Journal in a Jar 02.09.10 ~ Wedding Day

Describe your wedding day

I was seven years old the first time I saw the Glass Chapel (Wayfarer's Chapel) in Rancho Palos Verdes. I stood on the stony path that winds around the chapel and watched a wedding. The sunlight, filtered by trees and branches, streamed in through stained glass, onto the bride. She was stunning ~ all smiles, light & tears in her eyes. The whole scene was beautiful. It was then I knew that's where I wanted to get married. I've been to weddings all over this town, this state, this country ~ in churches big and small, in backyards, on beaches, in Vegas. All beautiful for the couple getting married at the time. For me, anytime I imagine my own wedding, it's at Wayfarer's Chapel.

As a teenager, I used to listen to a Riverside radio station called KOLA. Basically album-oriented rock, the station had no DJs and few commercials. This is where my *love* of rock music stems from - of course, now it's called classic rock. Anyway, I would sit with my fingers poised above PLAY and RECORD in order to catch some of my favorite songs. Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen was one of those songs. I sat with my headphones on, listening to Bruce hitting PAUSE then REWIND as I tried to figure out the lyrics - of course now, I just Google it. "...I'll love you with all the madness in my soul..." My teenaged head and heart wrapped around this song like a vine. My teenaged head and heart ached to have a love like that, to feel love like that. My teenaged head and heart romanticized and fantasized, finally settling on Born to Run as my wedding song. No joke. I was vindicated and validated when I read in Tiger Beat that Matt Dillon wanted the same song played at *his* wedding. For 3 days, I figured Matt and I were destined to be together.

Throughout my life, I've had three different recurring dreams. One of those dreams started my junior year of high school, continued through my first year of college, stopped then restarted when I moved to CSUN. The dream was my wedding. I'm walking down the aisle, looking at everything and everyone through a lacy veil though everything is perfectly clear. I stand in front of the groom, he lifts my veil and he has no face. This dream used to freak me out ~ what did it mean?! I was able to describe every single detail - the location, the people, the petals on the floor, someone sneezing (weird!); but I was not able to see the Groom. I haven't had that dream in a very long time...

Journal in a Jar 02.01.10 ~ Driving

Tell about how, when, where you learned to drive.

Driver's Ed at Ramona HS was one of the highlights of my tenth grade year. I was ready to drive. I was ready to have a kick-ass car with stickers on it. I was ready to have a taste of freedom!

For one semester, we had classroom instruction as well as 'simulator' training in a trailer on the outskirts of the campus. Then, we had the 'behind the wheel' instruction with the meanest teachers on staff! I don't recall his name, but the teacher I had was not nice. At all. One afternoon, while driving in the school's back parking lot, I hit some wooden beam or whatever. He shrieked. Shrieked. I, of course, laughed inappropriately; but inside I was mortified! Blah blah blah...I passed. Yay!

I went one day with my dad to the lower RCC parking lot to practice driving. Guess I scared him because my sister took me driving after that. Guess I scared her because my brother-in-law took me driving after that.

I was a pro driving the RCC parking lot! Like most other new drivers, once I hit the street, I was too scared to drive faster than 30 mph. I got in a lot of practice; became a pretty good driver.

And that was it.

Dad had lost his job when Kaiser Steel closed, so a car for Rissa wasn't in the cards. Boo! There was no chance I'd be able to drive his beloved '66 Mustang (don't think I didn't ask a thousand times...). I wouldn't drive again until I got my driver's license at 18.

In a strange twist of fate, I ended up teaching drivers ed and drivers training in the late 90s. My friend Suzanne ran a driving school and she needed female instructors. I took and passed the test then started working at South Bay Driving School. It was pretty great working/driving around the South Bay during the summer - I'd always make the students drive down the esplanade in Redondo and I loved when students lived off PV Drive along the coast.

Oh my gosh - I *just* remembered a great driving story! My first car was a 1977 Chevy Nova. Yeah, I know. Within the first week or two of having the car, me, Sherry and Kathy went cruising Market Street in Riverside. Yeah, I know. But it was the thing to do! Don't judge. So, there we are - music blaring, sunroof open, my friends and me enjoying ourselves and freedom. We get to the turnaround point and I, of course, miss it. We go up one block, turn into a business driveway/parking lot and try to make a U-turn. Crunch! What the hell?! I jumped out to find not only did I hit a huge potted ficus tree of some sort but I'd actually moved the pot a few feet from its original place! I, of course, laughed inappropriately; but inside I was mortified. It's one of those shake my head moments.

I'm a pretty good driver. I have road rage issues; but that's other drivers - not me.

:)

Journal in a Jar 01.18.10 ~ Birthday Bouquet

What is your favorite flower? Why?

My absolute favorite flower? The mixed bouquet I get from my Dad every year on my birthday.

It started in 3rd or 4th grade. I was called to the office at Mt. View Elementary School. On the counter sat a huge bouquet of flowers with a HAPPY BIRTHDAY note attached. I felt so important and so proud to have flowers at such a young age!

Dad still sends me flowers on my birthday, no matter where I am. He's switched it up on big birthdays by sending roses - gorgeous sterling or apricot roses. But, to be honest, the mixed bouquets of brightly colored flowers are what I absolutely love.

Journal in a Jar 01.17.10 ~ the Name Game

What is your full name and who were you named for? How do you feel about that name?

(this post is an updated/edited version of a previous post)

My mom is an opera singer. She has the most beautiful soprano voice...anyway, her favorite singer is Risë Stevens. Now, Rise Stevens spells her name R-I-S-E with umlautmark over the E. Apparently, my mom found that to be much too pretentious, so she changed the spelling to HER liking ~ R-I-S-S-A.

The double S gets me the "Riss-uh" pronunciation instead of the correct "Ree-sah" pronunciation. Anymore, I don't correct people. I've worked with this woman named Gloria for 8 years and she still calls me Riss-uh. .

I never gave my name much thought, really...until I got a new bike around 4th or 5th grade. Every kid in the neighborhood got bikes ~ Susan, Tracy, Mary, Sara, Jimmy, Kevin, Brian, Lisa, Ricky. They all got new bikes with blue & yellow license plates bearing their names! Yep. Every last one of them had their names on a license plate. When I asked my parents for a license plate with *my* name, Mom had to gently explain there wasn't one. I was having NONE of it. She had to be lying. Somewhere there had to be a shiny blue & yellow license plate with my name on it. There just *had* to be! That became my quest, my obsession - find a mug, a magnet, a something with my name on it! In 7th grade, I actually wanted to change my name. It never really caught on

For my birthday that year, Mom gave me personalized pencils ordered from the Lillian Vernon catalog. Yeah, it was kinda cool to have pencils with my name. It didn't make up for the lack of that blue and yellow license plate for my bike. But it was cool nonetheless.

And thus began my Mom's 'signature' gift - personalized [fill-in the blank] ~ towels, bathrobes, blankets, gym bags, coffee cups, luggage, sweatshirts, back packs, car mats, car seat covers, door mats, wine carafes, wine glasses, wine. I've got personalized everything!

I've met 3 other Risa's ~ one was a friend of my Mom's, another was a classmate (and later a AST sister) at Cal State Northridge and one who works with me at Warner Bros.

I'm totally fine with my name now. Though, I never got one of those license plates...

Journal in a Jar 01.16.10 ~ Eat This, Not That

What are your food preferences? How did they come about?

I prefer breakfast at any time.
Wheat vs. White
Sushi!
Chunky peanut butter.
Grape jelly.
1,000 Island vs. Ranch
Thanksgiving dinner isn't complete without sticky rice and chicken adobo (it's a Grandma thing)
PopTarts
Burgers without pickles
Spam (it's a Hawaiian thing)
Not a fan of mushrooms, olives or any type of melon
Firm believer that pineapple does not belong on pizza
Roasted pumpkin soup over a cinnamon-braised short rib was one of the best meals I've ever had ~ courtesy of Davio's, PhilaPA
8 times out of 10, I'll choose Mexican food
CrockPot cooking is the way to go

Most of these probably developed because it's what Mom brought home. I could go on and on, but I'm already three days behind!

Journal in a Jar - 01.15.10

Write about some of the places you went with your father.

Dad used to take me to the San Bernardino Civic Light Opera for musicals. It's one of my fondest memories because it was just the two of us. The night before the matinee, Mom would roll my hair in those pink plastic curlers. Remember those? Hard plastic with the spongey middle to wrap your hair around. Oh how I hated sleeping in those things! Inevitably, 3 or 4 would fall out, leaving me with imperfect curls. Dad would take me to Sir George's or the railroad car restaurant that used to be on Magnolia and Arlington in Riverside. Then off to the show.

The first show I recall in great detail is Godspell. John the Baptist stood in the aisle right next to me, blew his horn three times and proclaimed "Prepare ye the way of the Lord!" I was spellbound; completely fascinated by the music and the actors and the spectacle of a live show. I'm pretty sure I didn't understand what was happening - until the end when they 'crucify' Jesus by tying him to the fence. I still shiver at that (Oh God, I'm dying).

Another warm and wonderful memory is Sunday afternoons at Fiesta Village in Colton. Dad would take me and Yancy...we would play video games after a round of miniature golf, then race to the trampolines or batting cages. This was before Fiesta Village added the water slide. There were bumper boats at one point, I think. Jumping on the trampolines was my absolute favorite ~ free and flying for a brief moment. Absolute joy is what I'm feeling then and now.

One last memory...oh so long ago a road ran parallel to Ontario Airport. The area was unincorporated, no stop signs or signals and fairly dark. This road had a huge dip. I loved riding in Dad's '66 Mustang, speeding along, approaching this dip in the road and yelling "Coast it, Daddy! Coast it!" He would say he was coasting down the dip; who knows if he did or not. But the speed, the slight element of (10 year old perceived) danger and giggling always made me beg him to turn around and do it again.

I'm going to call my Dad today and thank him.

Journal in a Jar

Celia over at The Girl From Mars started her Journal in a Jar writings at the beginning of the year. I asked her about it ~ it's a wonderful gift as well as a brilliant idea. She gave up her 'connection' and I got me a Journal in a Jar!

The jar contains 200+ questions to use as journal topics/writing prompts. I'm excited to start this...relive some memories, kick my writing into gear. I've already started writing in my journal; will start posting here tomorrow.

Many thanks to Tami for the jar and to Celia for sharing :)