I can’t believe it’s been half a year.

I’ve moved a lot; I think I’m up to 14 times in the last five years now. But this last move was probably one of the hardest for me because I had just spent the previous year in a new city, trying to make friends, learning a new job – and I knew I’d be doing it all over again.

But never fear because sixth months later, here I am alive and well! I have my own apartment, I write and edit for an awesome community and I’ve even made friends.

So, happy half year to me!

Just because I'm a girl people assume that I can iron.

Honestly, I own a $6 iron and no ironing board. I also do not own that spray stuff that one is supposed to use while ironing. I iron over a towel on my kitchen bar. The results?

I don’t know, you tell me, does it look like I ironed today? I can’t tell that much difference.

Just because I'm a girl people assume I can keep a plant alive.

As for plants I either drown them or neglect them. Every day I run back into my apartment to tilt the blinds so my plants will get some sun, but one of them refuses to live.

Stupid evil plant.

Just because I’m a girl people assume I have good style.

I wear what I want.

In Jersey my standard weekend grocery shopping attire consisted of aqua blue sweats (the kind that cling to your ankle), navy ankle snow boots (that looked like slippers), a pink puff ball North Face coat and a red, black and white beanie hat with a ball on top.

“Lisa, you’re wearing that?” my roommate would ask.

“Yup.”

“OK, just checking.”

She’d always tell me when I looked ridiculous, but she’d still go out in public with me. Now, that’s a true friend.

Jane Austen wrote in Mansfield Park, “We have all a better guide in ourselves, if we would attend to it, than any other person can be.”

I’ve kept journals for a decade. Pen to paper is liberating – there is no spell-check, no auto correct grammar, and no rules.

If I want three dashes and an ellipses, well then, - - - … that’s my call.

Regardless, I think what Austen writes is true. Whenever I go back and read over situations from within my own life, I start to realize signs pointing to the conclusion, that at the time, I was unaware existed.

Maybe someday, I’ll heed Austen’s advice and actually listen (or attend) to myself. Who knows though? Hindsight is 20/20.

Until then, it’s a mystery and I’m OK with that too. Who wants a guide all the time anyway? I enjoy wandering too much.

I haven't painted since eighth grade when my dad and stepmom added onto our house. The house was covered in a blue tarp, which is all fine and good and tacky enough--before the rain set in.

My memories of DIY projects consist of taking a broom and standing on a ladder to push the tarp-tent-like thing up so the water wouldn't weight it down and collapse the house.

Then the painting that followed turned out interesting.  My room was bulldozed and I slept in another room that had no door. The whole addition was definitely an early test of patience.

A decade later, my memories taught me perfection is a distant dream. So, this time around I shot for what would make me happy. (No door and a blue tarp does not make me happy, but a lil Radiant Red could brighten any day, right?)

I've wanted a red wall for years and I almost didn't do it. But I'm so happy I did.

Though the DIY project was a bit, well, messy, it makes my apartment feel even more like home. Annnnd, as Dorothy taught me at a young age "There's no place like home."

But then again, why should it be? That would be too dull, right?

This weekend I decided to throw all my efforts into my new apartment and I knew it wouldn’t be easy.

There were many battles:

Lisa vs. Drill

Lisa vs. Paint

Lisa vs. heavy objects

Lisa vs. many shades of red

Lisa vs. laundry

Lessons learned:

Don’t throw away old sheets before you paint, then you’ll have nothing to use as tarp and red paint will inevitably end up on your white carpet.

Do not turn the drill on while grabbing the bit – those things are sharp.

Don’t fill a box to its full capacity – when you lift the box, suddenly your pride in using space efficiently will disappear.

When picking a theme color, be flexible. Reds never match so learn to incorporate lots of variations and pray that the overall atmosphere reflects your “design attempts.”

Don’t take on too many tasks at once. When painting, moving furniture, organizing, hanging, washing dishes, washing clothes – something is bound to get messed up.

As a result of the destined mess up, which I should have assumed would happen, I either need to lose about 15 pounds or say “Bye, bye favorite black skirt of mine.”

Apparently, the dryer did not appreciate my multitasking abilities. Nothing is easy...

Last week as I started my move to my new apartment my little brother and sister "helped."

Reed organized my pantry by packing everything so tight on two shelves instead of five that I couldn't see what I even owned anymore. Then, he discovered a new fun game called "Lisa's closet."

"Lily, you can't come in here," he said to my sister. 

Oldest trick in the book. 

"LISAAAAAAAAAAA, Reed won't let me in, I want in the closet I want in the closet!" she started to scream.

OK my apartment is not large enough for this madness.

"Lily, come hang out with the girls, we're cooler anyway."

Then we high fived and said "GIRL POWER."

I think the whole episode was best summarized when Lily ran into my bathroom and said, "Where are your kids, is this where your kids are going to sleep?"

"Lily, I don't have any kids."

"Why not?"

I was not about to engage in the "why game."

But, in my mind, I thought, well, I don't want to play the "why game" at this point in my life, Lily, and that is why I don't have kids right now.

Today we told my colleague that kids in Texas get a "fair day." She couldn't believe it.

I grew up with "fair day," so I never thought it was all that strange.

But now, I can see her point. Texas is a bizzare place. But hey, I think the fair's a worthy excuse for a day off, eh?

In Boston I didn't even get a day off school during a blizzard.

There's something seriously messed up about regional differences... but they are always entertaining!

I automatically built a lot of flight time into my college career when I decided on Boston University, or should I say, flight mishaps. Tornado's, blizzards, cancellations, thunder, lightening, not enough people, too many people, missed planes, late planes… you name it.

I believed that last Thursday would be different than previous experiences. But why would it? For starters, I had a ride to the airport, something I rarely had in Boston or New York. I would take the T or the subway to a bus and so forth, or suck it up and pay $50 for a cab. But this time I had a free ride, how bad could things get?

Don’t test existing patterns. Lisa meets airport/travel and wait for mayhem to occur.
I arrived at the airport around 5:10 p.m. for my 6:50 p.m. flight.

The flight was delayed. Typical.

Little by little American Airlines increased these delays, never informing us that the plane we were supposed to get on was not even on its way.

I bought a David Sedaris book and read for a bit. Then, I went to T.G.I.Friday's and sat at the bar staring like a puppy at the people beside me, across from me, anyone who would make eye contact.

“Please talk to me, I’m bored. Please talk to me.”

Finally, I initiated conversation. And, go figure I met a PR lady who actually works often with our McKinney editor.

“Yes, common ground. Something to discuss. Go team!”

On all sides were “flight wanna-be-ers” who decided, well, sitting at the faux Friday's was better than sitting at the gate.

American cancelled my flight close to midnight. My phone was dead. I had no car and no ride. The airline people sent me running (and training) from terminal A to C for another Kansas City flight, which of course, couldn’t accommodate all the passengers from my cancelled flight.

But I wasn’t angry, yet.

After the other KC flight departed, the man at the ticket counter said the airline would not comp our hotels/motels.

 “The cancellation was weather related,” he said.

“But right after you cancelled my flight to Kansas City, you let another one depart, how is that weather related?”

He noticed the tone switch. I was no longer sweet little Lisa, I was angry -- on the verge of becoming hysterical -- Lisa.

“Little mamma, calm down. Calm down, little mamma.”

Oh no he did not just say that.

I flipped out. Unfortunately, I still lost the battle, who am I to a huge corporation like American Airlines?

I guess, according to American's empoyee, I’m just a little mamma. 

After a late night shuttle ride, a night at Super 8, and a new charge on my credit card, I eventually made it to Lee Summit Missouri for my great-grandmother’s 100th birthday.

Rebecca, my roommate from the last two years (both in Boston and Jersey), flew to Dallas last night to see me! I haven’t seen her since May 12 when I left LaGuardia for DFW to work here at neighborsgo. It’s her first trip to Texas… and this is what I have planned so far:

Blue Goose – only my favorite TEXMEX in the entire world.

Nick and Sam's Grill, or La Cubinita, or Taverna, -- Sunday brunch

Spiral -- for my veggie friend

top golf-- hit golf balls off the second floor/roof and order a bucket of beer, munch on food... what more could you ask for?

Rahr in Ft. Worth ... and apparently other schemes in Ft. Worth which I know not of… but we are guaranteed a good time because now lots of people are involved?? Oh yah, and it might involve a cattle drive.

Joule – because the publishing company Rebecca works for wrote about it!

DMA – Thursday night social

Nasher?

Labor Day pool party – self explanatory, really!

Sunday Funday

North Park Centre -- shop till you drop! legit. Love it. This is where I will be depositing Rebecca on my lunch break today and leaving her to her own devices until I can leave work and pick her up.  

Uptown – shop, eat, walk around… maybe it’ll remind her of Newbury Street in Boston, just um… less old?

Suggestions for other fun itinerary items? Do share!

Interning at his office in Boston was not just exciting, it was also exhausting. I was the youngest intern in the office and constantly terrified I was going to mess up. I was a press intern, which meant I worked under Sen. Kennedy’s deputy press secretary Keith Maley.

The first time I met the senator, all the interns had gathered in his office that overlooked Boston Harbor. He sat down and chatted with us about a bike trail he was working on in Cape Cod. He was really excited about this bike trail and kept telling all of us that we “had to visit.” At the time, I’d never even stepped foot in Cape Cod.

After a while, his staffers motioned us to stand up and leave because the senator had to go somewhere.

I thought to myself, “There’s no way I’m going to stand up while the senator is still talking to us.”

All the interns nervously shook our heads, “No, we’re not getting up.”

Eventually his staff intervened so the interns could save face.

I was pleased with this result.

Sometimes Kennedy would bring his dogs to the office. One time he was presenting some sort of award or medal to veterans in the conference room and the dogs were running about the office. I sat in my desk looking around wondering if any one else thought it was odd, but they were used to it.

So, I did what most insecure interns would do: I looked confidently at my computer as if there weren’t hyper dogs running around to distract me and as if it wasn’t weird that a senior senator brought his dogs to the office.

From Katrina, to heating costs, bird flu and a Supreme Court Justice Nomination – the fall of 2005 was a busy season in an interns’ eyes.

In all seriousness, I learned a lot, and all my experiences with the senator were positive.