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Health & Wellness

The Boobie Chronicles: My First Mammogram, Daisy Pasties, and Ms. Nippy Fingertips

November 11, 2012 by Marrie Lobel

As promised, this week, I’m thrilled to welcome Marrie Lobel in this, her sophomore installment as guest-contributor.  Her blog, Dirty in Public, is one of my personal favorites. I’ve enjoyed reading her posts over the last year or so, and I’m excited to host her once again.  Please read, enjoy, “Share” (hit the share button and post it everywhere) and Tweet about this little piece. Let’s show Marrie just how much we appreciate intelligent, articulate writing here – even if it is ever so mischievous.

And so, without further adieu, I present to you “The Boobie Chronicles: My First Mammogram, Daisy Pasties, and Ms. Nippy Fingertips.”

xoxo

Ms. Cheevious
, Editor in(Mis) Chief

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As you know October was Breast Cancer Awareness month, and this being my 40th year, I was honored {not, really} to be a part of the month long celebration by having my first mammogram. I admit that I suffered a painful pang in the pit of my stomach when I was informed that I was due for my first mammogram; the pang? How can I be due for a mammogram? I’m too young. After all, I’m not a member of any garden club and don’t own a single ornate red hat. That morning I woke up, got dressed and envisioned a large red feathered hat on my head when I did my final glance in the mirror before setting off to the doctor’s office.

Shortly after signing in, I was called and escorted into the back, where the latest in medical fashion awaited me. I undressed and slipped into the oversized, fashion faux-pas {with the opening in the front, of course} and stood there waiting for the tech to come back while being stared down by a large menacing machine from the corner of the room. After a brief wait the technician came in and greeted me warmly; which contrasted the temperature in the room. As she gave me the cliff notes on how the examination was to unfold it occurred to me that she has seen more boobies than most men ever will in their lives. The odd contemplation that danced in my head suddenly blossomed into insecurity. I began to shrug my shoulders with uneasiness at my internal awkwardness. What if my tata’s didn’t measure up? It’s one thing to be assessed by a man; it’s another to be by a certified boobie specialist…who happens to be a woman with a nice rack of her own! It was then that things got interesting.

The tata expert handed me two small daisy print band-aids and asked me to place them over my nipples. They were adorable and I decided immediately that I needed to snag a stack for my personal amusement. I had always wanted to try pasties but had never imagined that my first time would be initiated by a woman in Bettie Boop scrubs.

daisy pasties

Once the daisy adhesive body art was affixed properly, the tata aficionado placed her hand on the small of my back as she nudged me closer to the machine that had been glaring at me in a domineering manner since the moment I entered the room. Without further small talk or even a drink, I found my right breast being tenderly grasped; her nippy fingertips flipping and fondling me into position. The funny thing is I remember looking at my boob in her hand and noticing how it looked like a glob of silly goo. Between the nippy fingertips, the daisy pasties, and my goo boob it was immediately obvious that for the first time in my life my breasts were being man-handled and there was absolutely nothing sexy about it! Ms. Nippy Fingertips sweet-talked her way through the examination, attempting to ease my physical discomfort and my emotional unease. Not that any kind words can really make the sensation of your breast being pulled then flattened within a few centimeters of busting pleasant. Suddenly, without warning, Ms. Nippy Fingertips flipped the lights on bright and said I could get dressed.

What? No cuddling? No, “Was it good for you?”  Just like man…oh, wait! Nevermind.

Because Ms. Nippy Fingertips and Dr. Tata wanted to ensure my first mammogram was a memorable one-I had to immediately go through it all again; this time with the added bonus of an ultrasound. The results from my initial x-rays found something “unusual”. Now, I like being different but this is the one time when a simple; “You’re normal”, would have been just fine by me.

iStock_000019356946XSmall

Lather, Rinse, Repeat

Like some twisted Groundhog Day, I repeated all the steps, daisy pasties and all. The small talk and examination narrative were reduced to simple you-know-the-drill directives. This time all the real action happened in the back room. Still  looking hot in my hospital gown, I was funneled through the back door into another room where an exam table, dimmed mood lighting, and cold lubricant jelly waited for me. An attractive, chit-chatty woman with a bright pink lab coat suggested I flop onto the table and relax awhile. Before I knew it I was dolling dating advice with my breasts glistening with lubricant while being massaged with an ultrasound wand. I know it sounds like some twisted porn set-up but that’s just how I roll. Just me, the pink lady, and my daisy pasties had good times that day. As for the examination, I was relieved to hear that I was “normal” in an abnormal way and with that the green light was given.

As I removed the lube from my boobies I realized that a new chapter in my boobie chronicles had just closed; leaving my boobies free to wave in good health and laughter. Although I’m not quite ready to join the Red Hat Society or a garden club, I do carry the memory of my first mammogram experience as a rite of passage and my stack of pasties as a spirited memento.

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Tune in next time for a post of my secret divining…

Love you people!  Mmmmppphhhuuuhhh!!!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

Editor in [Mis]Chief

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Blog content copyright 2012, LISA JEY DAVIS a.k.a. Ms. Cheevious.

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Check out the Ms. Cheevious boutique

 

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MarrieLobel


ABOUT MARRIE LOBEL

Marrie is a Geekalicious NorCal Betty masquerading opinions about dating, sex & relationships as fact through dirty talk & wicked rants. You can read more on her personal blog, Dirty In Public and on Singles Warehouse where she is an #SWEXPERT contributor.

MORE WAYS TO FIND MARRIE

Website: www.DirtyInPublic.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/DirtyInPublic @DirtyInPublic

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DirtyInPublic

Filed Under: Breast Cancer Awareness, Guest Post, Health & Wellness, Marrie Lobel, Women's Health, Womens Issues Tagged With: Boobies, Boobs, Breast Cancer, Breast Cancer Awareness Month, breast exam, mammogram

My Life in Real Time, A.B.E.

October 14, 2012 by MsCheevious

This past week my life became divided into two eras (think, “2000 B.C.” or if you ascribe to the other label, “2000 BCE” and “2012 A.D.”).

I chose to be defined by my most recent surgeries, and the “eras” in my life were humorously labeled Before the Boobie Era (B.B.E.) and After the Boobie Era (A.B.E.). Today I’m going to share my life in real time, A.B.E.

The era titles are all part of a master plan, of course… a Ms. Cheevious, fun way of bringing attention to October and Breast Cancer Awareness Month (and in honor of my sister Mimi Larimore, who lost her battle with Ovarian Cancer – something that is typically related, genetically).

I actually wrote/talked about the creation of these two eras, and shared a special edition comical v-log about it this week on Singles Warehouse. It was a lighthearted glimpse into my life  and a couple of reasons the two eras came to be… (that post is here and you may need it after reading this one — OY: http://www.singleswarehouse.co.uk/2012/10/before-the-boobie-era-bbe/).

But shit just got really “real” for me tonight.  I can wax Ms. Cheevious (empowered, frivolous, free-spirited) all I want, but if someone brings the shit to me, well they’re gonna’ get Ms. Cheevious with a whole boat load of Lisa J. backing her up.

Just keep reading.

Every single one of us moves through our lives in our own space and time.  We know when we feel good, fulfilled…happy, and when we do not. We set our goals in life based on the memory of those feelings and the desire to be in that good, fulfilled… happy state for ourselves, our children, our lives.  I’m talking about our persons people.  We know when we like who we are, and when we don’t. We set goals for who we want to “be” (and all that entails).

We become focused on these goals… chipping slowly away at achieving them, unrelentingly.  And along that little path, the compulsion to continue the pursuit remains, even if out of balance, while the tendency to aggrandize and justify our sometimes too-fervent efforts (as altruistic and pure … for the good of ourselves, our children and our loved ones) rises up within us at every “thought” or every “someone” who would question our uber-focus toward our goals.. desires… even our efforts. Hopefully as we move along the path, we correct any present imbalance and move back to center, still focused on the prize.

Though this path of focus and sometime achievement often provides us obstacles of either our own design, or of those we meet on the path… seldom do our movements provide a crystal clear glimpse of their affect on our loved ones.

It’s no matter if determination is our sword (as it is mine) and humor and frivolity our shield (that’s mine too).  Nothing dooms the work of the sword so fast, at least in my case, as the verbal declaration of my own son of his embarrassment at the thought of being known as the son of Ms. Cheevious. His life’s dread is for his friends to connect him to “her.”

Yes. Here the happy-go-lucky “I” was, and moving through my life, chipping away at my goals, enjoying every moment… when my adult son, who is part and parcel to the journey (one of the very reasons behind the compulsion to achieve goals, to relentlessly chip away at them for the good of “him”… of “them”), made it clear he does not want to be associated in any way with the Ms. Cheevious side of me. Something about guys and the way they think, and the fact his mom is attractive, single and in her forties, or some such story… that is all he could offer to explain. He obviously knows nothing of Ms. Cheevious…

I could spend my entire life or certainly the rest of this article analyzing this. I could die trying to make sense of why on earth a website moniker, even a persona that is rooted in LIVING LIFE POSITIVELY, having FUN, the PURSUIT OF DREAMS, the PURSUIT OF AUTHENTICITY and THE EMPOWERMENT OF WOMEN would embarrass anyone.  I could also chalk it up to insecurity… or ignorance.  That he simply doesn’t know what it’s all about, who I am or who Ms. Cheevious is. That he’s basing it purely on what he “thinks” the name means, which is ridiculous.

But I won’t do that. I’d be making his same mistake.  I don’t know the depths of his reasoning. And he has his own journey. He has to choose his own sword and shield, and if they inhibit his ability to “allow” all around him to “be” who they want to be, including me… well… I cannot help him. I can only be….well, me.

I am pretty damn good at analyzing my own shit, especially if I go deep, but I don’t ever get very far attempting to analyze anyone else’s, so I’ll spare you.  All I can do is respond, assimilate, absorb and continue.  I love both of my sons. I love all of my loved ones.  I accept them for whomever they choose to be… even if who they choose to be doesn’t allow for me, as I choose to be.

And so, it is in the here and now, in real time, that I’ll spell it out for you. This is where the shit gets real:

Dammit all, but life is not what we expect.  It doesn’t come to us in the pretty package we love, that is easy to handle and comfortable for us to “live” in.  Life comes to us with a bunch of loose tools, nuts, bolts and moving parts (some with a will of their own), and we attempt to put it all together without an instruction manual.

The fact is, I am Lisa J. Davis.  I am Ms. Cheevious. Ms. Cheevious is everything I truly am and I am everything she could ever hope to be… Fun-loving, free-spirited, thoughtful, energetic, intelligent, fearless, fierce, loving, kind, giving and MOTIVATED beyond belief.  All of these traits (and so many more) are the essence of me… and the essence of Ms. Cheevious, and what I hope for any Ms. Cheevious woman.

So, if my son (or any loved one) has deep-rooted beliefs or misunderstandings of what it means to “be” Ms. Cheevious or me, and chooses to take on a fear of association without really knowing what it means… well, that, my lovely boys and girls is truly and quite simply their choice.

That’s it? That’s where the shit gets real?

Why… yes! And that is a friggin’ EPIPHANY people!  That choice is what makes those loved ones who “they” are. And I choose to allow them to “be.” To sit with that.  I may ache for a bit over their choice, knowing there is so much more that could set them free if they only tried to see beyond their paradigm…  that there is so much more we could share and love and live together, if they only could see… I can hurt for the rejection.  But I also love them without attachment. I love my son for everything that he is, for the life he is building with his tools, nuts, bolts, willful moving parts… and with no instruction manual. I love seeing what’s coming out of his life. It thrills me, warms my heart, makes me laugh, cry and shine with pride. And I will continue to do so.

But this is my life, my friends, in real time. I am Ms. Cheevious, and I always will be.

Before the Boobie Era, After the Boobie Era, come rain, shine, sickness, surgery, health, love, loss … I am very happy in my own skin. I am glad for my life, for who I am, and I look forward to the next adventure.

Bring it… because I am sticking around…


Image Credit: http://www.thinknice.com/cute-inspirational-pinup-quotes/

Now go out there and be just who you are, come hell or high water.

“Believe in Yourself & all that you are. Know there is something inside you that is greater than any obstacle.” – Christian D. Larson Quote

Love you people!!!! Mmmpphhhuuuhhh!!!!

xoxo,

Lisa Jey Davis

aka Ms. Cheevious

Editor in [Mis] Chief

Before You Go:

Please post on Facebook or tweet the below statement, in honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month:

SAVE.YOUR.LIFE. If relatives suffered Ovarian or Breast cancer, GET THE GENETIC SCREENING. #BRCA #BreastCancerAwareness @MsCheevious

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Don’t Be Shy! Leave A Reply!

Register to receive blog posts via email on the Ms. Cheevious Home page. Be sure to confirm when you receive your verification email!

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Other articles you may enjoy from Ms. Cheevious:

Before the Boobie Era (BBE) (On Singles Warehouse)

Lack of attention to her boyfriend spurs Lisa Jey’s creation of a new era! (Read More)

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Why I’m Glad I’m a Woman – And You Should Be Too

 

I’m fairly confident I could write an equally flattering post on how wonderful it is to be a man; however I’m not one. It’s great to be a chick. (READ MORE)

 

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FOLLOW MS. CHEEVIOUS IN ALL OF THESE GREAT PLACES:

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Twitter     FB      Videos  Tumblr

You can also follow Ms. Cheevious’ beau M.C. Nugget on Twitter, and NOW on his Facebook Page!

All Blog content copyright 2012, LISA JEY DAVIS aka Ms. Cheevious

Filed Under: Family, Health & Wellness, Kids, Living Life, Motherhood, Parenting, Single Moms, Uncategorized, Womens Issues Tagged With: Authenticity, Before the Boobie Era, Breast Cancer Awareness Month, Lisa J. Davis, Lisa Jey Davis, Ms. Cheevious, Pursuing Your Dreams, Pursuit of Happiness, Rejection, Singles Warehouse

The Real Boob Tube

October 7, 2012 by MsCheevious

It’s October, so I’ll throw caution to the wind and talk GORE with a spooky tale called “THE REAL BOOB TUBE.” Though this boob tube is truly bloody, scary, and horrifying, it has absolutely nothing to do with scary films or television. Oh, and you’re going to be singing the praises of my oldest offspring by the end of this article, mark my words. Let me explain.

As I write this, I’m preparing to undergo yet another surgery in the chain of surgeries I’ve had as a result of learning of my BRCA2+ genetic mutation. If you don’t know what a BRCA+ mutation is, please go here and read the article I wrote this past week for the Huffington Post. I’m sorry, I just don’t have an explanation in me right now. The way I feel, after sitting in front of the Big Screen for most of my weekend, tweeting about clients, posting about my upcoming book, writing more of said book and yes, sharing the HuffPost article and posting important messages about Breast Cancer Awareness month etc. etc. etc. infinitum, ad nauseum, I’m plain tired of talking about it.

Suffice it to say, I’ll be under general anesthesia this Wednesday, and I’ll be doing it SANS M.C. Nugget, who, wouldn’t you know, booked a couple of GREAT television gigs over the last couple of weeks. One of them takes him to HAWAII to film an episode of Hawaii Five-O while I’m being doped up and held at knife-point.  So, though I’m pretty happy for Nuggie, I’ll be over here, while he sips Mai Thais on Waikiki.

And it’ll be a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am kinda surgery. We aren’t living back in 1950, when hospitals were happy to keep you for weeks for things as minor as a tonsillectomy.  If I weren’t spending my first night at a very fancy after-care hotel, I’d be going home, left to my own devices. Yeah, since our lovely insurance companies don’t care to fork over the money to nurse us back to complete health before sending us packing, my older son will come to care for me.

Stop the presses. Yes, it’s true.  I’ll be chillin’ with my chillen’ who will care for me and my bandaged boobies through the rough patches after surgery (that is, after my first night in the very fancy after-care hotel).

Poor guy.

He’s in for a shock, because something most docs don’t tell us in “detail” in regard to surgery (but since it’s October and we’re talking bloody, gooky GORE, I’m here to help) is that often patients are sent home with “drains” (big looonng-ass tubes – aforementioned “Boob Tubes” — that empty out into little pop-open “fluid collection” receptacles). They’re there to allow me to continue oozing and goozing “fluids” to my heart’s content during the initial after-shock of surgery… all from the comfort of my own home.

They did it to me last year after my double mastectomy, and they’ll do it again this year.

I warned you. It’s going to be pure, unadulterated gore over here… a real Halloween Shriek-Fest. I haven’t really warned him yet (oops).

So, while you are all chillin’ in front of your boob tubes, my chillen‘ will be drainin’ my REAL BOOB TUBES.

Fun stuff.

Before You Go:

Please post on Facebook or tweet the below statement, in honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month

SAVE.THE.BOOBIES. If your relatives suffered Ovarian or Breast cancer, GET THE GENETIC SCREENING. #BRCA #BreastCancerAwareness @MsCheevious

And if you’d like, feel free to share this image on your Facebook as well:


DISCLAIMER: We do not own the copyright to Holly Madison in the above picture.

Thanks everyone. Have a great week! I’ll write something super fun and Percocet-induced next time. Wait for it.

Love you people!!!! Mmmmppphhhuuuhhh!!!!

xoxo

Lisa Jey Davis

aka Ms. Cheevious

Editor in [Mis]Chief

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Don’t Be Shy! Leave A Reply!

Register to receive blog posts via email on the Ms. Cheevious Home page. Be sure to confirm when you receive your verification email!

———————-

Other articles you may enjoy from Ms. Cheevious:

Why I’m Glad I’m a Woman – And You Should Be Too

I’m fairly confident I could write an equally flattering post on how wonderful it is to be a man; however I’m not one. It’s great to be a chick. (READ MORE)

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Where There’s a Will There’s A Way (Lisa Jey Davis Related 2 Minute Video)

Yes, you can do anything you put your mind to! In my case, it was to have my final surgery after my BRCA2 Double Mastectomy – which my insurance would not pay for. But it all worked out! You too can do ANYTHING you put your mind to! (Watch)

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FOLLOW MS. CHEEVIOUS IN ALL OF THESE GREAT PLACES:

FB Like Tumblr
Twitter     FB      Videos  Tumblr

You can also follow Ms. Cheevious’ beau M.C. Nugget on Twitter, and NOW on his Facebook Page!

All Blog content copyright 2012, LISA JEY DAVIS aka Ms. Cheevious

Filed Under: Cancer, Health & Wellness, Uncategorized, Womens Issues Tagged With: #BRCA, #BreastCancerAwareness, Boob Tube, BRCA2, BRCA2 Genetic Mutation, BRCA2_, Breast Cancer Awareness, Genetic Screening, Holly Madison, Huffington Post, surgical drains

4 Random Things I Didn’t Know

August 13, 2012 by MsCheevious

This post was inspired while perusing a blog by Penelope Trunk, which I happened to find through the 2011 Forbes top websites for women list. In a quick perusal of her blog, I stumbled upon a post titled “7 Things You Don’t Know About Women and Work.” It was rather interesting.  Enough so that I pinned it to Lisa Jey Davis‘ “Blogs I Like” board.

I’m not going to tell you what that article says here, however. If you want to know what it says, you’ll have to go there and read it for yourself. After you read mine.

Most articles inspire me in some way.  I see every article as an open discussion. That’s why often you’ll find comments from me (and my alter ego, for that matter) on various internet articles.  I feel as though it’s one, big, giant conversation. Hopefully one day, you will see this site as a place to have an interesting conversation as well. That is my dream for you, my minions.

Now onto topic:  Here are 4 Random Things I Didn’t Know.

1.  There is no money in writing about women. I did not know that.  I never really thought about it.  Hell, no one ever said I was going to get rich being a writer, so I’m not surprised there are categories which pay more.  Penelope Trunk wrote about how one of the first pieces of advice she was given when she started getting paid to write, was to not write about women (oops). She was apparently fired twice for ignoring that advice. Then again, she is a finance and business writer. (The website she is known for is, after all, named Brazen Careerist).

Whew. I’m safe, since I am not a business or finance writer. I am also not worried about the money. Not yet.

Plus, I don’t write ABOUT women. I write women. I paint women with my words, the way I believe they look (or should look… act… believe) in all their beauty (look at me, waxing poetic!). My goal is to show women how to “just be” and how to be happy in that. As I write, I weave each woman into a beautiful painting that both men and women enjoy. Right?

RIGHT?

2. Being a publicist is a thankless job – OR –  Hiring a publicist is a necessary evil. This one is totally random because most people are not publicists. (Scratch that). And it’s not at all about women, unless, well, you are a female publicist.  I’ve recently come to this conclusion. I didn’t know this before choosing a profession, obviously, which is probably the reason why I now find myself to be… well, a publicist. Don’t get me wrong. I love what I do. And there is job security.  Most people grow tired of this thankless, cutthroat business.  Not me. I’m an animal, and I can be a cutthroat bitch when I need to be. I was picked on by six brothers growing up, so I’ve got the moxy to come out of the ring fighting.  It’s great for now, and because I am good at it, I am successful.

FACT: No matter how much press you get for clients, it is never enough. And it is just too damn difficult to measure. If I get you on the morning news in one of the largest markets in the US, how much is that worth to you? And how much is it worth, if say, five years from now, people are still seeing that footage on youtube or someplace, and becoming clients or fans, or want to interview you for their show? The same goes for that magazine article that gets read five years laters in the bathrooms of America. It just can’t be measured. Conversely, as businesses grow, or actors/writers/celebrities gain popularity, and clothing or beauty products become all the rage, they all find that hiring a publicist is a necessary evil.  If they don’t have a publicist, there is no one to filter all of the thousands (if they are lucky) of requests, no one to protect them or do damage control if necessary, and no one to keep the machine well-oiled by constantly prodding and pressuring the press to interview or feature them.  It’s a dirty, thankless job, and I am damn good at it. I’m not loving the thankless / necessary evil part, as it tends to rob me of my passion, which leads me to #3.

3. Just because you are good at something does not mean you should do it for a living. I never KNEW that!  I thought that was the point: to do what we are good at! Didn’t we all as kids ask our parents, “How do you know what you should be when you grow up, mommy?” And didn’t all our mommy’s reply, “Find something you are good at and do that”? (Forget the fact that our mom’s answered our ‘what should we “be”‘ with what we should “do.” There’s another article in that). If you are really talented in a skill and equally passionate about it, well then, you should consider doing it for a living.  That is the point.

I am really glad I am finding this out now though. Because, it’s not like it’s too late or anything. Right?

RIGHT?

Right. That’s why, though I’m a publicist, I’m also writing a book, my blogs, articles for other websites, and producing videos around the clock. All because I love painting women, both figuratively, with my words, and actually. I may be damn good at PR and Marketing, but my passion is in the stuff I love: writing and creating. It’s all about affecting the lives of other people in positive ways. That is, until I find something else that I’m more passionate to write / create about.

And on that note, I thought this was really apropos here, because I am my own boss:

4. As we grow older we have to reposition ourselves. This one just recently occurred to me, and it’s a doozy.

I  am a marketing maven, so of course I apply marketing concepts (repositioning) to my personal life. I firmly believe, those who plan and strategize ahead of time (even in their own personal development), will be the most successful and happily adjusted. So I’m on it.  Hell I should be an expert, I’ve had so many identities.

Much of my identity throughout my life was and is tied to how I look.  It’s that way for everyone I believe. Though my type of blond, blue-eyed looks are NOT for everyone, for some reason I was not found to be repulsive to the masses. It sometimes made life easier, and sometimes it did not. Here’s a quick chronological list of a few of my identities and how they related to my looks:

Cute Figure Skater
Pretty Cheer Leader
Talented (and not too bad looking) musician/singer/songwriter (who could look pretty good in a beret)
Straight-A College Student (I was told in college that it was because of my looks they assumed I wanted to work in front of the camera doing newscasting, rather than producing.  This was incorrect.)
Wife and Mother – (The wife part – though I was considered arm candy for much of it – ended as it does for many, but even as my kids grew, I was “too pretty” to be allowed to meet my grown son’s friends).
Rock Climber / Snow Boarder / Adventurer of sorts – this was a fun one, because it was NOT expected that I, in my girlish position and “softer looks,” would ever want to be a hardcore, serious, extreme athlete.  But I did.
Business Woman – Marketing & PR (no good looks here required, but they did not and do not hurt).

Before I go on, and before someone out there chooses to write a blog review post about this, stating how obsessed I was with my “good looks” let me say this:  We all marveled at how non-attractive Susan Boyle is/was when she hit American Idol in England. We were shocked by the beauty of her voice. Why was that okay?  And why is it wrong for me to address looks as they have affected me in my life? I am the first to admit that I have flaws like cellulite and blemishes, just like every single person on the planet. I also believe that beauty is a perception. We only know whether we look good to others by the way they respond to us. So really, I could be BUTT UGLY, but because for the most part, people have responded to me as if that’s not true, I believe them. So I guess beauty really is only skin deep.  And I’m just realizing that my “beauty” is…. changing. It’s changing into something very different from what I’ve ever known.  It’s not obvious, or drastic.  I’m simply aware that it is happening. It will happen.

Here’s a realization for you, if you are at least 40: No matter what you do, how much Botox or surgery you choose to have, or how many times you tell yourself that you still look just as good as when you were 29, you are (we are) getting older. You will never look the same. Though you can laugh with 25 year olds and feel as though you can relate and be best friends or buds with them, it usually does not happen. You can be friendly with them, but you are never “one of the group” in that young 20-something group of friends.  You are the “older” friend, or whatever, and that is… good. It’s great, actually.

But what does that mean for you?  What does it mean for me?

Like I said, I’m ON IT.  I’m in the process of forming my next identity. So, what will the ME of the future, with gray hair and wrinkles look like?  Will I be the long-haired, introspective, poetic writer/novelist, with a thirst for adventure, cognac and cigars? Will I be the graceful, older woman, with a Linda Evans bob (if you don’t know who she is, please look her up from the original “Dynasty,” television series, would you?), who manages her own world in a regal manner, accepting everyone for who they are? Or will I be the silly, wildly zany Lucille Ball type, who makes everyone, including herself laugh until they pee?  Perhaps I’ll find a way to be all three?

All I know is the more prepared you are, the less taken off-guard you’ll be. I’m really okay to grow up and keep transitioning.  I’m excited to find my new cool space, where “I” will reside when I’m “older.”

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I won’t pretend that there are only four things in this world I didn’t know.  My GOD there are at least tens or hundreds, maybe. What are the things you didn’t know?  Or maybe you have thoughts on my unknowns?  Feel free to start a conversation.  I’ll join you.

Love you people!!!! Mmmmppphhhuuuuhhhh!!!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

Editor in (Mis) Chief

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All Blog content copyright 2012, LISA JEY DAVIS aka Ms. Cheevious

Filed Under: Aging, Career, Friends, Friendship, Health & Wellness, Living Life, Motherhood, Uncategorized, Womens Issues, Work and Career

The “Be the Gorgeous You In This Moment” Nugget

July 8, 2012 by MsCheevious

Last night I was sitting in front of the big screen (the “big screen” is my iMac, which tends to enthrall me to the point of complete absorption far too often) recording a vlog for the week, when I noticed that I’ve somehow developed a panda eye.  PANDA EYE people! EEEEeeee!

You know what I’m referring to.  It’s the gray coloring some people get under the eye which resembles a panda bear.  In my case, it’s only on my right eye, so I’m not quite sure what that’s about. Diet? Lack of sleep? A vitamin or mineral deficiency? I will investigate this and report back, but I do not like it at all.

If you’ve ever watched my video logs (vlogs) on Youtube, you’ve no doubt noticed I don’t show the flaws on my face, if I can help it.  I over expose the hell out of those videos to soften any – ehem – distractions.  Don’t get me wrong.  I love natural flaws! I feel very strongly that I’ve earned every single fine line, smile mark or wrinkle I have.  They are my badge of honor.

However, I like my videos to bear a certain look and feel, and those untimely, out-of-the-ordinary blemishes like, say… my new PANDA EYE – tend to be a bit distracting when watching high-def video. As I was editing my video, I found that no amount of over exposure, brightness, or colorizing would hide or fix it this time.  I was stuck with one eye darker underneath than the other.

Panda Eye Me. Yes, I checked with friends. It isn't just the shadows, and this is a over-exposed, brightened version... So yes. Panda Eye Me.

That’s when I came to the grand epiphany that will hopefully empower you: The world will accept the “me” I deliver to them – PERIOD.  They have to.  It’s all I’ve got to give them:  me in THIS moment, including any and all flaws. It may not be pretty, but it’s a package deal.

And really, as simplistic as it sounds, how often do we feverishly fret over things we have no control over?

As I sit here finishing this article up on my 47th birthday (yes, I am old enough to be your mother, your besty, your bridesmaid, your… grandmother perhaps?), I have come to the fabulous decision to be me. To LET IT RIP – as I am.

That doesn’t mean I won’t take showers or wash my face, and treat it to the glorious moisturizer bath it loves daily, or take the time to put on my make-up.  No.  It means, in any given moment, who I am is who you get!  The same is true for you!  I truly make it my life’s mission to accept people for who they really are in each moment… to see them for the gorgeous person they are, beneath the top layer, and to allow them to be authentic.

In short: BE the gorgeous you that you are, right now. Bring it. You’ve got game, no matter what size, shape, race or whatever you are.  Shadows and all.

This will liberate you. I promise.

Have a fabulous week everyone! I’m visiting Comic Con in San Diego.  Now that will surely be fodder for a ri-donk-ulously mischievous tale! Stay tuned.

Love you people!!!! Mmppphhhuuuhhhh!!!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

———————-

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All Blog content copyright 2012, LISA JEY DAVIS aka Ms. Cheevious

Filed Under: Aging, Diet, Health & Wellness, Living Life, Meditation, Uncategorized Tagged With: Authentic Living, Authenticity, Blemishes, Comic Con, FIne Lines, Panda Eye, Wrinkles

I See Ugly People!

May 23, 2012 by MsCheevious

So, I was reading an article entitled “Breaking News: Well-Known Women are Actual People Underneath Their Makeup” on one of my favorite blog sites, all about how famous women have suddenly started to brave the cameras, paparazzi and even the spreads of national magazines null and void of any and all concealer, powder, mascara, hairspray — anything…  It was an article talking about a recent People Magazine (or some other such rag) article, and how there was a huge amount of harsh backlash and mean comments about the article and the women (most notable here: Hillary Clinton and Zooey Deschanel). So I was interested to explore this subject, and dug in. While reading the article and observing a few of the most talked about photos, it occurred to me: I don’t like looking at these people that way.

Make it stop.

PLEASE.

I give up.  I don’t want to “explore” this subject any more than to tell you why this should never happen again.

Here is my list as to why I think it’s preposterous to make this into a “THING”:

1. Women look *REALLY* good when they haute-up.  Just sayin’.  I’m one to talk, as a person who barely sports face powder on a regular basis.  But I still maintain that a little somethin’ somethin’ is all it takes sometimes to hide major blemishes from the world. ESPECIALLY when I’m posing for photos, going out to greet my adoring fans (HA), or appearing in front of an audience.

2. It’s almost as if these women waited until they were a) on their period and had menstrual induced breakouts, b) having the worst hair day of record, or c) were pre-pubecently OOgly with acne and all that entails.  Hell, we’d ALL be ugly on those days. Which leads me to number 3.

3. I don’t want to see that. My boyfriend doesn’t NEED to see that.  You don’t want to see that.  Also… my own FRIENDS and FAMILY don’t want to see me looking my worst.  Even I don’t try that at home people.  And admit it.  We kinda LIKE our idea of these women as they are when they’re made up.

4. Why let all the snappy technology of today go to waste?  Hello? It’s there people, for the taking.  Makeups, creams, hair tonics, oh the glorious hair tonics. They’re everywhere and almost FREE in some forms and locations. Get them while you can and use them while there is still time.  PLEASE.

5. I know there will be those naysayers out there who are proponents of this new “THING.” “I think they look lovely and show courage coming out without a stitch of makeup. No one does that in Hollywood or in political office… blah freaking blah…” You can say that all you want, but I DARE any of these women to show up on camera for their SHOW or to a GALA without a stitch.  That’s the point.  They won’t.  Why? Because getting adorned makes them look their best.  So, you naysayers… here, you may make your point, but only if you are known to never shave your legs/armpits, shower, wear makeup, perfume or hair products, and at that – you still look FABULOUS and could go like that to the most important occasion of your life.  Then, and only then will we bow before the idea of dolling up without products.

Because isn’t that the point?  Shouldn’t we view every waking moment as one of the most important, even possibly one of the last moments of our lives?  Shouldn’t we see how we look for our close friends and family as extremely important as well? Not that we have to shellack our faces and hair every day, but geez, put a little effort in.  Show those in your lives you care.  Would ya?

Enough said.

Tune in next time for a fabulous and tantalizing tale of two dates… or maybe something entirely different.

Love you people!!!!! Mmmmppphhhuuuhhh!!!!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

WATCH the related video: http://youtu.be/ObPV0ejuOXo

———————-

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All Blog content copyright 2012, LISA JEY DAVIS aka Ms. Cheevious

Filed Under: Chicky Fun, Dating, Friends, Friendship, Health & Wellness, Hot Moms, Living Life, Single Life, Uncategorized, Work and Career Tagged With: Hillary Clinton, No Makeup, People Magazine, Zoe Deschanel, Zooey Deschanel

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