Ms.Cheevious

Hellooooow my dahlings!  Ms. Cheevious here.  From the Big Apple.  New York City.  Gotham.

I’m here on business and through Thanksgiving.  Forgive me while I am here, because I will be unable to send further dispatches. I’ll have plenty of fun and exciting stories to tell upon my return – and just in time for the Holidays!  Talk about Holiday Cheer!

But before I go, and before the Thanksgiving Holiday, don’t forget:  There are a multitude of things to be thankful for – no matter WHAT your situation.  I am thankful for life, as full and incredibly beautiful as I allow it to be.  For my two wonderfully intelligent, funny and inspiring sons. For my mother, and my sisters and brothers, who continually remind me where I came from, keep me grounded, and offer the unconditional love we all crave. For my friends and loved ones who you’ve all come to know and love as well- Sheila, Stealth, Britt, Fred the Wonder Chicken, Musicality, Ricky, Lucy – and so many more (I can’t even come close to naming them all) who are as close, as friendly, as caring and lovely as they can possibly be, making my life a fabulously outstanding adventure.  And for you!  Without you, there would be no reason for these wild and wacky posts!

Until after Turkey Day, my friends.

Love you people!  Mmmmmmmphhhhuuhhhhhh!!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

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Blog content copyright 2008, LISA JEY DAVIS a.k.a. Ms. Cheevious

Avast there mateys!  Be afraid! Be very afraid!  Sit closer together with yer’ loved ones, to protect yerselves.  This post is sure to deliver a mass of sorted tales of mayhem, with plundering pirates lurking in every corner.

Ye come, seeking adventure with a vast array of plundering (and sexy) pirates, eh?  Sure, you’ve come to the proper place.  But keep a weather eye open, mates, and hold on tight with both hands, if you please.  Thar be squalls ahead, and Davey Jones waiting for them that don’t obey!

To learn what the most daring (and sexy) of pirates do to amuse themselves on All Hallows Eve (Halloween for ye lowly scalliwags), read on.  But beware, and sit tight.  If ye are new to this blog, again I warn ye – Beware!

The daringest (and sexiest) of pirates make the pilgrimage to the city of Gold – that is Las Vegas, of course.  They do it to wreak havoc and cause turmoil, plundering and pillaging wherever their wooden (or sexy) legs will carry them.

My weekend with my pirate mates, Captain Fred the Wonder Chicken and the fair pirate wench Britt, was suppose to commence on Friday morn, half past ten.  (Okay – enough with the pirate talk.  Back to reality now!  ha ha!)

We planned to hop in the car, barring any other issues, and drive to Vegas together, laughing all the way, as we plotted and schemed for our takeover of that glittery fortress. 

On Thursday, however, Britt had the remarkably brilliant idea of leaving THAT evening and playing until dawn.  FWC and I, being the spontaneous and boisterous sort of pirates that we are, agreed it was a brilliant plan.  Even pirates need to have fun before they get to work.

It started at the the Golden Nugget, where we sexy (don’t forget), yet disturbingly SCARY pirates ransacked, pillaged and looted all the way to our room.  I tell ya, the Golden Nugget didn’t know what hit them! Our final resting place for the rest of the weekend, The Bellagio Hotel, hadn’t seen pillaging like that since the LAST time Fred the Wonder Chicken was in Vegas, and THAT day has gone down in the annals of Sin City HISTORY, I’m sure. 

We had an incredible suite with a view that was BREATHTAKING.  I’m sure it was all an attempt by the hotel to get us to behave, but THAT didn’t work!

Room with a view - and what a view...Wonders Never Cease - And I'm Not Talking Chicken Wonders! HA!

On Halloween night, we donned our best dress pirate wears, and I sat down for some photos.  I didn’t want to do it, but I was the Pirate Queen, and a queen’s job is never done.

Beware the Pirate Queen

Suddenly, Captain Fred the Wonder Chicken grabbed me (he’s so manly for a chicken) and put a sword to my throat.  It was really sketchy there for a minute.  But then I reminded him that we still had a full night of plundering and seeking out wenches to come and play.  That was all it took.

Yikes! Please don't hurt me Mister Scary Chicken Pirate!

Though pillaging and plundering was on our minds, our first order of business for the night was to get some GRUB.  And that we did.  We had the most fabulous meal to be had in the Bellagio resort, at their restaurant Yellowtail.  Even Captain FWC ate things he never thought he would.  We seamen and women grow weary of eating fish, and some of us surely don’t want to eat it raw.  But that’s what Yellowtail was all about.  Sushi. YUMMY. It was all good.

So, here’s a question for you.  Where do sexy pirates, once well fed and full of good wine, go to plunder and pillage?  Why to The Bank, of course.  That is the Bellagio’s hot night club.  One of the hottest spots in town. 

We took our swords and daggers and stormed the entrance to The Bank, and look at what we found inside:

The VIP floor was FULL of beautiful, (some scantily clad) people. They corralled them there for the costume contest to be judged later that night.  These girls (Yep.  These very girls were there!) were trying for the big 10,000 dollar prize. I think they should have won.  Me, Ms. Cheevious, never wanting to be left out, scurried down to the VIP floor to dance with them!  The guards to the VIP area wouldn’t let Captain FWC down to enjoy their company as well.  Only women were allowed in, and of course as the Pirate Queen, I was graciously admitted.  Alas, though I enjoyed dancing with these beauties, I had to be mindful of my queenly duties, and save all manner of debauchery for later. Hee hee.

True to form, ladies and gentlemen, I’ve managed to tell another tale of mischievous behavior, as if it happens every day.  I’d like to say it’s just another day in the life, but I promise, I am just another “girl next door.”  Only better.

Have a wonderful weekend my sweet things!

Love you people! Mmmmmphhhuuuhhhhh!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

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Blog content copyright 2008, LISA JEY DAVIS a.k.a. Ms. Cheevious 

So – Did I ever tell you about a funny little incident that occurred right after my twelve year old son moved to New Mexico to live with his dad? 

My son – I’ll call him Graden here – was happy and settling in to his new digs, and I was going berserk. So I flew out to visit my son, using his “back to school night” event at school as the excuse. 

I knew it would go over like a lead balloon – Just when Graden thought he’d gotten rid of me, and was fast on his way to living a happy bachelor existence with his dad, there I was to make sure he remembered what it felt like to have a mom around.

So, I decided to keep it a surprise.  His dad picked me up at the airport, and we were on our way to Graden’s school to meet up with him.  It was also to be my grand entrance into the life of Graden’s new teachers.  Now they were all going to know that – yes – my son has a mom – and yes – she still cares.

As we approached the school, Graden’s dad (my ex-husband) called him to arrange a place to meet.  Graden apparently said he was hanging out with Tanya. 

“Who’s Tanya?” my ex asked. “Is that your new girlfriend?”

All I could hear was the sound of my son’s voice, and my ex’s reply, “Friends with benefits?!  What does THAT mean?” he roared, laughingly.

Thus began the lengthy conversation about what it really does mean to have “friends with benefits” in the eyes and psyche of a twelve year old boy.

He of course said that it didn’t mean anything except to hang out and call each other all the time, and spend time together. That they could say they were “hanging out” and not “boyfriend / girlfriend,” “dating” or “going steady.” 

Okay.  I have to pause here and say that first of all, I am not an idiot.  I think my son really DOES know in his head what it means to be “friends with benefits” – at least in terms of in society and in the media.  If you hear that phrase referred to in a movie or television, you know these two people are screwing around, with no commitment.  I get the sense that my son is pretty savvy that way.

But Graden’s explanation sounded awfully familiar to dating among my own peer group.  I can’t tell you how many thirty-something friends of mine STILL avoid the “D” word (dating) or the “BF/GF” i.d. and say “yeah, we’ve been hanging out.” 

Had I heard that about seven or so years ago – just after my divorce, I would have reacted far differently – probably worried that my son wasn’t learning how to be solid, or committed or caring.  Not so now.  I found my son’s comment quite funny, and was proud that he could be so open about himself and his life.

Now, here is where I am going to get a little controversial. 

I  know.  You’re thinking, ‘Ms. Cheevious? Controversial?’  I admit, it’s a stretch. 

But I’ve always thought I was cut from a different cloth than most girls.  I think having friends with benefits is quite healthy.  As a matter of fact, I have always taken that line of thinking further than most.  For instance, when I was married, I use to tell my husband I wouldn’t mind if he had an affair.  And I meant it.  I just always believed very strongly that men needed more in their lifetime.  They can certainly CHOOSE to be with one woman, but that is another matter.  Men are just different.

Okay now.  All you players out there – I don’t want to receive any HATE MAIL, or HATE POSTS for that matter, from your girlfriends or wives.  My observations and beliefs about male/female relationships are NOT a source of ammunition.  They are just my own personal beliefs and preferences. 

Let me break it down for you: 

I love to be treasured.  I think men like to be treasured as well. 

There is a distinct difference between treasure and possession.  I don’t have any interest in possessing – and I certainly cannot be possessed.  But I also can’t be with someone if I am not respected or cherished – if I am not longed for, or in the heart, or on the mind of that special someone.  There is nothing like that feeling when you care for someone, and they reciprocate.

But I am my own person too.  I love what I do, and I love becoming the “me” that I am from day to day.  I don’t need to feel that my man is all mine. 

The fact is, many women are NOT built that way.  I suspect my son’s friend Tanya had NO real idea what she was agreeing to (I’d be happy to be wrong, here).  In her mind, it probably just sounded cool, or made her sound cool to all the other cool kids. 

The truth of the matter is, most of my lovely girlfriends are very possessive about their men.  And that is OKAY.  It’s what they want!  They want their man, and they want him to want them – in a Wuthering Heights, romantic sort of way.  I don’t blame my girlfriends.  I love them and respect them in all their dreams for their lives!  Hey – I love to be showered with affection and attention, and I love to bestow it!  Who doesn’t?

We humans all start out young and vibrant, then we age, and grow older and wiser, and we hopefully learn to appreciate beauty when we see and experience it.  But don’t forget, all things do come to an end.  None of us gets out of this life alive.  If that doesn’t put an end to something, I don’t know what will!

On the Friends with Benefits note:  I’ve been there, done that.  It was fun and adventurous while it lasted.  Then it ran its course and ended.  I am still friends with that guy (or guys), but we’ve evolved to being just that – friends. Like all “things” that must come to an end, so ended our friends with benefits “thing.”

My philosophy?  I love just enjoying every single moment. Enjoy the people you know, and let them enjoy you. 

Okay – whew!  That’s it for now folks.  How was that for a walk through the philosophical musings of Ms. Cheevious?! Who would have thought a harmless comment by my twelve year old son would take me down this path?! Kids are amazing.

Tune in next time when I tell you about  the Pirates Who Pillaged Las Vegas!  Talk about Treasure! ARRGH!

Have a great weekend everyone!  And LOVE THE ONE YOU’RE WITH!

Love you people!

Mmmmmmmphhhhuuhhhhhhhh!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

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Blog content copyright 2008, LISA JEY DAVIS a.k.a. Ms. Cheevious