Ms. Cheevious in Hollywood

My Zany Years Spent Working in Tinsel Town

Sheer Utter Silliness

The Weather Does Not Comply

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I engaged in a twitter conversation the other day about the horrors “Frankenstorm” was expected to inflict on New York. A friend was saying, “I am really hoping you won’t come to New York, storm… but I think you won’t listen.”

Yes. People tweet these things, myself included.  It is sickness… these conversations we have with inanimate objects in a forum where said objects could never answer, even if capable. Okay, that’s debatable. As soon as the keystrokes left my fingers to complete that thought, I realized that acts of nature are in and of themselves, responses. I suppose if the power goes out as a result of the storm, it will be Frankenstorm’s way of saying, “Hello? Did you challenge me? Did you say something to me, the great and powerful Frankenstorm?”

Lil’ ole me wrote something which, now that I know the storm is happening, even as you read this (most likely), now seems quite capricious. It said something like  “I prefer to stay more positive and let my intentions be known… “you will *not* come close. You will turn back…”  I meant well, and I do believe my friend either got it, or was pissed off,  as she promptly deleted her original tweet, which as a result, deleted my reply.

The fact is, the weather does not comply. All the purposeful thinking, intentions and positive thoughts in the world will not make Mother Nature listen. We can pray, meditate, beg, and if the storm moves, we thank God (or whomever we spoke to about this dilemma). If it doesn’t, we move along quietly, wondering what we did wrong.

Calm down now. We did nothing wrong. Weather is weather people.

It’s going to blow its wind, rain its rain, shine its sun and snow its snow whenever and however it chooses. There is not a whole lot we can do about it.

Wait.

Scratch that.

We can most definitely have a teensy, tiny affect on weather by continuing the high-speed ozone layer demolition course we’ve been on for decades (maybe even a century now). That will most definitely affect whether we have heat in summer and cold in winter.

But will weather change, divert, move away from us in respect to what we want?

Let me say it once more, this time with feeling:  The Weather — Does Not — Comply.

And we should know this by now.  Why doesn’t everyone on this planet know this?

It’s hot as hell here in Santa Monica. I’m talking late 80’s and 90’s during the day. To top it off the Santa Ana winds are in full force, wreaking havoc on everyone’s allergies.  Later in the evening it turns cool and damp, which of course rings in a furious flu season.  We know this type of weather is fairly normal here, particularly in Summer. But not this late in the Fall.

Listen. I know. I can hear it now: Awe, poor you! You’ve got balmy sunshine and warm breezes! Oh boo hoo hoo!

I realize how ridiculous this entire article is, but realize I’ve just had surgery. As part of the FAT HARVESTING from my legs and the FAT GRAFTING done to my BOOBS, just after they CUT THEM UP, TRIMMED SOME SKIN AWAY and RE-SHAPED them… well, I am required to wear, what I like to refer to as my own personal pair of Spanx.  It’s not a pair of spanx, unfortunately, and it’s not very comfortable to wear, especially if it’s hot.  So cut me some slack, yo.

I’m no idiot. I realize how ridiculous my description of my personal “hell” is, while New Yorkers and millions on the northeastern seaboard are battening down the hatches, stocking up on emergency supplies and running around panic-stricken over Frankenstorm.

But still. I’m hot. And the weather will not listen! And here is a little poem I wrote to illustrate it for you:

THE WEATHER DOES NOT COMPLY

The weather does not comply.
No matter how hard we try.
It will not do as I say.
It will not do as you say.
It will not in the East. It will not in the West.
It simply won’t comply, not even at your best.
It will not in the North, and neither in the South.
It will not hear a word that comes out of your mouth.
Not in the Fall or in the Spring.
It won’t comply for anything.
It will not change its course.
Not from a car, or on a horse.
Comply it will not do.
Not even just for you.
Not when it’s hot or far too cold
Not when you’re young or when you’re old.
No matter how hard you try
The weather does not comply.

Before You Go – Enter Our BIG Breast Cancer Awareness GIVEAWAY! You have until Wednesday, 10/31.

Win a Hard Rock Cafe Gift Bag FULL of great GOODIES (it’s free and you’ll help spread the word for Breast Cancer Awareness. If you’re a GUY – you can enter too. M.C. Nugget entered to win for his mom. Now GET TO IT!

Gotta love Dr. Suess, Sam I am and Green Eggs and Ham!  Have a fantastic weather-filled week!

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

xoxo,

Lisa Jey Davis

aka Ms. Cheevious

Editor in [Mis] Chief

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ASK MS. CHEEVIOUS

Have a question that is burning a hole in your brain about Ms. Cheevious…anything she does, her work, the book…life in general… or you want advice about a very important matter – go to our contact page & ASK AWAY.

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Other articles you may enjoy from Ms. Cheevious related to Breast Cancer Awareness (or Boobs in general):

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

My Evening With Moon Unit Zappa

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Moon Unit Zappa was most famous for being the daughter of musician Frank Zappa, and became known in the 1980’s for a song she sang (or rapped?) called “Valley Girl,” from which her infamous “Oh my GAWD… Gag me with a spoon” lyric came.

Way back when I was finishing law school at Pepperdine, I was living in the basement of an adjunct professor of Law from the school who rented to students like myself. The family had a son who was about seventeen or eighteen and seemed to be a really nice kid. I didn’t know him too well, and didn’t really spend much time with the kid, because I was busy doing my own thing.

One night the kid came up to me and said, “Hey! Come with me to this party up in the hills on Friday! It’s suppose to be really cool!” I was a little hesitant, because even though he was a nice kid and all – well, you know – he was just a kid, and I was twenty-three.. an ancient, wise sage, compared to him. We didn’t really “hang out.”

He must have noticed my uncertainty because he said, “We’re going with a friend of mine Moon Zappa… Frank Zappa’s daughter, and we’ll need to pick her up. Come on!”

The second he said “Zappa,” I was in. I had listened to, tried to figure out and cracked up over songs of Frank Zappa’s like “Stink Foot,” “Excentrifugal” and “Dinah-Moe Hum,” and knew it could be a night to remember.

On Friday, the kid, another friend of his and I drove up to Mulholland or someplace up in the hills to the home of Frank Zappa.  We went up to the door and were invited in by a somewhat nice looking lady. We were sitting on the couch and Moon came out to greet us. She must have been all of fifteen. Her younger brother Dweezil was just a little kid and doing his best to annoy us (and succeeding). The same woman who answered the door asked if she could get us anything to drink, while we were all talking, and then left to get drinks.

“Is that your mom?” I asked Moon.

“Oh no. That’s our witch!” she said, matter-of-factly.

“Your witch!” I choke-laughed.

“Oh, she’s a white witch, and she’s totally cool, but yeah… she’s not our mom!” she said cheerily.

(Photo credit: http://www.frankpicturesgallery.com/artists/lynngoldsmith/index.html)

The Zappa’s having an in-house Witch in their employ was weird-ass scary, but I still couldn’t refrain from my next questions…

“Is your dad here? Can we meet him?”

“Oh no… He’s here, but he’s in the studio recording. We can’t really disturb him.” she said.

At that, we said goodbye to the good witch and hit the road to a party in the hills. Though I was probably one of the older people there, I had a great time. We stayed really late, and had a blast sending Moon around the party guessing people’s astrological signs at our bidding.  She’d sworn she could do it and she did prove it to us — at the party, that is… among all her peers.  We were jabbing her about it, insisting she couldn’t really do it if she didn’t know someone. So, later that evening, we went to Mel’s Diner on Sunset for a bite to eat and I finally said, “Look, you aren’t going to convince us unless you pick someone who’s a complete stranger and guess them correctly.”

So, as we walked out of the parking lot, Moon approached an older couple. She very astutely explained the situation to the folks who were put off a bit, at first (I was pleasantly surprised at how astute she was for the fifteen year old that she was), but softened and laughed with her as they answered a few basic questions (like, “What do you do for a living?” etc). And then she did it. She hit the nail on the head with both of them — they were Capricorn and Pisces, if my memory serves.

We were convinced. We piled into the car and drove Ms. Moon Unit Zappa back to her home, which was overseen by the Good Witch of the hills.

And THAT, my friends, concludes the story of My Evening with Moon Unit Zappa.

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No, my lovely boys and girls… I didn’t go to law school, personally, and I did not, in fact meet or party with Ms. Zappa. But you must admit…. I have some pretty awesome friends with some incredibly great stories, don’t I?

Tune in next time for another one.

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

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

Editor in [Mis]Chief

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Other articles you may enjoy from Ms. Cheevious:

Release the Chihuahuas!

Where Ms. Cheevious fantasizes of owning 100 chihuahuas, so she can say “RELEASE the Chihuahuas!” in her best Dr. Evil voice. This one’s a MUST READ.

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Nada Mama


Where Ms. Cheevious talks about absolutely nothing.  For real… oh and being a super-hero Nada Mama…

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

Inner Giggle Override

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Thursday night was the opening of the play “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,” the masterpiece by Tennessee Williams, in which my man M.C. Nugget* stars as the male lead, “Brick.” The play opened in Santa Barbara, which is about an hour and a half north of Los Angeles.

On Thursday afternoon at about 2:30 PM I headed up the coast. I won’t give every detail of that debacle of a road trip, but suffice it to say that the super intelligent MapQuest app for my iPhone, when coupled with the blonde hair on my head, erroneously led me through FARM country, with one-lane roads frequented by gigantic tractors. It extended my drive by about, oh an hour. Once I made it to Santa Barbara, I immediately met up with Nuggie and sat down for a cocktail before I did a single.other.thing.

Nuggie gave me advance warning about the length of the play, and was interested to see how the audience would fare for three hours (with one intermission). The verdict? It was stupendous. We (the audience) were enthralled. We laughed, we were tense, we got emotional. Watching and taking-in their production felt like living a great piece of literature.

Afterward, some of the cast, crew and I went out to a nearby restaurant. We must have been giving off that “I love abuse. Would you please treat me badly?” vibe, because we experienced some incredibly inexplicable, bad service. It didn’t matter that we were giving them more money than they (or their food/beverages) were worth. After about forty minutes of abuse (at midnight), the place closed and we headed to a little dive bar called the Wild Cat. From the outside it looked like the kind of place where patrons regularly exit through the plate-glass window. But inside was a mixed-bag of “wild.” There were go-go dancers in the back, beer stained Mardi Gras beads hanging from Jack Daniel’s mirrors from the 70’s, and a clientele that appeared to be gay, but even that became mixed within minutes of our arrival. Apparently many places in Santa Barbara close at midnight during the week.

Speaking of adult beverages (we weren’t, but we were going to),  I believe all humans have a “Stop Drinking Alert System” (SDAS). My SDAS is constantly overridden by other, more powerful forces. Said forces include a) having too little to eat, being b) hormonal, c) tired, d) dehydrated, e) over-worked, f) under-worked, g) broke, h) landing a new client, i) receiving a big windfall of cash, or j) having a friend who wants to celebrate and/or drown in their sorrows. I’m exaggerating, of course, but when you’ve lived any kind of a life, you tend to rack up situations ripe for “SDAS override.”

On Thursday it was my inner giggle that trumped the SDAS. This wasn’t all my fault. Perhaps it was the difficult drive from earlier, or the lack of sleep which has become all too common lately.  But on top of that, one of the cast members — she played “May” – kept cracking funny jokes and BUSTING ME UP! We became BFFs faster than the bar could close at 1:30 AM and shove our giggly butts through the plate glass window (no, they did not even try, and I was a little miffed).

The problem with those evenings when the laughter is “just right” (not too giddy, not too silly) and the drinks seem to be bottomless, is that no one ever wants the evening to end. Ms. May happily announced there was more wine back at the hotel. So, naturally we all gathered in one of the rooms and drank that wine (and laughed more) for three more hours.

Three more hours.

M.C. Nugget’s suggestions to put the evening (and me) to bed fell on deaf ears… or laughing lips.

Ms. May and I were like two sorority girls giggling about the frat boys across the room. It was utterly ridiculous and more pointless fun than I’ve had in a very long time.

But I’m tired now.

I had no idea my inner giggle could so easily override my Stop Drinking Alert System and keep me awake into the wee hours of the morning. This, after I’d slept a whole four hours the previous night. I’d like to know if there is such thing as an Inner Giggle Override, and if so, where can I pick one up? Amazon?

Tune in next time you gorgeous individuals, when I’ll have something extra special for ya.

Love you people!!!! Mmmphhhuuuhhhhh!!!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

Editor in (Mis) Chief

*M.C. Nugget and the entire cast of characters on Ms. Cheevious are described here.

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Other articles you may enjoy from Ms. Cheevious:

Are You a Friend of Bill?

Where Ms. Cheevious talks about her experience with this secret guy.. or code… or whatever…

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HIT ME BEE-OTCH!

Where Ms. Cheevious’ hair stylist, Scissor Sister shares the naughty, hilair-lair details of her trip to Vegas.

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

The Elephant in the Room: Idioms in Real Time

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When I talk to my friends and family, I’m constantly making jokes.  These are not razor sharp wit-filled jokes, no. My jokes tend toward sheer utter silliness. My thing is to use idioms to get a laugh. It’s a sickness, really. For example, today I grabbed stuffed mushrooms from the refrigerator that had been sitting, festering for too long, and I said to M. C. Nugget, “Uh-oh! Honey! There’s a ‘fungus among us’.”

I know.  Kill you now.

I would tell you I’m sorry for that, but I’m PRITTTY DARN worried about myself right now. Think about it. Think of the pressure I must feel to be able to constantly apply idioms in a literal way. Eventually I’m going to run out of real-life situations.  It’s not like I’m planning to go into a broken down, leaky submarine anytime soon, where I’ll be able to say, “That’s as funny as a screen door on a submarine.”  Let’s hope not.

But I thought up some fun idioms and found images on the internet to help you imagine what it could look like in REAL life:

A Chip on His Shoulder

This I could make happen.


The Pot Calling the Kettle Black

I have used this figuratively all the time, but I just don’t see a way it’s going to happen in real life.

A Drop in the Bucket

Seriously?  One drop? That’s one I can DEFINITELY make happen. Oh the fun never stops.

Useless as Tits on a Bull

This one may be a bit difficult… but it was funny.

The Elephant in the Room

Wouldn’t it be awesome to be some place…. maybe the Natural History Museum, in the room with Woolly Mammoths… walk up to the exhibit with your friends and say “Let’s talk about the elephant in the room, shall we?”  Well, it’d be great for me, but this is why I should probably be committed. Because I would REALLY do that.

YOUR CHALLENGE:

There were so many of these great sayings, I couldn’t do them all justice. Your mission is to tell me how you could apply any of these idioms (or those below) to real life situations!  Feel free to provide links to images that tell your story in the comments.

If the idioms here in this article don’t do it for you there is a link at the bottom, where I got them. Have fun. I look forward to your input!  Fun times!

MORE IDIOMS

Blessing in Disguise

Come Hell or High Water

A Dime a Dozen

Graceful as a pig on ice

Don’t Throw me Under the Bus

The Cat’s Meow

Not the sharpest tool in the shed

Don’t be a Doubting Thomas

That’s a Piece of Cake – Don’t I WISH I could say this literally. Like, every day.

No Pot to Piss In

12 Kinds of Stupid

Day late and a dollar short

Square peg in a round hole

The Cat’s Out of the Bag

http://www.idiomsite.com

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And now, for pure comic relief:

What’s the best way to attack a circus? Go for the juggler! Yuck Yuck!

See you next time, for something really ridonk-ulous.

Love you people!!!! Mmmphhhuuuhhhhh!!!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

Editor in (Mis) Chief

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Other articles you may enjoy from Ms. Cheevious:

MY PHANTOM OVARY

Would I suffer alternating bouts of uncontrollable laughter, to screaming… then weeping? (and that’s just Nuggie!) So, I did myself and everyone else around me a favor,,,

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ALOHA NATIONAL CHICKEN MONTH

Where Ms. Cheevious tells of her spontaneous adventure to HAWAII.  YAY!  Who DOESN’T love a last minute trip to HAWAII!?

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

Are You Ms. Cheevious?

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The title of this article is literal. I really do want to know whether you embody all of the qualities of mischief, therefore making you a Ms. Cheevious girl or guy. But in asking the question “Are you Ms. Cheevious?” it makes me think of what would be a very clever slant to another article. That article would tell you all about how I was asked by an adoring fan whether I was the real Ms. Cheevious. Isn’t that just simply fabulous? Just the idea! But that means “Ms. Cheevious” would have to be super uber famous. So we’ll reserve that story for a day when the mysterious moniker of “Ms. Cheevious” is super uber famous. I can dream, can’t I? After all, unless people read the blog regularly, watch the videos on YouTube, follow on Facebook or actually click the pics on my Twitter profile, how would they really know what I look like? I use one of my paintings as my Avatar, for goddsakes! It could happen. The Ms. Cheevious avatar could become more famous than the me underneath and behind it all. Ahhhh, that’ll be the day people… and mark my words people, that day is coming. I’ll use this article title again. It will be the one and only time I will allow the use of a title more than once. But I digress.

As to the real question of “Are YOU Ms. Cheevious?” well, I can help you out there.  If you possess at least two of the below listed qualities of mischief, then you my dear are indeed a Ms. Cheevious guy or girl. Welcome to the fold.

But first, the definition (with Ms. Cheevious modifications, of course):

mis·chie·vous/ˈmisCHivəs/
Adjective:

  1. (of a person, animal, or their behavior) Causing or showing a fondness for causing trouble in a playful way: “two mischievous kittens”.

Noun:

  1. a person or animal who exhibits the qualities of the adjective (above), or who also exhibits any of its synonyms and the synonym’s synonyms.  “Mischievous (also pronounced MisCHEE-Vee-əs) loves company”

Synonyms:    naughty – impish – prankish – playful – wicked – rascally – puckish

THE LIST

 

1. You never get hangovers. It’s true. I’m told I have some extra enzyme in my blood that enables me to drink without getting hangovers (except on rare occasions – like this past Saturday night – hangover #2 in my entire life – when you mix Jameson’s Irish Whiskey, Coffee, Chardonnay, vodka martini, vodka tonics and “The Killer” from the Firehouse in Venice Beach (Vodka, Peach Liqueur, and Arnold Palmer – Iced Tea and Lemonade)).  The rare times you do get a hangover, it is a god-send. Otherwise, you would drink way too much, and all the time.

2. You have “blonde moments”. You do not have to be blonde to have these moments. This is true if you have ever phoned or texted someone and not recalled doing so (and not while tipsy), gone searching for your purse that was hanging on your arm all along (sunglasses sitting on your head, keys already in your hand – you get the picture), or forgotten where you parked, and were late to the next event because of it.

3. You are naughty AND nice. To you, all really IS fair in love and war.  You love breaking the rules, but not if it’s going to hurt someone else.

4. Your middle name is “Trouble”. You don’t just have a fondness for causing trouble.  It’s on your calling card.  And your reputation precedes you.  If there is fun to be had, and frivolity can possibly ensue, you are there to be sure the fun IS had by all, and frivolity commences immediately. You even have some friends who refuse to spend too much time with you, for fear this sort of “trouble” will rub off on them.

5. People feel good around you. You know how to make people feel special, and you derive much pleasure from doing so. You’ve been told that you make someone important feel good, calm, loved. This is key.

6. You have minions. Yes. If you have “people” who will make things happen for you, for others (on your behalf), for themselves (on your behalf — that’s the best one), then you have minions. Use them in good health.

7. You dress to impress. To impress yourself, your loves in life… whatever.  You care.

8. You’re sexy and you know it. You should have written the song, not LMFAO.  It should be your mantra. Party Rockin’ in the House Tonight!  Yes. You are comfortable in your own skin.  You feel sexy, therefore you are sexy. You know how to take care of yourself, and you do it.  But you also know how to cut loose and enjoy every moment.  Which leads me to the last item.

9. You Enjoy Every Moment. This means you will get the absolute most out of every single moment life has to offer.  And it’s not up for debate, like  “what about if someone dies?” Because… really?  If someone dies?  Everyone dies people. No one gets out of this thing alive. The trick is to enjoy every moment while you are still alive.  If there is a time to cry, by GOD you will cry your heart out and get the most out that too.  Enjoy.

Love you people! Mmmmmphhhuuuhhhhh!!!!!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

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

Silly Fights, Independence and a Damn Sandwich

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Liz writes for We Love Dates, a worldwide online dating site and dating advice blog.

Hang out with them on Twitter, Facebook or Google+!

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My boyfriend and I got into a huge fight at Subway the other day. Just writing that sentence annoys me on so many different levels. 1) I don’t even like Subway and we just stopped in because he was getting hungry and 2) I don’t want to be a couple who fights (in public!) about a damn sandwich. Like literally-this isn’t a deep metaphor here people-we were sharing a footlong and he wanted cheese, I didn’t…quite the controversy that resulted in me crying in the car on the way home.

Not my brightest moment.

Because I over analyze everything like it’s my job, I kept thinking about World War Subway well after we had kissed, boned and made-up. While some fights are just silly and insignificant, and aren’t worth a second thought, I had a stinking suspicion that there was more to the story than a piece of cheese. I was right.

I am madly in love with my boyfriend. I won’t bore you, but he’s fucking fantastic. I knew he was the one the moment I laid eyes on him on our first online date, and we’ve been together ever since. We’ve traveled the world together and are in the process of buying our first home. We’re a team…a unit. If we were super lame, we’d have a “couple” name, ala “Bennifer.” You can’t have one without the other, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I’ve always been fiercely independent though. Growing up as a twin, I had to fight everyday to set myself apart from my (fabulous) sister. I didn’t like being bound together, identity wise, with someone else. I wanted to stand on my own two feet and be my own person. That fighting spirit, and fear of losing my identity has stayed with me into adulthood.

Being in a long term, serious relationship has shifted my identity and admittedly, I was having a difficult time shifting my mindset along with it. In the days and weeks leading up to the fight, I knew I was feeling like I was losing myself, just a bit, and a part of me was hanging on tight, kicking and screaming to my independence. So as silly as it is, when my boyfriend ordered one sandwich for us to share, I freaked out.

“What about MY needs and wants?”
“What if I want my OWN?”
“What if for once, I just don’t want to share?”

Crickets…I told you it wasn’t my brightest moment. I’m pretty sure my boyfriend thought he was being Punk’d.

The thing is though, had the fight not happened, I’d be typing this blog post from an entirely different place. I’d probably still be clinging to my independence in the wrong ways, and building up resentment towards a guy who has made it his life’s mission to make me happy. Instead, because it was so unlike me to fly off the handle like that, I’ve been able to do a bit of self reflection and am now able to nurture those independent parts of me that make me, me. I’ve been able to put my big girl pants on and communicate to my boyfriend how I feel like my own personal spark is being a bit stifled, and together, we are working on finding ways to light it back up again.

Yes. Together. Because at the end of the day, subway freak-outs or not, I don’t want to be someone who doesn’t need anyone. I don’t want to be so married to my independence that I won’t let someone share my life. Or my sandwich.

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That’s it my lovelies!  Do us all a favor would you?  Welcome Ms. Liz to the fold, and post lots and lots of comments telling her how wonderful she is!  Stay tuned next week for a post about something very juicy (that burger image made me hungry – rawrrr).

Love you people!!!!! Mmmmmphhhhuuuhhhh!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious