This is Us

Never Admit You Saw Something When You Didn’t

Published on by Lisa

Nick: Do you need the computer anymore?

Me: No, I’m done. You can shut it down.

Nick: I’m checking the weather, it looks like rain all week.

Me: That is awesome.

— wander over and point to the screen, specifically, I point to a design ad I made for the magazine I edit for which focuses on civic and political action —

Me: (excited) Hey! Did you see my design? I worked on it for several hours today. I think it turned out well. What’d you think?

Nick: (nervous because she just closed the window of my design) Sure, babe! It looked great.

I am suspicious because he looks nervous.

Me: You didn’t see it. It’s fine.

Nick: No, I did see it…it looked good.

Me: What was it about?

Nick: Uh…
looks at the screen regretfully at the blank screen

Nick: It was about potlucks.

Me: WHAT?

Nick: Potlucks.

Me: It had the word “potluck” but it’s not about potlucks. NICK!

Nick laughs hysterically at his failing efforts.

Me: What did YOU see in the design?

pause

Nick: (turns to put his arms around me and draw me into a hug that means he’s trying to change the subject) I see ‘feminism in motion.’

[‘Feminism in Motion’ is the tagline for the magazine and strewn all over the ad.]

Me: (shake my head) You are ridiculous.

Nick: I saw it! I swear, I really liked it. I just had no idea what it was about.

Ode to Nick

Published on by Lisa


Nick is man who works hard
There’s nothing he can’t do
He drills into new tasks
and does what he puts his mind to

Nick is man who works on taxes
and brings them to H&R block
But it’s Nick who corrects
the Block’s mistakes – oh, really, what a shock!

Nick is man who works on our bathroom
the sorrowful sight that it is
But Nick takes pride in accomplishment
and owns every task as his

So, cheers to you, Saint Nicholas
I’m very grateful for all that you do
Not just for the taxes and paint peels
But just because you’re you

Popcorn in Bed

Published on by Lisa

There is a gaping hole in our kitchen ceiling and it is atrocious.

Our contractor had to rip it out because our noggins were endangered of having the thing collapse on us.

So, Bob, our very own Mr. Fixit, is kind and generous enough to help us through this problem. It’s going to be finished at the end of the week. I can’t wait because every time I stand in front of the refrigerator it feels like I am about to be sucked into a huge vortex of darkness and leaky pipes above.

The joys of homeownership. Nothing is better.

In other news…

Last night was an unusual night. I had a late meeting for a potential and temporary short term job and came home around 9:30pm. I chatted on the phone for an hour or so with my lovely sister in law and figured, with a quick peak at our shut bedroom door and the sound of the space heater, that Nick was already sleeping, passed out like the old man he is.

So you can imagine my surprise as I head upstairs after I was done talking to Kelly and my phone rings. And it’s ringing Nick’s ringtone.

Nick is still out to tell me he’s on his way home. If he’s still out, who in the hell is in our bedroom?

And the door swings open and it’s bleary-eyed Nick, cell phone in his hand.

YOU GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK. WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME WHEN YOU ARE ONE ROOM AWAY?

“Oh, hi, babe. I was wondering where you were. I was getting worried.”

HEY MR. SHARPIE – I’VE BEEN HOME FOR AN HOUR.

“Really? I didn’t hear you.”

So, I give him an odd look and get ready for bed.

As I snuggle into my side of the bed and begin drifting off to sleep, Nick speaks clearly as if it’s the middle of the day, “I’m wide awake.”

“Well, this is certainly a role reversal.” I just want to get to sleep, but know it’s not going to happen.

“Maybe I should eat something,” Nick muses.

“If how I feel right now is what you felt the entire first year we were married when I kept yapping my head off because I wanted to talk, this is my way of apologizing right now and I swear I’ll never do that again.”

“I will go eat something,” he decides.

“Fine. There’s some popcorn I just made sitting out downstairs if you want that.”

Now, if you know ANYTHING about Nick and popcorn, you know that popcorn is not just another snack like, say, Pringles or M&Ms. Popcorn, in the Borchers family, is eaten in a rather methodical, non-stop robotic nothing can interrupt my rhythm, kind of way.

So you can imagine my surprise, slight annoyance when I am drifting off to sleep and all of a sudden I hear the clank of a glass (filled with sprite and ice, I’m sure) hitting the side table near our bed followed by Nick easing onto his side of the bed and I hear the back and forth of hand-bucket-stuff into mouth -hand-bucket-stuff into mouth – hand-bucket-stuff into mouth rhythm. All in the background is the distinct sound of Nick chewing the grains and fluff of salty popcorn.

I flipped over, “Are you eating in bed?”

I can’t see him in the dark but I hear the crunching continue, “Yup.”

My tiredness turns into sarcasm, “Is it good?” referring to the popcorn. I try not to think of the crumbs, particles, and oil that are going to get on our sheets or on me because of this late night snack.

“Mhm- MHM!”

With the dark veiling my face, Nick could not see me roll my eyes. I just laid on my back and waited for him to finish the bucket. It didn’t take long. For Nick to finish a bucket of popcorn, it never does.

As I heard him clap his salty hands and throw the excess on the ground because I know he doesn’t believe in napkins, I closed my eyes for much needed rest.

Sure enough, he falls asleep.

The Bliss that is Natural Light

Published on by Lisa

As much as Nick loves natural light, I’ve never seen him wear shades before.

Little fun fact about Nick: one of his favorite things in the world is natural light. He freaking talks about how awesome natural light is at least three times a month. If you add that up over the course of the years I’ve known him, that’s a lot of time spent talking about something as simplistic as the sun’s rays.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love photography. I practically salivate over natural light when I shoot photos. The best weddings photos are the ones that are shot with as much natural light as possible.

But Nick’s not a photographer. He just goes nuts over sunlight.

He, and I’m not exaggerating, does not like curtains because of this. He would PREFER a curtainless world to let as much natural light into our house as possible. When we were looking at houses to buy last year, he’s say, “Look at those windows! Think about how much natural light we’ll get.”

And I, looking at him from the corner of my eye, say, “Sure. Yeah. I mean, looks great.”

When we’re driving, Nick is usual steering while I am off in my own world blabbering about my thoughts on the Universe, whether we’ll live to see the scientific proof of another galaxy beyond the Milky Way, and all of a sudden Nick will explode, “DID YOU SEE THAT HOUSE? THEY HAD ALL FRONT WINDOWS THAT WERE HUGE. DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH NATURAL LIGHT THEY MUST GET?”

And I, again, dumbfounded that he doesn’t even get that excited over Xavier basketball or a Beanie Wells run, or a discounted oil change will reply, “Huh. Where?” I’ll strain my head, look in the rear view mirrors, “I didn’t see it. Darn.”

And just like the calm sea after a brief storm, Nick will return to his 98.6 degree body temperature. His eyes will return to their normal shade of blue-ish green, and the torrent of emotion will subside as he drives on.

So it was no surprise yesterday, out on a long walk and taking advantage of our 50 degree day, Nick says, “Guess what?”

“What?”

“It’s 5:30pm now and look how light it is. Just think – next week, it’ll be this light out at 6:30pm!”

“Yes. Daylight savings time. Incredible.” I am bemused watching him practically skip down the sidewalk like a little boy.

I remain silent, enjoying his enjoyment.

“You know,” he continues, “I don’t even know what I’d be like if daylight savings time were on the same day as my birthday. I wouldn’t know what to be more excited for.”

“Mhm,” I speculate, “I’d air on the side of celebrating existence than natural light, but that’s just me.”

I don’t think Nick hears me. He is lost to the world, absorbing his joy of the impending spring.

And with that story, my friends, I am sure you will remember to jump your clocks forward an hour this weekend. I don’t know if Nick will be able to sleep the night before from his excitement.

Our Competitive Sides

Published on by Lisa
A random moment caught when we’re both talking smack to each other, aka making fun of each other/challenging the other to an absurd opportunity to compete against each other to prove one’s superiority.  This competition has included: bowling, wrestling, corn hole, geography trivia, rumicube, beer pong, and tripoly…just to name a few.


God’s People, Just Not God’s Poet

Published on by Lisa

Nick and I pray a lot.

Each morning, we roll out of bed, stumble into the morning, and gather our life forces to tackle another Boston day of job, work, study, people….life. You know it, you do it, too.

Just before I head off to work (three flights of stairs to my office) and Nick meanders toward BC for class, we gather each other up, sit on the couch and pray.

We pray for strength to get through each day; in gratitude for our many blessings. We ask that God keeps our friends and family safe in all of their endeavors and throw in a few extra special intentions as well.

We also take turns leading prayer. Once we sit, I extend a finger and poke Nick in the shoulder and say, “YOU. Go,” signaling that it’s his turn to lead. We both have days where we are more eloquent, when we know exactly what to say and the other is moved with grace and spirit.

However, yesterday, Nick’s prayer took a different sort of a twist…

Thank you, Lord for this day. We ask that you continue to guide us in all that we do and that we are always aware of your love, your Spirit, and forgiveness. Lord, we thank you for all of our blessings, this day and everyday. It is a blessing to think about starting a family, while others are wondering where they are going to sleep tonight. It is a blessing to have options about what vocations we want, while others do not have enough to eat. It is a blessing to wonder about the course of our lives while others, uh,…others worry about getting killed by their neighbors. We thank you for everything. Amen.

Midway I ducked my face into Nick’s armpit but my shoulders were already shaking.

N: What?

L: -unable to speak-

N: What?!

L: “….WHILE OTHERS WORRY ABOUT GETTING KILLED BY THEIR NEIGHBORS?”
I was laughing so hard I couldn’t even breathe.

N: Why’s that funny?

L: You think that many people in this world are worrying about getting gunned down by their next door neighbor?

N: Well, that shows how wide your perspective is – I was thinking about the people in Darfur!

L: I am not insensitive to global issues, I was just stuck in the US-based context of prayer. I was limiting myself to thinking about our own country. Yes, you are right. People in Darfur worry about their safety relative to that of their neighbors.

N: It’s true!

L: I know. It’s just semantics. “…worry about getting killed by the neighbors…” That’s just some serious morning prayer.

How the Hyphen Happened

Published on by Lisa

The hyphen.

It stands for a lot. For Nick and I, the hyphen means long sighs from the receptionist at the dentist office who tries to spell my name and the poor pizza guy trying to pronounce it.

When I decided to hyphenate my name, it came after much thinking and long, long discussions with Nick.

I’ll never forget the months preceding the decision to hyphenate my name. Thanks to my rocking memory, this is a pretty darn accurate account of one of the many conversations that took place in the summer of 2004.

We just got done eating at Sunset Bar and Grill. We’re talking about the possibility of what are names should be if we get married. At this point, we are not even engaged. We’re just in the car, I’m driving (probably too fast.)

L: Mhm. What do you think of taking my last name?

N: Nick Factora? I don’t think so. That’s just…you know, that’s just not me.

L: Weeeellll, I feel the same way about Lisa Borchers as you do about Nick Factora.

N: Yeah. I can see that.

L: Well, we could always mix the letters of both of our last names.

N: Like a whole new name?

L: Yeah! We could create a whole new family name, based from a mixing of our old ones.

N: (the infamous skeptical tilting of the head) I don’t know.

L: Why not?

N: I don’t know, it just sounds odd to me.

L: Let’s brainstorm.

-silence-

L: I actually already have one in mind. I just wanted to make it sound like a new idea.

N: I am not surprised.

L: Are you ready?

N: I can’t wait.

L: What do you think of ‘Ratcho?’

N: (explosion) ‘RATCHO?’

L: See, we both have an ‘r’ in there. There’s an ‘a’ in ‘Factora.’ There’s also a ‘t’ in-

N: I can clearly see where the letters are coming from. That’s not really the problem.

L: You don’t like it.

N: Are you trying to say you’d rather be known – for the rest of your life – as ‘Lisa Ratcho’ than ‘Lisa Borchers?’

-contemplation-

N: Think of how horrible that would be: ‘Lisa and Nick RATCHO.’

L: Yeah, you’re right. That’s pretty bad.

And thus was born the idea of hyphenating my name and Nick staying with Borchers.

My maternal grandfather is from Spain and in Spanish tradition, the maiden name of the mother becomes your middle name. I always loved the idea of your name being a story. My first names are from my grandmothers, my middle is from my mother and my last is from my father and, now, also my spouse. It certainly is a long name, (and we’re not even including Confirmation names either!), let’s not be ridiculous, but at least I never have to worry about someone having the same identity.

In addition, while I do acknowledge the annoying (yet fortunately infrequent) burden a hyphen may carry, Nick and I both agree whole-heartedly that ‘Ana Lisa Fernandez Factora-Borchers’ sounds a helluvalot better than ‘Lisa Ratcho.’

"SOLE" Mates

Published on by Lisa

If and when Nick and I have children, we know this much is true:

S/he will have some seriously messed up feet and ankles.

Nick came home last week and his right ankle was so swollen it looked like he had accidentally swallowed a baseball and it was lodged in his ankle. A doctor and a physical therapist visit later, Nick has been given a series of exercises and stretches to strengthen it. Better to strengthen it now, the doctor explained, than to wait until you’re older and there’s nothing he can do about it.

Mhm. That medical advice sounds familiar. OH YES, I remember now – I told him that exact same thing about 287 times over the past 2 years. “Fix it now, it’ll be harder later on.”

He’s mobile and it doesn’t hurt much, but his ankle’s still pretty huge.

In the fourth grade, I had to wear orthopedic shoes to correct two extra bones in my feet. I have absurdly flat feet and the extra bones, located on the inside of my feet, can’t take much pressure and so I wore huge corrective brown shoes for my entire fourth grade year. Everyone called me, “Grandma” and I cried off and on for a year. Finally, the humiliation was too much and I put my Grandma shoes away, sabotaging my future of having any sort of a life with normal feet. If I had known then that my future husband would have severe ankle problems and by not fixing my own feet problems I would be jeopardizing our children’s future, I may have tried to stick it out with my orthopedic footware.

Despite our failing feet, things continue to go splendidly here in Boston. This past weekend, we had visitors. An old college roommate, Cara Hansen, was passing through and we met up for drinks. Nick’s aunt and uncle, Andy and Linda Meyer, were celebrating their 20th wedding anniversary here in Boston and we had a great evening in Harvard Square and stopping for a drink at Cheers.

Familiar faces are always welcome! Book soon and frequently.