Ms. Cheevious in Hollywood

My Zany Years Spent Working in Tinsel Town

Anti-stress

Shake Your Groove Thing

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Shake your groove thing, shake your groove thing, yeah yeah. 

Show ’em how we do it now!

Hello there you incredibly beautiful, vibrant people!  I trust after my  “Brand Spanking New – Year” post, you’ve had an incredible week, commanding your world.  Am I right?  I certainly hope so!

It has been a FANTASTIC week for me.  And I mean that in the true sense of the word:

Merriam Webster defines the 14th century word, Fantastic as:

1 a: based on fantasy : not real b: conceived or seemingly conceived by unrestrained fancy c: so extreme as to challenge belief : unbelievable ; broadly : exceedingly large or great2: marked by extravagant fantasy or extreme individuality : eccentric3fantastic : excellent , superlative <a fantastic meal>

 

By fantastic – I mean definition “c” above:  My week was so extreme, as to challenge belief. 

Ya’d think that someone who wrote with such conviction about not ascribing to the whole worry and fear campaign sweeping our nation could go on from that and have a phenomenal week – one without drama or circumstance, wouldn’t ya?

The truth is, the drama was mostly within ME.  But hang on a minute with me here.  This story does have a point – and you’ll know why I’m saying to shake your groove thang in a bit. 

It’s not that I had such an unbelievable week.  I had a week of incredible extremes – emotionally. And no, I don’t mean the girly “Do I look fat in this dress?” or “Why don’t you ever tell me you love me?” type of emotional extremes.  Those are girly extremes. I guess I don’t DO girly.  No, for me it was emotional on that same level I warned about last week.  I was extremely worried in one moment, and on top of my game in the next, fearful the next, but happy and content most of the way through.  I woke up not just one morning, but a few mornings with a feeling of incredible fear of what might happen.  I had thoughts that somehow I was not good enough to be where I was financially or professionally, or whatever. That I didn’t deserve my reality, as good as it was, and perhaps the challenges I was facing were deserved, and life as I knew it was about to change.  Everything I thought about was the antithesis of my reality, and of my normal thought patterns. It was stupefying and ridiculous, I know. 

So why would I be singing “Shake Your Groove Thing,” you ask?

All I can say is the one thing I did NOT do was lose my grip on the sense that I am better than “all that.”  On the fact that I know I attract what I want, what I do, what I say, and what I am determined to be.  I really do.  I always have.  I have watched it happen time and time again in my life – almost as though I were watching stop action film footage of the events. 

I knew all along that no matter what I FEEL, I AM the one responsible for what my world has become.  I knew I just needed to continue to stay focused, to put it out there, and to TRULY know it to be true.  I needed to be strong and make things happen.

So when I was faced with my own final challenge this week I did it.  I pulled myself up by my boot straps.  I pumped my brain full of all the things I needed to be armed with.  I surrounded myself with influential people – who would remind me of how to think.  I put my armor on (in my case it was a hot little business suit) and I went in prepared, knowing that everyone involved would be fortunate if I chose to be involved. 

Things went so well – it was everything I could have asked, and more.  So, on Thursday – the day I normally write and send this blog off into cyberspace – I went from tenuous soldier to champion within a matter of hours.  But I tell ya – it feels good to be a champ. 

And THAT, my friends, is why I am saying to “Shake Your Groove Thing!” 

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You are incredible. You are dynamic. And I am thankful for you and your thoughts. 

Have a FANTASTIC (And I don’t mean extreme – unless you want it that way) weekend everyone!

Love you people!  Mmmmmmppphuuuuuuhhhh!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

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Blog content copyright 2008, LISA JEY DAVIS a.k.a. Ms. Cheevious 

Brand Spanking New… Year

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One little statement. 

If only we could grasp the power of one little statement. 

Think about it.  If someone had intervened – and made a statement of protest – when a little Serbian company (called Zastava) decided it wanted to make cars, and then chose the name Yugo, perhaps they would have come up with an altogether better name – something really cool like Autobahn, or Millennium Cars.  And after such an intervention, just MAYBE that little company would have sold millions of cars in the United States – all because of one little statement like “Uh, hmmm.  That’s kind of a dumb name.”  Who knows?  Maybe they would have gone back into their focus groups.   That’s all I’m sayin’.  Instead the Yugo was voted Car Talk’s worst car of the millennium, and never made it past 1991 in the U.S.  When the plant closed in Yugoslavia, in November 2008, they had only sold a total of 794,428 cars.  (Of course, this is all from Wikipedia.  One can never trust that as a viable source).  But I digress.

I told my girlfriend Brit the name of this post yesterday (Brand Spanking New… Year).  She, being the bright, witty individual that she is, made this little statement, “Isn’t it a little late?” 

Whatever.  I’m not changing my post’s title.  That focus group stuff only works on big companies with no real connection to the real world!  Do you really think I’d succumb to the pressure?  PUHHH-LEEZ.   🙂

If you are new here, welcome!  Happy New Year!  Happy Brand Spanking New Year!  These posts are normally fun, I promise.  But don’t let that scare you away. You may find this one fun, in its own way.  But we, as a collective community, DEFINITELY have a lot of fun here.  Posts tend to be a little flirtatious, flippant, frivolous — anything but ultra-serious.  But today is a little different.  I’ve been away for a while – traveling for the holidays and for business.  My last post was some time ago, and somehow I am back with something that is very important to me – so I am going to address it.  Here.

I realize it’s nearing the END of January, but I’m just getting started in this new year, and from the looks of things, we all need a little mood BOOSTER.   ALREADY!

So, here I – Ms. Cheevious – am coming to the rescue, with not just ONE, but SEVERAL little statements that are meant to remind you of how GOOD you have it, and perhaps provide you that little mood booster and motivator you’ve been looking for.

It’s the New Year, and it is TIME for some house cleaning people!  You know what I mean?  New Year, New Time, New President — and now — it’s time for a New Attitude.

Think about just this:  Every day we get ANOTHER BRAND NEW set of opportunities to make something happen for the better (for ourselves and for others)!

I’m on a mission.  I would love to get a consensus of all you lovely people reading this – but I know better.  Life is short, and busy, and we all get way too many e-mails, text messages, snail-mail, bills, voicemails and every other type of communication (on multiple platforms) – it’s just not right to expect people to take a survey or answer questions in their very valuable spare time. 

So, instead of asking what you think, I am going to take a huge leap here and assume I have the answers.  Did you expect anything else?

So, what happened people? 

What has happened to our overall sense of pride and ambition? 

What is it that caused this overwhelming sense of fear, and worry and dread that seems to have permeated our beautiful country, and why is everyone succumbing to it?  Don’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about.  It’s so obviously present, you can almost touch and taste it.

What made you lose your nerve – your jutspa – your moxy? 

When did you lose the gumption to be determined to succeed, in spite of or regardless of what your friends, the economy, your co-workers, the DOW is/are doing?

THIS IS AMERICA – remember?  Regardless of what economic state, or what state of mind our country (or the rest of the world, for that matter) is in, this country – THE USA – the land of the free and the home of the brave – is STILL the best country in the world to live in.  I don’t care what other people (even famous celebrities) say or think.  We still have more opportunities, and enjoy the freedom to succeed and become whomever, or whatever we want – whatever we put our minds to – more than anyone in any other country in the world. 

How can we so easily fade and crumble?  Why does it seem like everyone is perpetuating this negativity that is invading our consciousness and our psyches?  It seems you can’t go to coffee, the drug store, stand in line at the grocery store without someone shooting a statement like this out into the air, and into my ears: “Yeah.  They probably won’t be able to hire me. It’s a tough economy! ”  Here I am.  Little ole’ me, minding my own business, trying to remain positive and determined to succeed, and I am being verbally, mentally and emotionally accosted by statements like that on a CONSTANT basis! 

Is it the rising tide of economic doom that floods our airwaves everyday? Or was it simply 2008?  Was 2008 a bad year for you? 

Awe.  I’m so sorry.  Poor Baby.  Get over it.  2008 is gone.  Bye bye. 

Okay – so I may sound like your mom, or my mom – well, hell, SOMEONE’s mom – but I remember the stock market crash of 1987.  Black Monday, October 19th.  Stories started circulating about stock brokers jumping out of their windows when the market crashed.  I was oblivious to the financial consequences, in a sense.  Okay – I was like 22 years old and had no money to put into the stock market. 

I wasn’t oblivious to the worry and fear that laid like a thick blanket over the country, though.  But hey, I was a single mom.  Allowing fear of the stock market crashing and jobs being lost to slow me down or inhibit my ability to provide a nice life for my son was not an option. 

I was in business for myself, and believe me – I started to notice.  I felt the pinch.  It took a while.  It was more like 1988, but my clients started combing over their invoices to see if I just might be over-charging them.  If there was some way to pay me less.  Some of my biggest clients really suffered and eventually even went out of business.  But guess what?  I found a way.  Things changed, and I had to adapt.  I ended up giving that business to one of my employees, and moving on to other things.  But my life went on, and things turned out okay.  I wouldn’t trade those experiences for the world, as hard as they were.  They led me to who I am today – to where I am today.

You’d think with that experience under my belt that I would be telling you a different story today.  You’d think I would be on the side of the gloom and doom that has infiltrated our minds.  I have the right to do it I suppose, if anyone does, because I have been there before.  I lost business over it before.

But I won’t promote those things.  The bad economy and all that entails has absolutely nothing to do with my own personal happiness, success, health or well-being.  It has nothing to do with yours either.

Remember those people from a few paragraphs up – the ones who said “They probably won’t hire me because it’s a bad economy”? I so want to say to them, “Yeah – you’re right.  They probably won’t hire you.  You’ve already decided your fate here. Why WOULD they hire you? Why don’t you just give up and quit talking and bringing everyone else down with you?”  I don’t mean to be harsh – but GEEZ. It isn’t just the economy, people.  WE have something to do with it – with our lousy attitudes, and the things we so readily agree to.

So – okay people.  It’s time for a reality check.

I saw a movie today that reminded me of how good we have it here.  It was based in India.  Those people live in slums.  Real slums.  And yet, they have joy.  They keep going and living, and making a life for themselves.  Sure there is poverty and sickness.  There always is, when humans are involved.

It’s just that I am awaiting the grand entrance of HOPE.  I am waiting with baited breath for the moment in time when we all feel the veil of mental worry lift from our homes, communities, cities and country.  It will be a truly incredible day when we can look back at this time and be glad we stood strong, and didn’t let things bring us down. Better yet, how much better it will be if we now, somehow find the focus, strength and determination to succeed and do exceedingly, abundantly better than ever, in spite of the current situation?  That my friends, is something I plan to do.  At least I’m working on it. 

You can do it too.  And you won’t be alone.  I tend to agree that smart, vivacious, lovely people like yourselves can accomplish anything you put your minds to.  So, do you care to join me?  Let’s conquer this, and move on to bigger and better things.

Love you people!  Mmmmmmphhhuuuhhhh!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

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Blog content copyright 2008, LISA JEY DAVIS a.k.a. Ms. Cheevious 

La Vida Loca with Angelina and Brad

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I’ve done some pretty cool things in my life.  I think I’ve been pretty lucky.  Actually – scratch that.  I STILL do some pretty cool things.  I AM very lucky!

Some might argue that while I’ve DONE cool stuff in my life, it all happened a few years ago, and I am in danger of actually becoming a has-been.  But I beg to differ.

Yes, a few years ago I lived in LA and worked with celebrities and all that, but then I packed up and moved my son and I to Aspen Colorado for a grand adventure.  It turned out to be all of that, and then some.  I tried rock climbing (thanks to my stud boyfriend), I learned to snowboard, and I kissed a girl.  HA!  Just checking to see if you were “listening.”  But hey, I feel as though I have the drive and adventurous spirit of Angelina Jolie.  She flies her own plane, ya know.  At least I hear that she does.  She also rides motor cycles, I think. I’m not sure I’d do the motor cycle, unless it was a really cool sport bike.  Maybe a motor-cross bike. That’d be cool.  And, yes, she is a multi-millionaire who’s married to Brad Pitt – but I’d never let a little thing like extreme fame and fortune create a chasm between me my new best friends. I can hang.

Anyhow, I think I still got it.  Even if in the end, I am delusional, I’m content with the action I’m getting, so who could argue with that? 

On top of what I do professionally (marketing and PR), I am a freelance writer.  And, no – I don’t just write this blog.  I actually sometimes get PAID to write.  Somehow I even fooled some people into paying me to do this stuff.  I love my life!  (OMG – I have to tell you this.  Just now, accidentally, and probably by a Freudian slip of the fingers, I just typed “I love my loaf” – which I immediately corrected – but then I realized it was too priceless.  Was it Freudian in the sense that I get paid to sit around “loafing” while I rant about every little quirk that crosses my path? Or is my “healthy eating plan” finally driving even my FINGERS to insanity, causing them to spell out in front of me that which I cannot have? ha ha)

Anyhow, a couple of months ago I interviewed Chris Cornell for the Associated Press.  You remember him don’t you?  The lead singer of Sound Garden, and more recently of Audio Slave?  Well – he made a slight stir last summer by singing the latest James Bond theme song.  Then of course there is the legendary cover he did of Michael Jackson’s Billy Jean.  That song was even covered recently – Chris Cornell style – by David Cook on American Idol, which elicited a phone call by Cornell to the show’s host, Ryan Seacrest, saying he liked it.  Interesting stuff, eh?  And you thought I’d lost my touch.

Well, the article didn’t get picked up.  So much for my CRASHING into the music journalism scene with a BANG. So I posted it on another blog i-Society.  Check it out (click the link a few words back), and leave a comment or two! It’ll make me feel important again.

If you are new here, welcome!  Normally I write fun, amusing posts of life from my own perspective.  To be quite honest, my perspective is one of intense exhaustion.  I think I just want to take a long hot bath, or get into the jacuzzi under the stars at the house in Moab and just chill for about six months.  Doesn’t that sound fantastic?  Heck, I’d even forgo the shops of Beverly Hills to relax for a good long while.  And do you know what sounds really awesome right now?  Brace yourselves.  A really nice long walk out in the desert.  Maybe even some rock climbing.  Nothing better to clear your head – that is, if you are in shape enough to trudge your fifty or sixty pound pack up uncharted (or non-existent) steep trails, landing at cliff bands that are more than sketchy.  It takes skill I tell ya.  Mad skill.

Any how, I am still traveling this week – so guess what?  No weight results.  But just remember, above all, I am a Thin, Light, Lean, Mean Machine. I am ROCKIN’ this thing.  I promise I’ll get back to you next week with my progress.  It’s been brutal trying to be healthy while on the road.  I need a valet – someone who will run to the market for me and grab some organic baby carrots to snack on when I forget to pack something healthy for the day.  They could also whip up a nice lean lunch while they’re at it.  That’s what I’m talking about:  Jacuzzis under the stars, and a valet. 

Now that’s the life!

It must be that time of month again.  Uh oh.  Here we go.

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The Monster in Me

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Let’s just say that right about now, if you’ve been reading this blog, you know me pretty well.  You know things about me that shouldn’t be known, one of which is that my cardinal weakness tends to lie in, um, well, food.  I was about to say, sweets (and NO, nothing else. Get your minds out of the gutter!) but then I remembered my Pizza diversion last week.  And then of course, there was the decadent, delicious dinner on Valentine’s night at my favorite restaurant.  Then there was tonight’s menu at Pasta Jay’s, which I won’t even go into.  Have I forgotten something? 

I don’t believe I am a food addict, however.  (Yeah, yeah.  The first stage is denial, I know).  No really. I just have this fantastic relationship with food, and I am an exceptionally relational person.  Plus I love to cook.  I’m pretty good at it too.  I can pick out the spices that grace a phenomenal dish, and daringly attempt to recreate the dish on my own – even to my own detriment. 

So, what?  My own personal roller-coaster ride exemplifies the ups and downs, mind games, incredible temptations and roadblocks associated with injecting discipline into an everyday life – especially my life.  Anyone desiring real change in their life, need only visit me here regularly to see that it requires real, true commitment and the discipline, diligence and determination to weather the storm amid seeming failure.  As my mama use to say, “Anything worth anything requires something.”

Plus, as I near the end of this stinkin’ “get healthy again, fit into my summer suit” weight-loss challenge, it’s inevitable that I encounter and come face to face with one of the countless tempting, alluring, tasty treats or “no-no” foods that call out to me relentlessly. 

Of course it’s bound to happen,  since I am so close to complete success.  Go figure.  I’m about 3 pounds shy of my goal, and low and behold this great fiend of a “thing” hunts me down.  It is the still, small voice in the quiet calm of the day that I hear as clear as a bell.  It’s the hypnotist’s chime that mesmerizes me into a dazed trance and tugs at me until I surrender, bowing at its feet.  It’s my ultimate torturer, playing target practice with my senses and disabling my ability to reason, rendering useless all cognitive and self-restraint skills.

Hello, and welcome.  If you’ve stumbled in here by chance, be afraid. Be very afraid.  You’ve just entered my own personal nightmare.  Well, okay.  It’s not really a nightmare. 

Anyone who’s ever tried to slim down, lean out or trim the fat has dealt with this very same horror:

How do we conquer our own personal food demons? 

In my case, it’s not a demon, as I said, but a monster.  The problem is, mine is not really your everyday, average-joe kind of monster.  This guy is not content to stay in my closet, no.  He resides under my bed, in my closet, in my kitchen, in the car on the way to my favorite coffee place, at my desk and anywhere else I may be trying to stay faithful to my renewed sense of health. 

No matter what I do, I cannot get out of earshot from him.  To compound things, my monster is also a shape-shifter.  In the past he took the form of a Cinnamon Sugar bagel at Einstein Brother’s Bagels on Academy Boulevard in Albuquerque, New Mexico (because no other Einsteins made them the same).  They were toasted to perfection and smothered in butter, tasting like a hot, buttered cinnamon roll. 

Then, before I got too smart, my monster shifted into a Palmier cookie from the Champagne French Bakery Cafe in Los Angeles.  The mini version, of course.  You’d think it might as well be the large one, but no, this monster is clever.  You see, it convinced me that the mini palmier didn’t count.  Therefore, I could eat one every single day. I must admit, that flaky, buttery, crispy thing was yummy.  I finally got over that one by realizing that all that needless butter “in” would only turn to fat “out,” and I needed to regard my body as a temple.  Whole grains, vegetables, lean proteins like fish and poultry were all the essentials I needed.  But it was a tough one.

palmier.jpg

Now, as I prepare to divulge the latest shifting of this devious fiend, I want you to prepare yourself too.  You are going to laugh in disbelief at how non-devious and obvious this monster has become.  It’s almost as if my own personal monster has been dabbling in Buddhist philosophy, and become a Zen-master, fooling my mind to help me reach a higher plane or greater consciousness.  The new shape of my monster is:  drum roll, please:

The Monster Cookie at Red Rock Bakery Cafe in Moab, Utah. 

monster.jpg

What kind of joke is this?  Can you believe it?  You’d think my monster was doing the old reverse psychology on me.  Was I becoming too smart for my own good, that it had to shift into something so blatant, even I would be fooled?  Or is this the universe’s way of assisting me in finally overcoming the hurdle of the latest decadent food I’ve become enslaved to? Perhaps I’ll take this little realization with me tomorrow when everything starts all over again!

Being enslaved to a Monster Cookie in Moab, Utah wouldn’t be so bad, in any normal person’s life, because most people don’t reside in Moab, Utah.  Heck, I don’t even reside in Moab, Utah.  So, what’s the problem?  Well, my pretties, I do sort of reside in Moab part-time, and it just so happens that THIS part-time session has been during my weight-loss challenge.  The hitch with this monster?  The one thing that keeps me eating them?  Could it be that they don’t have any flour, so they must be low-calorie?  Well, that’s the snare, but it’s too good to be true.

Though I’ve not conquered my demons in totality, I like to think that I conquered my monster.  Today, I actually did it.  I finally conquered the Monster Cookie!

How?  I ate every last bit of it.  I even licked my fingers and grabbed the crumbs and ate those too.  It was all for you, I must say.  I had to quiet the monster, so I could report back that I’d done it.  And the only way I saw how (in a pinch) was to eat it and silence it’s voice forever (at least until tomorrow, that is).  Now the monster is indeed in me.  Get it?  The Monster in Me?  I crack myself up. 

Now the real question is, how do I get that thing out of me without going bulimic, and can I do it before weighing in?

You see?  I did say to be very afraid.

In my defense I promise in all honesty that I never have nor will I ever cheat at this thing.  It doesn’t do me any good.  I always know the truth.  So does the scale. I won’t lie about what I eat.  I won’t lie about my weight.  I will always take responsibility for my actions.  So if, when I weigh-in tomorrow morning just before sending this, I have gained weight, I will tell you. 

Here are my results for this week.  Please be kind.  Remember, I’ve had quite a challenging few weeks.  You’d almost never know I was trying to slim down, now would you?

Start Date:  Thursday January 31, 2007
Height: 5′ 5″
Goal: 125 lbs
Beginning weight:  136 lbs
Weight after week 1:  132.5 lbs (02.07.08)
Weight after week 2: 130 lbs (02.14.08)
Weight after week 3: 130 lbs (02.21.08)
Weight after week 4: unknown – no scale! yippee! (02.28.08)
Weight after week 5:  128 lbs (03.06.08)
Weight after week 6:  127.5 lbs (03.13.08)
Net Loss / Gain this week:  -.5 lbs – YEAH BABY!!
TOTAL Net Loss:   8.5 lbs  UH HUH!

All in all, I am like the energizer bunny of healthy eating.  When my world is crazed, and life is busy, and I am traveling and buying property and transitioning in life – I could easily give it all a rest.  So many of my friends have said things like, “Give it a rest, girlfriend. You are thin. You don’t need to worry about it, especially now!” But they have always said that.  No one has ever come to me and said, “You need to cut back girl.  You’ve been eating like a horse.”  No one, that is, except my anorexic ex-husband.  I actually see this time of transition and hectic schedules, and incredible pressure to be one that demands health to stay alive and to be able to enjoy that life.  I can do this, and I will.  I know I need it and that’s what truly matters.  I will not stop trying.  Today is the first day of my greatest success. 

So tell me, who, what or where are your monsters?  What are your secrets to overcoming them?

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Shimmy Shimmy Cocoa Pop, Zucchini on the Top!

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I had quite an eventful week after chatting with you last. 

It started in Tampa, Florida, where I attended a business conference.  It’s also where I successfully fit into THE summer business suit.  Yes, that very suit.  You all know what I’m talking about.  Aside from the fact that THE suit I’m referring to has been the catalyst for this entire series of posts (regarding my urgent quest to shed 11 pounds), it’s also a part of your lives too.  You either own one, or you have something similar hanging in your closet.  It’s that one item that doesn’t look or feel as good as it use to, and yet you continue to store it in your closet.  Why?  Because of the promise of “some day.”

Some day.  We all know that nifty little “catch all” too well, don’t we?  How many times do you plan to do something, or simply envision life a certain way in the future, and yet some how, “some day” eludes even the best of planners? 

When I put MY summer suit on the first time, “some day” was no longer an option.  THE summer suit  precipitated a somewhat frenzied, yet long overdue reversion back to healthy eating habits, with the full intention of not only fitting into, but looking HOT in said suit.  And guess what?  I fit into my suit.  It looked great, and I felt great wearing it.  The shoes – not so much.  But as they say, “Fashion before comfort, baby.”

Welcome to part #263,000,432 of my series on, well, me.  And if I’ve actually fooled you into thinking that, my work here is done.  HA!  You’ve actually entered a place for people to read the stuff of an every-day life enjoyed to the fullest – shaken, not stirred.  And with a twist. It’s a place people come to read each week, because they laugh and they identify, and because we are all a little insane at times. But seriously, I am actually in the midst of a self-imposed weight loss challenge.  I will fill you in on my progress eventually.  So keep reading.  It’s very good, I promise (my weight-loss result, of course).

After writing last week’s blog post I hopped a plane in Tampa and headed to Los Angeles, California.  I am buying a condo in LA, and over this past weekend I hunted like an Amazon for the best deal, in the best neighborhoods.  It was also the day I received a call, with subsequent text messages from a sister I rarely hear from.  I was changing planes, and missed the calls and texts, but my heart leaped into my throat when I saw who it was.  My worst fears entered my mind.  I called my sister immediately to discover that our mom had suffered a stroke. 

It turns out that my mom, although 83, is doing okay. She’s a fighter, I tell ya’. But it was a scary and uncertain couple of days, which when pondered, brought to mind all the most important parts of our lives.  Forgive me if I wax sentimental here for a bit.  I know. For me, this is a stretch.  I found myself remembering my mom as my “mommy” who I loved so much as a kid – and of course, I still do today.  I really, really loved my mom though.  She was my very first best friend.  I called her ad nauseam at work every day after school.  Sometimes I would hear the receptionist say laughingly, before she actually put the phone on hold, “It’s Lisa again!”  But I didn’t care.  I needed to tell my mom what I thought about my walk home from school that day, and how funny something struck me on television, or how Billy Norton ate a grasshopper on the play ground, and “ewe” how gross was that, and whether I hated my homework assignment for the day.  She always listened and laughed and tried to accommodate my need for her over the phone, no matter how busy she was.

I realize now, without a doubt, that I never lost that best friend status with my mom, and even as she approaches the end of her time here on earth – and no one knows when that will be – she could be with us for many more years to come – I will always revere her and think of her as one of my very best of friends, as well as my mother, my nurturer and my very own special mommy.  She has no idea of the grand and beautiful legacy she has built over her lifetime, and I am a proud and very lucky part of that.

My mom was the consummate “hot mom.”  We grew up with incredible images of our mom as a youth – photos proudly displayed around our parents’ business and our home by our dad – of her in her late teens and early twenties, when she looked more beautiful than Rita Hayworth.  We knew that our mom was glamorous, beautiful, talented and incredibly intelligent.  What a role model, eh? 

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She was (and is) also very funny.  While we were growing up, she regularly did things (without meaning to) that cracked each and every one of us kids up.  We had so much fun around our house, we were taught that life was to be enjoyed.  And my mom is responsible for that.  She showed us all how to have fun or to look on the bright side, no matter what the circumstances.  She modeled it for us as well. 

Thinking about my mom like that truly reminds me of being a kid. 

It makes me remember simple things like wanting to learn to jump rope.  My mom took me out to buy one, because she understood. I remember working so hard at it so I could jump in with the other girls on the playground at school as they jumped to all the different chants and rhymes, like this one: 

Down, down baby, down by the rollercoaster,
Sweet, sweet baby, I’ll never let you go,
Shimmy shimmy cocoa pop, shimmy shimmy rock,
I met a girlfriend, a triscuit, she said a triscuit, a biscuit,
Ice cream, soda pop, vanilla on the top, 
Ooh Chelley, walking down the street, ten times a week,
I said it, I meant it, I stole my mamma’s credit,
I’m cool, I’m hot, sock me in the stomach or forget it.

Remember those types of meaningless games we’d play over and over again?  Okay, maybe it was (or is) just me.  But I have to admit, it was a carefree time, in the biggest, truest sense of the word.

And now, I find myself at a loss for funny words to describe my challenges of weight loss this week.  How does one mitigate the seriousness of life, with its very trivialities?  I guess that staying fit and lean, for me is not trivial.  It’s a matter of life or death, and the ability to enjoy that life that is so precious!

This week for me was all about survival, I suppose.  Not in a sad sense, but I just found it challenging to stay awake!  I was exhausted the entire trip!  But I did have some fun in LA, like seeing The Color Purple (INCREDIBLE), and going to the Clipper’s game (thanks, Bill!).

I suffered the usual missteps, like being served regular coffee instead of decaf (BAD thing to do to me), and feeling so shaky and almost hypoglycemic at an airport that I ate an entire large slice of pizza, only to arrive home and eat a giant cinnamon role at Zele Cafe – not to mention eating the remainder of a Cadbury Dairy Milk bar found in freezer when I returned home!  Now that’s WILL POWER  my friend!   

I can, however, leave you with this:  I stuck with it.  I could have hung it up, especially after that big pizza, pastry and chocolate day, and allowed myself a few more days lacking self control, but I didn’t.  I had to make the conscious choice NOT to.  It was also difficult staying on track in strange cities, at hotels and in airports.  I did what I had to do.  I went to the local grocer and bought organic baby carrots, I brought my favorite bite-sized chocolates with me, and I was a complete nuisance to waiters at restaurants (okay – that last one is always true – but I just love making up my own healthy menu item – without butter or oil, please).

I even blamed my hardcore antics on you guys! It was a real convenience, so thanks! Ha ha.  I only used it as a last resort, but I said something like, “Nope.  Can’t have it. I’m on this weight loss challenge with my blog, and I have to report my progress every week.  Sorry!” I know, it’s bad, but hey, whatever works!

My results for this week:

Start Date:  Thursday January 31, 2007
Height: 5′ 5″
Goal: 125 lbs
Beginning weight:  136 lbs
Weight after week 1:  132.5 lbs (02.07.08)
Weight after week 2: 130 lbs (02.14.08)
Weight after week 3: 130 lbs (02.21.08)
Weight after week 4: unknown – no scale! yippee! (02.28.08)
Weight after week 5:  128 lbs (03.06.08)
Net Loss / Gain this week:  – 2.0 YEAH BABY!
TOTAL Net Loss:   8 lbs  WOO HOO!

It just goes to show that persistence pays off.  If you’ve set a goal that seems difficult to achieve, don’t give up.  Keep your focus and stay determined.   You’ll get there. 

So many of you wrote me emails over the last two weeks asking what I am doing to lose the pounds, exactly.  Don’t forget that the first week of my diet is posted on my website for all to see.  Check it out.

Have you instigated your own “challenge” lately?  Are you trying to achieve a goal in an area of your life?  Hit reply to post and talk about it!  Be comfortable in your own skin, and have a wonderful week!

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Blog content copyright 2008, LISA JEY DAVIS a.k.a. Ms. Cheevious

Wherever You Go, There You Are

by

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It’s January, 2008, and as the snow dumps at record proportions outside my window in Aspen, Colorado – I am reminded of a little trip I took last fall.  It was just before the first snowfall, when the leaves were still turning gold, and the crisp evening air required lots of layering, warmer sweaters and all the yummy snugly apparel that makes one anticipate the fall.

It all began on Thursday, September 20, 2007, when I packed up my car and headed west to Moab.

No. It’s not in the Middle East, somewhere. The original Moab (or the Moab some may have heard of), circa “old testament” was indeed in the middle east, and those Moabites wreaked havoc on the Israelites.  They were certainly a force to be reckoned with, from what I hear.

Moab, Utah, though it’s historic reputation of being home  and jail  to some surly wild west criminals back in the day may rival that of the middle eastern Moab, is not quite so infamous. These days Moab, Utah is most known for being home to the famous Arches National Park (pictured above), and for being a favorite destination for extreme sports (biking, rock-climbing and hiking) fanatics.  I have a little house there, and though the turning of the leaves that occurs in autumn in Aspen is really something to see and often awe-inspiring, I was ready to get out of Dodge.  The dew on the grass, and the chill in air was enough to scare even hard-core golden leaf fans. I just knew if I didn’t leave, I’d be dealing with the first snowfall, and I wasn’t quite ready to let go of summer!  (How far away and unfathomable that feeling is now, as the snow piles to twelve feet on the side of the road)!

Back then, I had just returned to Aspen from the Santa Barbara coast, with the sheer bliss of the ocean breeze, together with balmy, 75 degree temps and surrounded by REAL bronze tans (with salt-water-pelted skin). And with 80 degree weather still the norm in Moab, getting out of Aspen was something to look forward to!

So, I headed west toward Moab, careful not to miss exit, 182.  Not this time.

You’d think I’d know my way to my own home – even if it is a part-time residence, wouldn’t you?  In my defense, I just love a good road trip. It’s very cathartic for me.  I get some much-needed thinking and problem solving done.  I also day-dream quite a bit, but I’ve learned (the hard way) that there is a certain point on the highway when I really have to pay attention to where I am.  I once ended up in Green River, Utah and hadn’t even realized I’d gone too far!  I pulled off the highway and wondered with awe at the great restaurants and conveniences they’d built since my last trip to Moab, just a few short months ago (I am blond.  I was born that way).  Then I realized I’d gone too far and turned my car around.  I’ve never lived it down, since.  My boyfriend sends friendly reminder text messages to my cell phone, with playful comments like, “Don’t miss 182!” or “Don’t miss the turn!” because of that little jaunt.

But this time, as I drove west toward Moab, I mused about the transition from Colorado into Utah.  It was interesting.  I drove through towns with names like Rifle, Parachute, Silt, and Grand Junction.  Think about it. It definitely can conjure up some wild west sort of images.  Let’s play word association:

Rifle:  guns, hunting, target shooting, pickup trucks and beer with too much time to waste.

Parachute: blue skies, colorful parachutes, extreme sports, paratroopers, wartime, pow, guns.

Silt:  white rock, powdery rock, quarry, middle of nowhere, desolate, target practice, pickup trucks, beer, rifles, guns, hunting.

Grand Junction:  The place where it all comes together.

‘That is soooo Colorado,’ I thought laughingly, as I drove past a “Caution, Eagles on Highway” sign.  ‘No wonder everyone thinks Colorado is full of cowboys and ranchers!’  It is a tough stigma to live down.  Imagine me, Ms. Cheevious at one of the year’s most anticipated parties – lets say an Oscar party in Hollywood (work with me here – I like to dream big). Tom and Katie (tom-kat) compliment my dress, I smile and nod as I walk by and bump into Leo (you know the guy – DiCaprio), who stops me for a hug and asks where I’ve been.  “I moved to Colorado,” I say.  “Colorado? What prompted that decision?” Now, I know in this instance that Leo is patronizing me. He’s choosing his words carefully.  He’s already imagined a gaggle of cattle ranchers, and eco-nazi hunters touring the mountains in their Hummers and gas-guzzling other vehicles, and he is trying to place me in that landscape. I can relate. I LIVE there, and I am still trying to place me in the landscape!

That said, it is incredibly beautiful country. While places like Colorado and Utah may attract hunters, gun aficionados and all manner of cowboy sorts, it also attracts hard-core, serious athletes. The two states combined are probably second to none in providing training ground for world class Olympians.  The hiking, snow sports (skiing, snowboarding, snowshoeing, etc.), rock climbing, biking and more are virtually limitless, and people come from around the world to get a taste. They (Colorado & Utah) also attract their share of authors, writers, painters, sculptures – true artists – those who break away from the mold, and escape the confines or hustle and bustle of civilization in order to create something truly superb.  I think I fall into the latter group.  Yes, I like to imagine I am a true artEEst. At least that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.  I am definitely an artist – but in reality “true” sounds like a heavy commitment.  Let’s not go there.

Anyhow, we (my boyfriend and I) spent the better part of the fall in Moab.  It was incredibly beautiful with space and air and blue skies, and visibility for miles all around us.  The red cliffs that tower hundreds of feet overhead are awesome and intimidating.  What is not to love?  It was a refreshing reprieve from our crowded lives in Aspen.

In spite of all that wonder and amazement, however, I started to get a little stir crazy toward the end of our stay.  I was ready for some social time, some fun cocktail get-togethers and cultural fare. That stuff doesn’t happen in Moab – at least not for me who knows no one.  It was time to get out of there and get my fill of GIRLY time. Shopping, chick-flicks, yoga class and fantastic meals at restaurants that are not closed due to off-season.

I guess my boyfriend got the hint, (maybe it was that banner I hung over his side of the bed that said, “Help me. I’m suffocating in the beautiful scenery.”) Shortly after I started dropping hints, we packed up and returned to Aspen.

So, as I gaze out the window, and the snow continues to fall, I am reminded that we can never get too much of life’s beautiful scenery.  Wherever you go, there you are.  You know what I mean?  Make the most of every day, and above all, stay true to yourself.  You won’t let yourself down.

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Blog content copyright 2007, LISA JEY DAVIS a.k.a. Ms. Cheevious.