we were merely surviving.

Since my grades were slipping due to my continuous partying and non-caring attitude towards school, I was recommended to go to our districts local continuation school, Valley. I did so and really enjoyed my time there. Honestly I never belonged in a continuation school in the first place, as I was a smart student. I just had a fucked up home life that got in the way of my success. I did well at Valley and would have loved to stay there beyond my junior year, but once again, the turmoil in my home took precedence.

My mom had broken up with her asshole boyfriend by this time and was dating several black men. It was the summer of 1984 that she met and married Rocky, who wasn’t much better than any of the others. Rocky moved in to the mobile home my grandparents had bought for us and began to take charge, even typing up a list of duties for my brother and me to abide by. It was all so unreasonable that I could not simply sit by and allow this stranger to take over my life. I truly hated him. It came down to a confrontation one afternoon when my mom was not home. He pretty much told me to “get the fuck out.” I left home and called my mom in hopes of some comfort and what she said to me at that desperate moment of my life is something I will never forget. She said to me, over the phone, “if Rocky leaves me because of you, I will never forgive you.” Those were probably the harshest words ever said to me; because at that moment, what I really needed was love and reassurance. That is not what I received. I was crushed and felt incredibly alone, as if I had no one left to care for me. I did not know what else to do, so I called my dad. He was living in Burlingame at the time with his new, young wife. He came to pick up my brother and I and took us home to his apartment. It was clear that his wife did not like or want us there. I was already broken and did not care about myself or my life. It seemed that no one really cared for me, so what value did I have?

The next morning, my dad took Aaron and I to my grandparents home. I should say that by this point my grandparents were not speaking to my mom and had not been invited to her recent wedding, as they did not approve. My brother did not stay with Nonni, Nonno and me. He missed my mom too much and returned home to her and Rocky. I stayed with my grandparents and vowed never to return home again. I never did.

Luckily my grandparents took me in with open arms and plenty of love. I was about to begin my senior year in high school and again about to embark on a new environment. Since I had just come from a continuation school, I was placed in another continuation school in another county. This school was called Baden. I didn’t much like it there, but I did well I think mostly because my home life was now more stable than it had ever been. I actually did so well that I was recommended to go to the mainstream high school mid-year. Again, I transferred schools and was now at El Camino High School. Unfortunately, with all of the transfers and many schools on my transcripts, I had missed out on some units and told that I did not have enough to graduate with my class. I was brokenhearted once more. My Nonni so understood, she allowed me to drop out just weeks before year end. I then pursued my high school diploma by taking my GED. My horrible high school experience had come to an end. I lived with Nonni and Nonno for five years before moving back to the south bay.

I should also mention that at the time my mom married Rocky; I had met and started dating my future husband, Glenn. I really loved him and it made it all the more difficult to leave my home in Sunnyvale and live in South San Francisco again. I was sixteen, in love, heartbroken and in need of some stability. Throughout this tough time, Glenn and I stayed together, spending weekends together and enjoying each other’s company.

Glenn and I dated off and on for the next six years. We eventually married in 1989 and have remained happily married to this day. We now have two beautiful, intelligent, and well adjusted children that brighten our days. We have worked hard to provide stability, consistency and a loving home for them. I am proud to say that Glenn and I will be celebrating our twentieth anniversary about six weeks from now. I am also swollen with pride in the fact that I have been able to keep my children in the same school district, with their same peers throughout their school careers. Sarah graduated in 2008 at the top of her class with the same students she went to kindergarten with. Alex is about to begin high school and also has some of the same acquaintances he has known since preschool.

I think some people take for granted just how lucky they are to live a stable life and have the opportunity to build lasting relationships. I have very few. Fortunately, I do have Glenn. Glenn is my best friend in this life. I love him more than he may even know. He has never wavered in his love for me and I find that extremely admirable. He sees in me what I do not see. I am blessed to have him and the home life he has helped create for me. I don’t always show my feelings and have a real difficult time trusting people.

All I ever wanted in this life was a stable family stemmed from love. I now have these things, but still have days where I think I don’t deserve what I do have. I know it comes from that sad little girl inside that doesn’t feel loved or of value. I know that is not me anymore, but sometimes, just sometimes, when I am having a weak moment, I feel like that sad little girl all over again.

Thank God for Glenn, Sarah, Alex and this stable life I am now living.

The Day I Met John Mayer (and his band)

John Mayer and I
Alex and John Mayer
Brad Mason
Chad Franscoviac
David Ryan Harris
JJ Johnson
Robbie McIntosh
Tim Bradshaw
Sarah and John Mayer (kinda) complete with cool autograph
Our Front Row Set List







July 24, 2008 - Thursday
My Meet and Greet Experience
Current mood: excited
July 23, 2008
Paso Robles Ca
Mid State Fairgrounds

I arrived in Paso Robles early in the day so that I would be able to scope out the situation and have no chance of missing out on my big opportunity. I asked the Will Call girls to confirm the meeting spot and felt that I had a sound plan. So prior to 6:00 pm, my son, Alex, and I met at the appropriate spot and introduced ourselves to the two other L-83 members who were waiting for Lauren. They were true die-hard fans and we all felt an instant camaraderie.

When the time came, we all received our programs and instructions from Lauren and proceeded to make our long walk through the crowded fairgrounds to the main grandstand where we then saw the other two winning groups. We were told that the radio station and Blackberry contest winners would have their time only after ours, since the fan club was scheduled to go first. We were then led through the grandstand where our tickets were taken and torn and we were told that after the meeting we could not leave the venue for the fair if we intended to return to the concert.

The area we were brought to was just off the side of the stage and Lauren informed us that it was the only open space that did not house livestock and our meeting would be somewhere around here. In the meantime, the L-83ers were separated from the other groups and this lady came over and asked us to "huddle up." She was really cool and seemed like a deadhead kind of girl. She made sure we were all paying attention and then asked the L-83ers to identify themselves by raising hands. She then asked how long we had all been members and where we buy our concert tickets. She asked if we ALWAYS buy our tickets through the fan club and it was a unanimous yes. She then introduced herself as the ticket fairy and asked if we had heard of her. My heart leapt and I knew that something really cool was about to happen. She asked all of the members where their seats were located and the first two sets of people asked had second row, so she was content with that. She found that the last three sets of members, myself included, had rows 5, 8 and 9. She then opened up this little fanny pack and took out an envelope and pulled out the top 6 tickets from a stack and asked us to give her our tickets and she handed us new ones that turned out to be the 6 front row center tickets. I felt like I had just won the lottery. We all started screaming and jumping up and down like little kids.

Next, we noticed the band members hanging around the tour bus and one of the members (the first one I met that day) was so enthusiastic that he gestured to DRH for a picture and unbelievably he walked right over and took personal pictures with our group and signed autographs for us all. He was so incredibly cool and personable. The same scenario pretty much played out with Robbie, Tim, J.J., Brad and Chad. Chad was a bit hesitant to sign our programs but we assured him that we loved him equally. It was so amazing and helped pass our waiting time. It did however increase the anxiety and nervousness, but it was all good. Lauren said that she had never experienced a meet and greet like this one. She said that the band members said that usually the fans are not interested in them, and she told them that the L-83ers were most definitely interested in meeting with them. I think they all were flattered in the end as to how much we knew about them and also that they were easily recognized. I was impressed at how friendly and approachable they ALL were. It felt like a dream, and we hadn't even gotten to what we had come for: our chance to meet John Mayer!

After about an hour's time, we were led a little bit further up, close to the tour bus and John came out between the buses. I knew it would be quick, so I was trying to follow my own advice and absorb and soak it all in. Alex and I were 7 & 8 in a line of 10. When Alex's turn came about JM kind of smiled, I think because he is a little boy and also very poised. He asked his name and Alex replied, "My name is Alex Rogers, but I would like you to sign something for my sister since she could not make it" He then pulled out Sarah's painting and John said, "Oh WOW, oh wow" and asked Lauren to take a picture of it up close so that he could remember it. He actually said, "I want to remember this." Alex then gave him the color copy of it that was autographed to him from Sarah. He liked it. It was almost my turn and I was fumbling to get out the posters that we had signed last year and as soon as he saw them he said "Oh, I remember those, I pulled those right out of the front row last year." My heart filled. I said, "These are for you," and he said, "Oh no, I couldn't, I already have so much stuff from fans." Alex said that he said it in a joking way. I then said, "These are not the originals, these are copies for you," and then in his silly way he said, "Well OK" and took them in the tube that I brought. At that point he handed them off to his personal collector and I stepped up closer with my Holiday Charity Revue lithograph. He asked my name and I replied "Lisa" he then said "Hi Lisa" and I asked him if he could sign my poster to The Rogers Family since we all love him. I was calm until that moment and when he was writing I started to feel nervous because I couldn't make my mind and my words work together. It was all very surreal at that particular moment. I then pulled it together and said "Thank you for being so gracious" and he smiled. I then said "Your music never lets me down," and he said Thanks for that." I then said, "Have a great show" and he said "You too." As I was walking away, I said "I will; I met your ticket fairy!"

I then met up with my new friends and we sat in the front row. Alex and I had the best show ever. I was able to get a lot of really great shots and I do not think that I will ever top this. It was truly a Mayer Holiday and I will remember this day forever.

I'm in repair, I'm not together but I'm getting there

At least I have Glenn to believe in me even when I lose belief in myself.


Who knew?


I am having a life crisis and feel immobilized.

I have worked incredibly hard to get into this "exclusive" internship program that was to allow me the assistance and support of the school administration in obtaining a job and promising future. However, I feel as if I have been thrown one curve ball after another. First, the woman in charge of the program (the one with the passion) passed away the day before the summer session began. Her assistant happened to be on maternity leave, which meant that there was no direct person to contact. Then we (our cohort) were to fill out preference information for summer student teaching positions. I am not really sure as to whether anyone got a preferred selection, as I certainly did not. We all found out where we were placed just days prior to starting. The summer student teaching seminar class, that was only six weeks long, was led by THREE separate instructors. Apparently, no one could or would commit to a six week class that only met once a week. Am I three for three so far?

We all worked incredibly hard, squeezing in a semesters worth of work into a six week session. Twice a week even working fourteen hour days, all in the hopes of obtaining a fall placement position. It seemed the hard work was worth it, at the time.

The real bummer came at the last fifteen minutes of our very last class though. It went something like this, "Unfortunately, all of you will not be able to find jobs and you will need to commit to another route of obtaining a credential. Here are six different outlines of consideration. You have until next week to make a decision."

WOW!! Big time suck.

What happened to, if you are unable to secure your own position, we will help you?

I am heartbroken as I really busted my ass to meet all of the criteria in order to secure a spot in my "exclusive" program. It seems that if something appears too good to be true, it most likely is... Stupid, gullible, me.

I suppose the only thing I have going for me at this point is the fact that I do have an established relationship with a school district of choice. I have been in contact with them regularly and kept abreast of all the changes. I did go on one interview so far, but they chose another candidate.

I am still saddened by this entire situation. This was supposed to be life changing for me, something I have been looking forward to for months, years even! To be the first person in my family to obtain a degree somehow doesn't seem so special anymore. I am beginning to doubt myself and wonder if I am even destined to pursue what I thought was my life dream.

I feel broken.

My program has let me down.

At this point, I can only be saved and remain in the program if I am to find my own position, and it seems that teaching positions are hard to come by now with our economic crisis. I really do not know what to do. Maybe I should just find any old job to make ends meet. Maybe I was never meant to do this in the first place.

I have gone from feeling really great about myself for getting into the program to feeling like a loser.

I really need something good to happen.

Maybe John Mayer will move in next door and I could forget about all this shit.




Too many shadows in my room
Too many hours in this midnight
Too many corners in my mind
So much to do to set my heart right
Oh it's taking so long I could be wrong, I could be ready
Oh but if I take my heart's advice
I should assume it's still unsteady
I am in repair, I am in repair

Stood on the corner for a while
To wait for the wind to blow down on me
Hoping it takes with it my old ways
And brings some brand new look upon me
Oh it's taking so long I could be wrong, I could be ready
Oh but if I take my heart's advice
I should assume it's still unsteady
I am in repair, I am in repair

And now I'm walking in a park
All of the birds they dance below me
Maybe when things turn green again
It will be good to say you know me

Oh it's taking so long I could be wrong, I could be ready
Oh but if I take my heart's advice
I should assume it's still unready
Oh I'm never really ready, I'm never really ready
I'm in repair, I'm not together but I'm getting there
I'm in repair, I'm not together but I'm getting there

Old Friend, Long Walk, Great Talk

Ever notice how there are some people that you may not have seen for eons, yet upon meeting again, it feels as if you’ve not been apart for so incredibly long? That was the case today.

Recently, by the use of modern technology (of which I consider myself challenged) I have been fortunate enough to reconnect with some really great people. One of whom has agreed to be my new walking partner, as we are both on the weight watchers quest to lose weight and reclaim our bodies and minds.

The plan was to meet halfway at Shoreline Park this morning at 8am (an ungodly hour for me on a weekend). However, yesterday while out running a bazillion errands, the weather turned cloudy and actually began to sprinkle and I thought “Holy crap, it is June in California, what is wrong with this picture?” It also remained cold, cloudy and windy for the rest of the day. I was thinking that it would rain on my parade, so to speak, and I may have to cancel my pre-planned walk with this super cool chick that I was looking so forward to meeting up with. I even messaged her last night to share my weather concerns. But much to my delight, when I awoke this morning AT 6:30AM, the sun was shining, and I knew it was going to be an excellent day!

She was on time, as was I, and we were able to walk, talk, laugh, share, reminisce, and actually make some upcoming fun plans. We walked for about an hour at a fairly good pace, so I am sure we walked at least three miles. Next time we plan on bringing a pedometer. It was so much fun to meet up with someone that is so outgoing and true. I thought that she had not changed one bit, except for age and wisdom. It is so strange to be in my forties and realize that I have friends that I have known for decades. It is also comforting to know that people that I have not seen in over twenty years have not changed much, which leads me to thinking that these are the good ones, the keepers that were true to themselves from the start, never trying to be something they are or were not, but rather just being themselves. I LOVE THAT!

There were a couple of things worth mentioning that stood out for me. The first was the fact that we both agreed there are some people that have a distorted view of themselves. What I mean by this is the people that actually believe they are fat when there is no way in hell that they are. It seems my friend and I have the opposite affliction. We both established that we are the people that think, “Hey, I look pretty cute in this,” or “I look really good tonight.” But when looking back at pictures and realizing “Oh my God, is that what I really look like?” is a startling eye opener. It sucks. We are doing something about it and creating a positive change.

The other funny thing that happened this morning was that near the lake there are hundreds of Canada geese and they are MEAN! Not only did we have to dodge goose shit along the path, but near the lake it looked as if we came upon their prime spot and they were migrating to the water from the shore in fairly great numbers. Although we both hesitated to pass or even get closer, we joked “what is the worst thing that could happen?” and my friend confided in me her fear of birds, (and these were large MEAN birds). We decided if we had to we would run, and she said “if that happens, it’s every man for himself.” I agreed and we proceeded onward. It went well and we passed safely. It wasn’t until later when we came across several more shoreline geese when one of them actually HISSED AT US. He opened his beak, stuck out his pink tongue and hissed at us. Oh my fucking God, never in my life have I been hissed at by a goose, a Canada goose in the USA, mind you. Asshole goose! So we did what any other smart girls would do, and got out of its way. We crossed the brush and left the trail to an upper trail that was not along the lake. No matter, we were there to walk and talk, right? Well, not too much farther, we met up with another mama goose and her brood. As we approached, she was in the bushes and clearly nervous about our getting close. She then moved around towards the front of her babies and also hissed at us. My friend and I giggled nervously, but we were clearly being challenged by a goose. The mama goose even bowed down her head as if to say, “Bring it on,” and she was scary. We stopped in our tracks and had to determine what to do. We considered running past, but concurred that that would only threaten her all the more. Imagine, two middle-aged weight watchers just trying to run past her might appear to her as if we were trying to get her or something. It could have gone horribly wrong. So, in the end, we backed down and once again found a trail crossing the brush, back to the shoreline. We backed down to the mama Canada goose. It seems so sissy now, but here she is:

This beautiful time with my friend was not over yet. We walked back to the Lakehouse café and opted to have a nice latte together. We sat on the deck out in the sunshine and were able to indulge in some great conversation and laugh about our first walk together. I hope to have many more. Thanks friend, you are the best.