Ms. Cheevious in Hollywood

My Zany Years Spent Working in Tinsel Town

Hot Moms

Enchanted Ms. Cheevious

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My peeps and I stopped by some cool places on Saturday night in Albuquerque, New Mexico (of all places). 

They call New Mexico the “Land of Enchantment.”  I have never been so sure what they meant by that –  and who are “they” anyway?  I grew up in New Mexico, and I never felt that enchanted.  From as early as I could articulate it, I insisted on living elsewhere.  I’m not trying to come down on the place, I swear.  I know, there are many merits to living in the high desert, I’m sure.  The skies are blue, the air is clean, the mountains and plains are breathtakingly beautiful at times, yada yada. 

I guess it just never grew on me.  At the age of ten, I begged my mom to let me move to Pontiac, Illinois to live with my grandmother.  For some reason I saw more chance of excitement in Small Town USA  then I hoped for in The Land of Entrapment (a name created by those of us who lived there our entire lives).  But my mom (of course) would have none of it. You were trapped there because you either wanted to be there, or because, well, for some reason you just couldn’t seem to get outta Dodge.

So, this past weekend, Fred the Wonder Chicken and I ventured out to the desert to pay a much needed visit to my beautiful mother, Nereide Frances Padalino (her real name).  She had a stroke last year, and is still in rehab, recovering.  I was a little sketchy on traveling back to town on my own, because, well – for one thing, the last few times I’ve gone, the accommodations were not all that comfortable (I couldn’t stay at my mom’s house, because other siblings had moved in to help out, and the places I ended up staying were either unfamiliarly uncomfortable or I froze to death – thanks Wackie – ha ha!). And for two, frankly, I’ve lost touch with most of the friends I knew growing up, or they moved away long ago, so there was rarely much to do on visits with my mom out of the social picture. The remaining sisters and brothers in town were all leading their own busy lives, and it just always seemed to be an exhausting prospect to have one – more – sibling come to visit, than it was an occasion to get out and do things.

This time was different.  FWC and I stayed with my girl Prissy and her dog Skimpy.  If you are new to my blogs, welcome!  I am so glad to have you!  But you should know that everyone here, aside from me, has an alias, even “Prissy’s” dog!  I’m all about protecting the identities of those I write about! 

Prissy and Skimpy live in a beautiful loft-style condo overlooking the sprawling beauty of Albuquerque.  It is most beautiful at night, when the view of the city lights is unparalelled. 

We arrived to town, and here is what we did and where we went:

Wii Bowling. On Friday night, after dining someplace nice, FWC and I unloaded our bags at Prissy’s only to find she had just bought and installed the Wii in her living room, with her big screen plasma tv.  BONUS!  We played Wii Bowling and drank wine and tequila (FWC and Prissy drank the tequila – I couldn’t stand the stuff) until 3 o’clock in the morning.   

Zinc Cellar Bar.  On Saturday, FWC and I tooled around after visiting my mom.  We bought ourselves some tasty cigars (mine was White Chocolate Truffle Irish Cream flavored!  ha ha!), and then got ready for our big Saturday night.  We started at Zinc Cellar Bar.  This place was cool!  The upstairs housed its fine-dining restaurant, while the basement – the Cellar Bar – was a venue for some of the southwest’s greatest eclectic bluesy musicians.  It was also the setting for FWC’s first introduction to my crazy, zany family.  What a fun evening that was.  We drank wine, shared appetizers and listened for a moment to the blues band they brought in for the night.  Of course, FWC was a hit with everyone.  They all wanted to touch his feathers (HA). When everyone else left, FWC, Prissy, my brother Odee (named after the cool purse company he has – Odechala – where they make purses out of very cool cigar boxes) and his adult son (my nephew) determined we were not quite done for the evening.  So we moved on to the next happenin’ spot. 

Below are some of the family, with FWC sandwiched in.  Prissy is at the forefront, then my little nephew, me, FWC, and my brother Odee.

Ms. Cheevious, Family & FWC

Here is a nice shot of the Cellar Bar:

zinccellarbar

Imbibe.  We didn’t want our evening to end so early, and we certainly didn’t want our brand new cigars to go to waste, so we walked next door to the popular cigar bar, Imbibe.  It had a really cool atmosphere, and big screen tv’s so we could watch the final four games that were on that night.  We sat at the bar, sipped cognac and B&B, smoked our yummy cigars, and hob-nobbed with the rest of Albuuquerque’s elite. 

 The outside of Imbibe, shown below – shows what is very common architecture in this part of town called Nob Hill.  It is a traditional Southwest adobe, with some neon accents:

imbibebar2

Here is one side of the bar at Imbibe (there are two rooms).  I never realized how the inside of the building is kinda cigar shaped!

imbibebar

I have to say, it was FUN, and dare I say it?  I left Albuquerque feeling just a little enchanted.  Yup.  Me. 

Just goes to show, perceptions and feelings – no matter how strong – are not always accurate, nor are they permanent. 

Stay tuned next week kiddies, when I bring you some news from the glitzy side of life in Hollywood.  I’ll be dishing on my backstage frolicking at my first ever Bruce Springsteen concert.  The Boss can’t have any idea what’s in store!  Hee hee!

Have a sunny and spring-ish weekend everyone! 

Love you people!  Mmmmmmmphhhuuuhhhhh!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

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Beach Bar Bouncing

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This week I’m gonna’ give you a little somethin’ somethin’ to help launch you – full board – into Spring.

Fred the Wonder Chicken had a friend in town from Pennsylvania last week.  That guy is one big FUN event after another waiting to happen!  He was like the Ever Ready Bunny (or is it Energizer Bunny?) of good times! 

Now, I’m only telling you this, because I know some of you think I am a goodie two-shoes.  Well, I’m not.  Okay? Let me set the record straight. 

I am cool.  I am a bad ass, dancing fool.  I love to get out, flutter around the bar or restaurant, say hello to everyone, and if necessary, cause trouble.

So, guess what?  FWC, his Pennsylvania trouble making friend and I got kicked out of a bar on Saturday night.  Yup! Me, Ms. Cheevious – the Goodie Two-Shoes of Los Angeles got BOUNCED from a BEACH BAR! 

Okay, so to hear them tell it, I gotta’ say (because it sounds better), that our departure from the premises was a mutual decision between the management and our party.

But here’s the low down: 

We all know how I like to get my groove on, right?  Well, I was the one who begged to go to this particular dance club on Main Street in Santa Monica.  It just looked cool.  From the outside it looked like I could groove all night long, and love every minute of it.  But looks can obviously be deceiving. 

As the evening progressed, and I was dancing, minding my own business, having a nice little time – the music began to get progressively more difficult to dance to. It became sort of that whole “techno” music vibe. I hate techno.  I hate dancing to it. You can’t sing to it.  What is the point?  I think techno was invented to drive people crazy, and make them want to kill themselves.

So after a few songs that all sounded exactly the same, with that same stupid, annoying beat, and after I’d had a few cocktails, I approached the DJ to ask if I could request a song.  

That was the first mistake. 

He was NOT happy I was asking.  As a matter of fact, he was just plain mean about it.  To my surprise, however, he managed to growl in his cockney, British accent, “What you want to hear?” 

So – have I told you that I am blond?  Of course I have – to those of you veterans, reading this.  But to you new folks – have I told you that I’m blond?  🙂

I could be convinced to REALLY think it is something in the dye.  I’m sure there is some way for it to seep into the brain – and right at the moment when you are trying to pull up something really clever, it steals your thoughts from you.  Gone. 

Particularly on days when you’ve just had your hair done.  Saturday was one such day for me.

So, I stuttered and stammered a bit, before blurting out, “Brittany?” only to feel the urge to dodge a spit wad from the guy.  He was that kinda guy.   “NO!  I’m NOT PLAYING ANY BRITTANY!” 

Ya’d think the guy would at least have a smile on his face as he rejected me, especially since he was jabbing a sharp, steal blade into my soul with his evil eyes.  But no.  This guy was ANGRY. 

So, of course I thought I just had to do better.  So, what did I suggest?  “Madonna?” 

That was the second mistake.

Can you  BLAME ME?  I am BLOND, I had some drinks, and in trying to be COOL for the COOL BRITISH BLAH BLAH DJ, I was just pulling up anyone out there that I knew had a new album out! 

“I’M NOT PLAYING MADONNA!  NO! GET OUT OF HERE.  GO AWAAYYY.” 

So, have you ever seen a baby deer – a doe, freeze in front of a car?   You know how they get those big saucer eyes? 

Well, that was me, after being punished by the DJ.  Only my eyes welled up with tears to boot.  HA HA!  What a wimp! 

I moped back over to our little corner, and immediately Fred the Wonder Chicken knew something was wrong.  I told him what had happened, and before I could say anything he jumped up to go tell that guy how to talk to a lady.  My hero! Awe!  Ummmy, yummmmy!!!

I suppose push came to shove, (not literally), but FWC – after calling the guy a “DICK” or something of the sort – asked to speak to the manager.  Guess what?  The DJ just so happened to be the manager.

So, as we were leaving, with a couple of nicely dressed bouncers kindly walking alongside us, we made sure to say how sorry we were that they had to work for that DJ – and as FWC put it, “Such a DICK.”  One of the bouncers said to me, “Tell me about it.” 

So, I got bounced from a bar – but have a great story to tell because of it!

I hope you all get out there this Spring, get your grooves on, and get bounced from a beach bar as well!  Ha ha – Jussssst kidddddding!

Have a great weekend everyone!

Love you people!  Mmmmmmmpphhuuuhhhhh!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

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A-Musing in Los Angeles

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Well HELLOOOOO all you lovely girlies and manly men! 

I missed you last week! I apologize.  I was exceptionally busy with work last week, and as much as my blog was on my mind, there wasn’t a SINGLE moment to spare to get a post out to you! 

But I have to say, it was probably a good thing I was working.  The way CNN and MSNBC and the whole lot of them are talking, I am the only one out there who is!   But hey – I’m here to help.  Just plop that big ole mess of an economy on my desk.  You, me and all my friends will spend as much time as it takes (since none of you have anything to do now) to figure it out and settle this thing once and for all.  Ha! We’d probably do a pretty damn good job of it too.

If you are new here, welcome!  I’m so happy to have you!  Please – enjoy your stay! 

So – since I feel compelled to keep the nation’s workforce of ONE busy working, I thought I’d try to do a quickie this week, so I can get back to my other job.  I decided I would jot down some of the things I’ve been musing about – as they have occurred to me recently.  As you’ll see, I didn’t do a great job of being quick or to the point.  But hey, it’s FUN.  So here you go:

1.  I think our President is the most natural, real guy who’s been in that office in a very long time. (This one is serious.  I observed it during his State of the Union Address).

2.  I am really TICKED OFF at the airlines.  Yep.  At the Delta curb just about a week ago while checking in, the sky cab said just their desk had made over a MILLION dollars in revenue in the previous month.  Do you know what that revenue was from boys and girls?  You know those BAGGAGE FEES the airlines instituted back in June because they couldn’t afford to pay for fuel – back when some of us were paying over $4.00/gallon?  Yep.  That’s right.  Just that ONE sky cab station earned over a MILLION buckaroos in baggage fees in ONE month!  Here I thought they’d be cancelling those fees now that gas is HALF the price it was back then.  HA.  I think we should organize a boycott. From now on, it’s Amtrak or Greyhound for all of us, kiddos.

3. Which brings me to my next musing:  Fred the Wonder Chicken said this half jokingly, when Captain “Sulley” from US Airways landed the plane safely in the Hudson river. I fear he was hauntingly accurate.  He said “Next, the airlines will be making money off the good pilots!  They’ll say, “Well, Captain Sulley is flying this particular flight.  We can sell you a seat, but it’ll cost ya.!””  He was RIGHT.  Just Tuesday (2/24/09), the airlines, in a bold move, brought Sulley in to testify before congress.  Those congress-people thought they were getting a pleasant visit from the flight crew of that US Airways flight.  I don’t know where the airlines get off, but they sent that heroic pilot in there to complain that they don’t have enough money to pay good pilots!! What kind of nonsense is THAT?  He said that the airlines can’t AFFORD  it.  He said that 3000 hours or more of flight time use to be required to get hired (way back when), and now they’ll take someone with 300 hours.  Okay people.  Am I missing something here?  Is it OUR fault they’ll hire pilots to fly their 500 million dollar planes who graduated from Joe’s School for Flight Training & Cosmetology (and Hot-Dog Stand) in Guthrie, Oklahoma?  GET a GRIP!  Does NO ONE out there know how to run a business, and make it WORK?  What the HECK is going on over there?  And the GALL of them turning around and charging us extra baggage fees on top of giving us SECOND RATE pilots!!  But hey, what about that prediction by FWC?  Be careful what you say, that’s all I’m sayin.

4. OH!  I almost forgot!  This one is probably the most important!  Especially to you girly romantic girls out there!  Fred the Wonder Chicken gave me DIAMONDS for Valentine’s Day!  Can you believe it?  Yep.  I know.  Took him long enough, right?  There were two of them.  Two BLACK DIAMONDS.  Yep.  While skiing Ajax (in Aspen, Colorado) over Valentine’s Weekend he accidentally led me to a ski run called something like T-1 or T-3 .  Isn’t that just so wonderful? He’s such a romantic.  The cascading cliffs with their jagged rocks, protruding out of the snow for me to see as I stumbled toward them.  The dense foliage and trees, with the beautiful giant white moguls in between.  And it wasn’t just beautiful for the eyes and mind to see, it was an incredible experience.  I can’t tell you how incredibly pristine it felt getting in there with nature, rubbing my ass down the side of the hill as the snow slowly crept up my back and down my pants, clinging to my skin, turning it a beautiful shade of blue.  But seriously – as hairy scary as it may have or could have been, we had a FANTASTIC time!  I laughed so much, at one point I wanted him to video tape it for all of you to see.  But, I got down to the bottom of the hill and decided to sit at the bar while FWC got in a few more runs.  Do you blame me?  The locals there said those runs are really DOUBLE Double Black Diamonds. So see?  FWC really DOES care!  He gave me FOUR big giant diamonds! hee hee!

5.  Okay – I’m a pretty good skier.  At least I think so.  Plus, I’m in pretty decent shape.  I work out five days a week, if at all possible.  I try to eat right.  But that trip was EXHAUSTING.  Was it the altitude, the fun and revelry every night, the skiing or the combination that made me want to sleep for three days after that trip?

I’m ready for some down time.  How about you?

Have an incredibly beautiful weekend everyone!

Love you people!  Mmmmmmmphhhhuuuuhhhh!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

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Ho Ho Ho Yourself

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I was just perusing my posts, reading the comments posted by you funny, fantastic readers, and somehow, as a result, I ended up on my blogger-friend Matt’s page about Christmas.  That thing CRACKED ME UP. 

Matt was a little pissed off at Santa, whom he said “hadn’t come through for him in a long f-ing time.” I paraphrased that just a tad.  His complaint? That “Santa’s fat ass had been getting lazy and given him nothing but gift certificates” over the last couple of years.  This made it perfectly acceptable for Matt to buy himself a gift on a recent visit to Sports Authority – even though he was there to buy gifts for his family.

SO Funny!  Welcome to Christmas in single adult world.  HA!  Oh sure, there are the gifts we exchange with friends, family and such, but it’s not at all like it was when we were kids, and mom and dad asked what we wanted.  Usually they asked with the actual intent of getting us at least one item on our list.  It started out when we were really young and could barely write, and mom would remind us to write our letter to Santa so he’d be sure to know what we wanted.  The disillusionment started then.  Santa just never seemed to get it right.  Then when I learned the truth about Santa – that he is just the guy to take pictures with at the mall, I realized my mom and dad were the culprits at never getting it right. There were multiple let-downs, because mom or dad thought they were satisfying me with a Barbie “look-alike” or some kind of nonsense like that.  I got pretty good at crafting my “Christmas list” as I grew up.  I got to where I was providing the manufacturer’s name, and store location where they could pick one up.  Little did I know that my determination to get what I wanted would be the driving force in developing some keen management skills in me as well.  HA!

By the way, who said Christmas is not about the gifts?  Well, whoever did clearly did NOT know what it was like at our house.  Listen, we were taught the true story of Christmas – how it was because of the birth of Christ and that it was suppose to be about giving rather than getting.  My mom and dad made sure of that.  And believe me – all that giving they did to me and my siblings rubbed off.  Just ask anyone that I care about around any sort of gift-giving time. 

But just imagine a home with a minimum of eight or nine kids (I am one of eleven kids, from the same set of parents).  My younger brother Johnny and I are the “babies,” and we were pretty spoiled around Christmas time.  Although, I am absolutely certain every single one of my siblings felt the same.  It’s because my mom had this fantastic way of making everything look so ultra festive and our living room – where the tree was always housed (apart from one trial year, where some artsy-fartsy sibling convinced mom to move it to the den for a “change” which really sucked, because of the hard marble floors), was like a department store – the Christmas tree was INCREDIBLE.  Our living room became un-walkable because of the PILES of gifts under and surrounding the tree. I remember Johnny and I sneaking out after midnight one year.  We even sat in the hall and waited for our mom and dad to finish their Christmas business, before we snuck out and counted our presents.  It was a good year.  We must have been around 5 and 7 or so, and we each had over 100 gifts!  This of course included every single thing, including the 24 Crayola Crayons wrapped alone, and the six little coloring books that were also wrapped individually.  My mom knew.  Perception was KING.  She wanted us to wake up in the morning, and see our eyes pop out of our heads at the fantastic sight.  And we did.  We knew not to let her down.

Anyhow, since then, growing up, going through marraige, divorce and raising my own kids, I’ve learned that the only way I am going to get exactly what I want is to buy it myself (okay – that’s not always the case – sometimes if I focus REAL hard, someone else gets me just what I want! HA!).  So, I’m sorry Santa, but I’m taking your job – at least in my own personal world.  Sorry.  I’ve just proven to be indispensable to myself, and well, let’s face it. You’ve been slacking on the job lately!

On another note, this year I took my older son to New York city for Thanksgiving.  It was his Christmas gift.  Next year, I’ll be smart.  He has a birthday in early January.  Next year, I’ll let him know it’s a COMBINATION Christmas and Birthday gift, if we are lucky enough to do something so extravagant again.  I just had NO idea how much money I would spend showing my son a good time in the Big Apple.  It was a small fortune.  Let’s just say his car cost me about the same.  It’s not an expensive car, as cars go, but hey – it’s an Infinity, and it ain’t half bad. 

On one of my days while in the city for some important PR appointments, I found myself on 5th Avenue.  Need I say more?  Probably not.  I could probably end this post right here and now, and you’d know what happened.  That’s because you are so very smart.  But, hey, I will give you the details nonetheless.

You see, there is this clothing designer called Free People.  I discovered them for myself this past summer, while “just browsing” at Bloomingdales.  That little browse cost a pretty penny too, but I LOVE those clothes.  One thing I learned, after my 5th Avenue experience is that buying these things at department stores is the way to go.  They are the only ones who mark things down as much as like 60%. 

So, I’m walking down 5th Avenue, minding my own business.  I had just finished my last appointment at Forbes Magazine, when I realized what a PRETTY street 5th Avenue is!  At least where I was between 14th and 15th streets.  It called to me.  The beautiful shops with their wood framed windows and majestic entrances.  I was doomed.  I simply HAD to explore – if only for the sheer architectural beauty!  As I meandered down the block, I was JUST about to hail a cab, thinking my browsing was over, when I saw the FREE PEOPLE store.  These people know how to make clothes, and they know how to LURE people like me into their store. 

I went in. 

I tried on.

Everything looked AMAZING.  I am NOT kidding.

Will someone please tell me?  Just WHEN does a female EVER try clothes on and say that everything looks AMAZING? Most women NEVER utter the word “amazing” in reference to ANYTHING about their body!

Never.

I even tried on these spandex leggings with gold zippers at the ankles.  They rocked – just before falling into my basket.

Many many dollars later, I was walking down 5th Avenue with my new Christmas gift to myself!

Done. 

The only people left to shop for were my younger son Graden, and a few good loves.  Now that I was out of the way, I could get some stuff done.

So Matt, I TOTALLY get it.  I bet after you bought yourself that workout bench, you were able to focus on everyone else!  Am I right?

Have an INCREDIBLE, LOVELY weekend everyone.  Don’t let the Grinches out there rob you of your sheer and utter JOY.  Just smile at everyone and tell them to have a beautiful, wonderful day.  And have some eggnog if that doesn’t work! Some good – strong – eggnog.

Love you people!  Mmmmmphhhhuuuuhhhhh!!!!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

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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.

[digg=http://digg.com/celebrity/La_Vida_Loca_with_Angelina_Brad]

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The Indelible Foibles of Drinking & Dialing (or Texting)

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“This i-phone!” my girlfriend Danielle shrugged, exasperated. 

“What’s the deal?” our friend Debra and I asked over breakfast.

“Last night I was texting back and forth with different people, and for some reason, when you hit ‘reply’ on a text message, sometimes it brings up the last person on your phone list, rather than the person you actually meant to reply to. So last night I was texting back and forth with Craig [sometime boyfriend] – and of course I did have a few glasses of champagne throughout the evening – and he was sending me texts like ‘where are you?’ or ‘what are you doing?’, so at one point I thoughtI was texting him and I said, “I’m on the corner by The Lounge. I’ll be the girl with the hot tits.””

Debra and I chuckled at that statement alone!  Then we heard the real punch line.  “So this morning, I was going through my old texts, and what I thought was a text to Craig, went to the taxi driver from earlier in the evening!” 

We roared with laughter.  The thought of that guy racing to her corner (since we are talking about small-town Aspen here), looking for someone who was hot-to-trot for him was just priceless. 

If you are new to this blog, welcome!  Come on in.  It’s fun here.  Would you care for a drink?  ha ha

Seriously, we’ve all had our share of experiences I’m sure (unless of course you do not indulge or over-indulge in the occasional alcoholic beverage), where we’ve said or done something embarrassing as a result of having too much fun.

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And be warned:  These sorted scenarios don’t only play out on the evening in question, but can carry over to the morning after, while we recover from the night before.

I’m sure this is why my friend Danielle thought for certain that the i-phone was her problem.  She continued, “So, this morning I had a text from Ellie, who was asking where I went last night, and I thoughtI was texting her back, when I said, “I met up with Craig and we had wild monkey sex until three in the morning.”  Hey – what can I say? Some of my best friends are base individuals – given to animal instincts and behaviors at times!

As we absorbed her comments, she delivered this little doozy: “Well, I just looked, and that text went to Craig.”  she said, mortified.

“Oh no!” we said, laughingly.  Then I offered, “That’s so weird!  There must be some faulty programming on those things. You should check for updates or something online.  I bet it’s a known problem!” 

In reality, it’s more likely the alcohol in her system to blame, rather than a renegade text mechanism in her i-phone.  I’m sure Danielle, now that her system is clear, knows this to be true.

So, though I have dealt with the consequences of drinking and dialing, the whole texting thing is a new one to me.  I mean, I’ve sent some indecipherable texts after a few cocktails.  I’ve even texted the wrong person, but generally the messages were harmless, and left my unintended targets scratching their heads, and later writing it off to my – well, blondness.

It begs the question, however, how does one, if inebriated, make the  level-headed “call” to step away from the cell phone?  I am asking this question as a student – someone who does not have the answers, I swear.  If I did, my friend, I promise I’d rattle off some list of do’s and don’ts!

I suppose the very same mechanism that kicks in, making some insist, by god, that they can drive, even though they’ve only had three? four? five? drinks, may be to blame here. 

What is it about this legal drug and its affect on us?  And why do some people have more command over their faculties than others?  I have some friends that get just plain stupid when they drink. I don’t even want to be around them.  Then there are others that seem perfectly normal.  Or could it be that I’ve had as much to drink as they have on those occasions?

I can offer this sage advice, from years of doing the RIGHT thing:  If you don’t want to do anything stupid, determine that ahead of time, and be responsible.  If you find yourself guzzling the wine, perhaps you are actually thirsty.  Try a glass of water.  It’s actually refreshing.  And, as a wise man once said “Know thyself.”  Don’t be an idiot and think you can pound down the drinks without even developing a slight stagger or stutter.  Everyone does to a certain extent.  If you are going out to drink, learn from other people’s mistakes if you can and take precautions.  As a single mother, I learned long ago that you do NOT go out and drive if going out for a night of drinking. There are precious people I am responsible for, and it is just wrong. Don’t even BRING your car if you stand a chance of drinking over the course of an evening.  A hundred dollars in cab fare is far better price to pay than dealing with the myriad of other possible outcomes, which I won’t even go into here (the very least of these being a DUI).

So – enough about drinking, dialing and texting.  I know you are all sitting, waiting with bated breath to hear about my results for the week.  In case you’ve not been here, I’ve been on this challenge to get back to a healthy eating lifestyle.  I’ve been known for being an incredibly disciplined eater for most of my post-divorce, adult life.  That is, until a few years ago.  It got to the point this past January, where I put some of my favorite clothes on and they looked awful.  There were bulges where it use to be solid and lean, and I just didn’t feel as good as I’m accustomed to.  So, I got rigid.  Then I got lax (last week I actually gained half a pound).  Anyhow, I am back on track, and still determined.  You don’t get rid of bad habits overnight.  This I know. I’ve decided that until I reach my goal, I will not belabor the message in these posts.  I will simply state my goal, current weight and weight lost/gained. 

Sound good? Works for me!  Except, of course, for this week.  PSYCHE!  I am in Albuquerque, New Mexico to spend time with my mother who recently had a stroke.  I’ve been packing, condo hunting, moving, running a business and much much more ever since this whole thing started.  I’ve been traveling so much (just this month) that my whole system (physical and logistical) is off, and I decided not to go there.  I will weigh in on this (no pun intended) next week!  Know this:  Changing habits that you aren’t fond of (in yourself) takes determination, stamina and time.  You have to be IN it for real.  I am.  Bring it on, baby!  I’ve lost 8 of 11 lbs, and I am going to WIN. hee hee[digg=http://digg.com/food_drink/The_Indelible_Foibles_of_Drinking_Driving_or_texting]

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