Ms. Cheevious in Hollywood

My Zany Years Spent Working in Tinsel Town

MsCheevious

Meeting your love match this fall may require some work

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And THIS right here may be your ticket ===>  matchlogo_grad

 

When my divorce was finally FINAL after a couple of years of separation and negotiations with my ex, I had already been dipping my toe into the dating world pool. Shhhh… don’t tell anyone.

In fact, I couldn’t wait for my divorce to be final at the time, because suddenly I was confronted with the wonderful world of other guys who were actually, really and truly interested and attracted to ME (go FIGURE).

As much as I had no idea what was in store for my world sans my significant other, I also knew moving forward without a ROCKIN’ social life was never going to be an option. My choices were obvious: dig in and let some new people in, or die. And you guys, I am NOT now, nor have I ever been into dying.

 

And here is one of those annoying little unavoidables we divorced mommies and daddies must face:

 

meeting a LOVE MATCH may actually require some work – no matter what a “love match” means to you.

 

Never being afraid of work, I was one of the first in my circle of single girlfriends to dive into online dating. I’ll never forget the weekend I set up my first-ever profile on MATCH. I spent a good part of the afternoon crafting a witty and informative profile, adding some fun photos. I knew I wanted to meet men, but I wasn’t interested in a relationship (I’d just gotten out of one I hadn’t liked so much). I stated that little fact loud and clear at the top of my profile. About an hour later my inbox bulged with hundreds of messages from men also not wanting a relationship. Again, go FIGURE. But really, I wanted to meet new people, I made known what I was looking for and it WORKED.

I later rethought my goals and tweaked my profile (after filling my social calendar with a few too many guys I couldn’t keep track of, and after growing tired of coffee).

Whitney Casey Interview

I admit, it took some work to set up, but the part of the work I hadn’t thought of was getting into the dating part of it. You know… you gotta actually GO on a date if you want to meet your Mr. or Ms. Right some day? Go FIGURE.

And that is how Whitney Casey, Relationship Expert with Match.com puts it too… Yep. I brought in the big guns. In conjunction with a fall promotion Match.com is doing for Single Parents, they agreed to allow me to interview Whitney for you lovely people.

Something that I learned in talking to these great folks is that Single Parents who use online dating sites have 2x’s the dating success than those who don’t date online. So although you may feel like it’s all smarm and that no good can come of diving into online dating, the odds you are right and that is true DO NOT ADD UP. This means, if you’re a single parent wanting to meet someone special, the time is ripe (and so is the fruit in my experience… just sayin). I also found out that you won’t be alone if you choose to dive in. Over a third of the members on Match.com are single parents! And you’ll find out some cool things about what people looking for love think about dating single parents in my interview below.

The point is, it is about damn time to get back in the saddle ladies and gentlemen. The dates aren’t going to happen on their own.

But WATCH this quick video interview I did with Whitney, because I asked her all of. the questions you’ll BOTH want to know the answers to (guys and gals)… all about what to say (and not) on your first date, how to create a rockin’ profile, and a couple of other great tips!

WATCH IT NOW:

If for some reason your browser does not display the video box above, click here to view the fun and informative interview.

This post has been graciously sponsored by match.com because match.com is helping single parents find their love match this fall.  Get over there to sign up and get back in the saddle again you hot-hot-hottie mchottlesteins. 

 

That time when ignorance really was bliss

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Two days ago I was driving with Nuggie and the radio was playing a familiar song by Lifehouse called “Hanging by a Moment.”

I was singing along, when I experienced a rare moment in drive-time singing: that instant when you pay attention and realize you are and always have been singing the wrong lyrics.

I sang this:

“I’m falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I’ve held on to
I’m standing here until you make me blue…“

you know, because, the guy wasn’t going anywhere until the girl he loved paid attention to him. Even if it meant turning blue. I laughed and realized how I had imagined the guy was holding his breath, waiting desperately for someone, and somehow I crossed metaphors in my singing. You know those stubbornness, hanging on by a thread, holding your breath til you turn blue, and not being willing to move until someone makes you metaphors? Yeah, those.

How amazingly complex and artistically intricate the brain can be that I was able to mix metaphors into something that actually rhymed, right?!

Yeah, that’s it. It was my brilliance that made me sing about a guy turning blue from standing around.

But that’s not the worst of it. I’ve long been a vocalist. You may not know this about me but I attended college on a scholarship for my voice. So I have a special respect for singing and music, in general. But I love it as well, and when given the opportunity, I often indulge.

When I realized as I drove along the road, somewhat abruptly that my lyrics all these years had been wrong, I somehow was transported to a barbecue a few years back hosted by a friend of ours. Our friend the host’s band was performing, which of course meant I would be joining them, no matter how much I’d had to drink.

I remember telling our friend I absolutely loved “(fill in the blank)” band and had sung all of their songs in high school.

So, while I was up there with THE BAND getting ready TO SING unbeknownst to me the video was rolling. The band started to play, and I started to sing. Only, shockingly what came out were indecipherable lyrics, because — you guessed it: I couldn’t remember the lyrics. So, though my memory is foggy, it went something like this: “Yeahhhhhh… uhhhhnnnn… hnnnnnn… love youuuuuu…”

You get the picture. It was a prime example of my brilliance at work. The best of the worst part? One of my best girlfriends couldn’t make the party while we were there, but arrived a while later. She reported with a teasing grin that she’d had the fantastic pleasure of watching the video of my moment on stage.

Ah, the glory, the lights.

With that I’ll leave you with a video of the song that started this post, and a complete and full admission that I’m much more suited to writing professionally. Because singing should be left to people like this.

But I must admit. When I thought I knew the lyrics to that Lifehouse song, and I sang it happily. Those were the days. That was when ignorance really was bliss.

Lifehouse

 

I know. Yes. They’re hot. Enjoy.

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