Ms. Cheevious in Hollywood

My Zany Years Spent Working in Tinsel Town

Ms. Cheevious

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