Ms. Cheevious in Hollywood

My Zany Years Spent Working in Tinsel Town

daily mischief

The thing that really bothers me

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A few days ago I received an email from a family member which was addressing an issue we all eventually face: death, dying, and dealing with what’s left behind.

I saw that little email message, read the subject line, and promptly ignored it, switching over to Twitter. Ahhh Twitter… the place where one can spew out what’s on the heart and mind and see where the chips fall, without your house becoming a combat zone (unless of course, you’re someone as famous as Ashton Kutcher – he was really just misunderstood).

I’d completely forgotten about said email until a slew of replies back and forth started lighting my computer up this morning. By this time, I thought I’d just better click that little icon and see what was brewing in family-land. I suddenly found myself composing an homage to Eminem with phrases such as “It’s time to move the f*ck on” (my email wasn’t censored) and “yeah, I’d welcome someone manipulative, controlling and self-serving. NOT.”

Take hormones much? Yeah… probably not.

But after sharing such a moving show of love and humanity in the video yesterday, and after I said I wanted to go out and just “GIVE GIVE GIVE” this explosion of words is the thing that really bothers me. Where the hell did it come from? True, people sometimes have to hear it harshly, especially when their deafness is shriveling every ounce of love you ever had for them. And true, sometimes I am the only one willing to do the job. But I suppose I’d hoped for a better start to my day… that or I hoped that maybe TODAY would be the day that assholes everywhere would surprise us all and turn over a new leaf.

Then again… you know what they say, right? Tomorrow is another day. MOVING THE F*CK ON NOW.

This is why we survive

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I don’t normally do this, but this Thai commercial does more in three minutes than any Hollywood film could ever hope to achieve. Congratulations to True Communications for producing such a wonderful example of humanity at its finest. It’s about giving.

 

Go out after you watch this and give, people. Just do it.

This should never be said

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I’ll never forget the first time someone called me “voluptuous.” I think I was fourteen, and had no idea what it meant. I had to look it up before I realized there was cause for serious screaming, especially at my age, barely a pubescent teen.

voluptuous

– definition

1.
a voluptuous woman has a large curved body and is sexually attractive; a voluptuous blonde
; 
voluptuous curves

;

2. 
suggesting or expressing a strong sexual desire; slow voluptuous caresses;

3. a voluptuous taste, smell, etc. affects your senses in a strong and pleasant way; the voluptuous scent of roses;

I can hear it from some of you now: “Being “voluptuous” based on the definition isn’t so bad! It even says, “sexually attractive!” 

Yeah, yeah yeah. Sexually attractive, blah blah BLAH  You could tell any fourteen year old girl she is the most incredibly talented, amazingly brilliant, strikingly gorgeous voluptuous young lady you’ve ever seen. What she’ll hear is “large body.” Another definition used the term “ample.”  You say sexy? She’ll hear “ample.”  It’s in the blood.

voluptuous

Take it from me guys. If you love the feel of those ample hips and dream about larger than life breasts, that’s fine for you. I’m happy for ya. But say any combination of words or phrases like “you’re curvy” “something to hold onto” “you’re not too skinny,” and you can expect to be in for the discussion of your life. There will probably be tears at some point and you may have unwittingly elicited an incredibly strict diet. But do not try this in order to elicit a diet. Reverse psychology tends not to work if women are already over weight. Besides, if she has any brains, she will impose her diet on you too.

It’s not that we don’t want to be attractive to you, it’s that most people in general suffer from that grass is greener syndrome. Add estrogen to that, and suddenly every curvy girl struggles to be wafer thin, and ballerina types will do anything to not be so thin (including getting boob jobs).

Rare gems are comfortable enough in their own skin to embrace what equipment they were born with.

I’ve had a few “tune-ups” along the way due to some unforeseen – er – mishaps in my physique that were beyond my control (like droopy nursing mom’s boobs and enough extra skin on my de-babied belly to tent a small village), but I think I’m finally okay with me.

That’s why I know this shit and can advise you with authority.

IX-NAY on the URVY-CAY and OLUPTUOUS-VAY words.

 

image credit: http://1977shockwolf.deviantart.com/art/Voluptuous-Wonder-Woman-320043673

This one is for the stalkers

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I received a comment on a Facebook post today that said something like, “I love all your quotes and follow you like a stalker.”

Sniff, sniff. It warms my heart to know I have my very own stalker!

You know I mean that facetiously, right? True stalkers are no laughing matter.

Nevertheless, I’ve had more than a couple of people “do” what I “do” in regard to my approach to — well, a lot of this online stuff. Whether it’s an innovative approach to writing a blog post, a different way to use facebook page entries to engage fans, employing unique phrasing for Twitter’s #FollowFridays, or the way I announce that I’ve given Klout to someone, and so on…. they see it, and then some of them do it. It’s that simple!

 

I’ve thought long and hard about why this is the case, because even though I would love it to be because I’m simply brilliant, I think there is more to it. Maybe it’s because of our age group? Because god knows there has got to be thousands of twenty-something emo-beatnick kids out there coming up with REALLY f-ing unique shit.

But maybe it’s because I don’t simply accept the way things are “supposed to be” and am merely willing to take risks and step outside of the borders?  

I suppose why is irrelevant though, because regardless, I’ve seen my share of monkey-see-monkey-doers.

Some might call this plagiarism or at best unoriginal, but I don’t! I simply adore it!

Before you ask yourself why, ask this question: Do you think I was the first one to write an original #FollowFriday tweet?

Hell no.

Although I may joke to the contrary, I’ll say it right here and now, and only once:

I did not invent cool. 

There.

I’ve just thrown a little bone to you quasi-stalkers out there. Because I love you for all of your copycat ways.

Keep up the good work.

For those times when I’m “trying” to gain weight

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Today M.C. Nugget was kind enough to offer to wash my car. This is something I always accept with glee. I often add a token grin and run over to throw my arms around him too.

But you see, this was BIG for me. Because even though I am a clean person, for some reason I don’t get around to washing my car often. I’m not sure why, because when I owned my own condo, my place was always immaculate and presentable enough even for pesky surprise guests. But when it comes to my car it’s bad. Really bad. It’s like a mental block.

The only problem was he wanted to wash my car at a time when I needed to go to a nearby pilates studio and “observe” an exercise class by one of my favorite instructors. (I planned to steal her routine and use parts of it in my classes).

Have I told you what a good guy Nuggie is?

I suggested with a coy little grin how we could possibly still make everything work, if he were to one-up his favor and drop me off near said exercise class.

He did.

He’s a good guy, you guys.

I went to observe the class dressed in my workout attire, because… duh. I’m an instructor extraordinaire.

The class is taught on these machines that doll out pain from hell… much like these below:

 

 

I arrived, and my friend welcomed me with “You can drop into class if you like, because I have one machine open.”

I immediately jumped at that, because when this happens, and you’re offered a FREE CLASS, you just DO IT.

The thing I hadn’t factored in was my walk home afterward, in the HOT sunshine.

Don’t anybody panic for me. I know you were already beading up with sweat over this, but I was FINE.

EVERYBODY, I was FINE.

I got home and proceeded to eat a healthy Weight Watcher’s Smart One (a favorite of mine). I hadn’t eaten all day, and it was afternoon before I got home.

It was yummy and all, but I was HUNGRY.

Somehow, when I am tired and depleted from a rigorous workout something this always happens: Peanut Butter popped into my mind.

I know. Not the healthiest of foods when one is in a constant war against hormonal weight gain.

But PEANUT BUTTER was there, and it wasn’t leaving.

So, I caved people. I walked into my kitchen, slathered a bit on half a banana, and didn’t stop there. I took a piece of bread and slathered that crunchy peanut butter all over it and gobbled it down.

PB

But let’s look on the bright side:  For those times when I’m TRYING to gain weight, I’ve got a very quick, easy solution: PEANUT BUTTER… and lots of it.

 

 

It’s no longer known as the breakup meal

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Now DON’T BE SHY. READ THE WHOLE POST & LEAVE A REPLY at the bottom people.

I absolutely love to cook. And not in that, “Yeah… I’ll whip you up some scrambled eggs,” kind of “love to cook” way, either. Sure, I can make all of the basics and I often do, but I am a pretty good cook. I am thrilled to pieces when I’m dining at my favorite restaurant and experience something so incredibly delicious that I want to recreate it in my kitchen.

I do this often.

Often it works out exactly as I’d hoped. Sometimes it’s not so great, and still other times, I exceed my own expectations and am personally wowed. That’s when I pat myself on the back and proceed to forget everything I did to create the magic.

But it’s no small task recreating things you’ve had at one time in a great restaurant.  You’ve got to possess some incredibly resilient taste buds with some kind of elephant memory or something.

On the other hand, it’s totally possible to wow the people you are feeding, without going all Julia Child on them. If you’ve been reading my blogs for a while, you should know this by now: If there is an easy way, I’m going to find it and do it, if I’m not already doing it.

Here’s a hint: This “wowing” is accomplished by cheating.

I do this often (also no surprise). Especially when I’m hungry and I run across an item that will provide me the “cheat” I’m looking for.

This brings me to the other day.

When I came home to cook dinner, I’d been at the market hungry and feeling creative.  The plan was to make really great stir fry, but I just wanted a little something extra. I’d perused the aisles and came across frozen Chicken Shui Mai.

Do you know what this is, you guys?  It’s a little wonton shaped food icon (if food possesses a weird shape, it’s a food icon, like the little twitter bird icon or the little man for “readit”).

shumai

These are Chicken Shui Mai icons.

 

Shui Mai is like a dumpling of YUMMINESS. And the frozen variety usually comes with dipping sauce (I highly recommend it from Trader Joe’s). Ignoring the directions on the package, because, hey – I’ve eaten this stuff. I’ve got this – I whipped out my skillet and sautéed those babies with fresh onion and garlic, a little salt and pepper… It wasn’t long before it was ready to present.

When I brought it out, announcing the Chicken Shui Mail to M.C. Nugget he asked, “Wow! What brings this on?”

Pause…

“Is this the breakup meal?“

I laughed. The guy cracks me up. I can’t help it.

“No seriously! You know what they say… Chicken Shui Mai and it’s all over…”

Okay. This KILLED me! I was laughing, but I promised to stop making it.

…..

…..

It’s no longer known as the breakup meal.

It’s been requested for next Tuesday.

 

 

Image credit: http://rasamalaysia.com/recipe-chicken-shu-mai-siu-mai/

#DailyMisChief, #Recipes, #Cooking, #Dating, #Breakup