To say I need a real ahhhhhh…haaaaaa moment after the week…
scratch that… after the last few months I’ve had, is the understatement of the decade. But it’s true: We all need a real ahhhhhh…haaaaaa moment from time to time, and for me, that time is right about now.
Last Friday, an über huge event I produced (and was also the publicist for) in a Pacific Northwest town came off without a hitch (well, almost). When I say über huge, I mean huge ass, with whipped cream and cherries on top huge.
My first challenge was to navigate the political structure between my client (the money) and the folks he was partnered with (a nightclub and the venue for the event). Think about it. My moniker is MsCheevious. Ms. Cheevious Women do not do well with phrases like “political” and “structure,” particularly when they are forced on us, or when… say… we accidentally, maybe, just land there… let alone the fact we make it our mission in life to enjoy every moment. How the hell is that supposed to happen in circumstances like these?
First off, my client’s partners didn’t see the need to hire me and had in fact hired their own local publicity firm. Seems like a waste of money to me to have two firms for a venue opening, but that ship had sailed, and it was time to get to work.
My client was a great support to me. He stressed from the very beginning to his partners that my company was in charge of the event, and that everything was to be run through me and my staff. Period.
That was nice.
It never happened. But it was nice.
Let me break it down simply.
All of the things that I insisted on and steamrolled through, against the protests or objections of most, were the very things that were the hit of the party.
Most of what occurred without my knowledge or involvement were the very things that could have ruined the party. (Of course, because I assumed the permanent role of Ms. Fixit, nothing in hell was going to ruin the party).
Thank GOD I had a stellar team to help produce the event. Though the message everyone originally wanted for the club and the event, and the message we ended up with (just two days before the event) were worlds apart, it all came together quite nicely.
The red carpet (and this is the part I promised in my last post “I’m Your Bridge (Over Troubled Water) Baby” about the little celebs that could) welcomed stars from The Big Bang Theory, The Neighbors, Hot in Cleveland, The Secret Life of the American Teenager, and more. Even with all of the issues and the fact we weren’t authorized to publicize much until two days prior to the event, we were able to get all of the major wire service press, local magazine and business journal outlets and a correspondent from Coco Perez (Perez Hilton’s fashion website). I would have preferred more national attention, and certainly more local press, but only so much can be done or expected with a list of obstacles a mile long.
I’m exhausted. I simply work too hard. Don’t we all?
All I can think about is relaxing and giving myself a break.
I swear.to.god. I’m pulling out my yoga routine from my book ”Ahhhhhh…Haaaaaa Moments with Ms. Cheevious” today (and many other days this week) and DOING IT.
It’s the very Yoga routine I taught at the Aspen Club & Day Spa back in the day when I lived in Aspen. People loved my class, and always said they felt so rejuvenated and refreshed afterward. It’s an e-book with photos of me, showing YOU how to do it (and no, you do not need a Kindle or Nook to use it. It can be used on your own device with Kindle for Mac, Kindle for iPad, iPhone or Kindle for PC, which are all free).
You’d think I wouldn’t need the book, since I use to teach this class, right? But hey – I have a lot on my mind. There is only so much real estate left in my brain, and I simply can’t give up space to etch these things in. That’s why I made a book with a lot of pretty pictures. I also made it so that you everyday Joe and Jane types (who don’t do yoga – or maybe you do) can LOOSEN UP. You’d be amazed how much more effectively you can actually do things… do “life,” when you simply STRETCH your body.
I’d wager a bet that even if you don’t have a day job or a stressful career like me, you still work too damn hard. Things beyond your control like politics at work, drama or ineptitude all create tension in your bod. Basically, you’re walking around like a tightly wound string that is about to POP!
And I don’t know about you, but I do not have the luxury of “popping.” I have to get on to the next event people! There is no rest for the Ms. Cheevious Woman (or Mr. Cheevious guy for that matter)!
So get to it.
It will be a treat to YOU if you do something to make your body feel relaxed and refreshed. You can pick yours up here for just under $2.00.
TWO – FREAKIN’ – BUCKS PEOPLE.
As you can see, selling these books is not going to facilitate my early retirement plan. I do it out of love for you. Because I’m that nice.
But you actually have to click the little link-y thing and get yourself a copy to see any benefits. Then after you’ve gotten a copy, please write a real and true review. I’ll send you something nice, shiny and new that you will like (it will be something cool, and you’ll get to choose) if you do write a review by April 10th (2013) and you let me know about it at mscheevious at mscheevious dot com (you can figure that email out right?).
But if you don’t get a copy for yourself or someone else you know who needs to CHILL OUT, then please: try to relax and treat yourself well on your own, would you? We need you here. A few minutes of stretching, maybe some hot tea and a cookie on any given day could do you a world of good and keep you around longer for all of us to enjoy.
Love you people! Mmmmppphhhuuuhhh!!!
xoxo,
Ms. Cheevious
aka Lisa Jey Davis
Editor in [Mis]Chief
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All Blog content copyright 2013, LISA JEY DAVIS aka Ms. Cheevious
Guest Post By Marrie Lobel
Drama, trouble, pain, heartache, stress, disappointment, and fear; the seven dwarf bastards that swoop in like thieves in the night hijacking your smiles and turning calm seas into troubled waters. Recently, my home was invaded by several of these brazen bandits.
Though I am directly involved in the commotion; the heaviest blows were levied on my man, Dr. A. After the initial shock of the chaos wore off, I observed Dr. A cope with his emotions. His mind was consumed and our home in disarray by the turmoil of events that were completely out of our control. This was the most beaten I had seen him. My knight in shining armor, my pillar of strength, my Superman had just been buried in a pile of kryptonite. I wanted to leap into action like Wonder Woman, slaying all his foes and healing him with my Amazonian powers; however, I stood frozen. I knew that the best way to be there for him was to stop, survey the damage, and take my next steps with care. I appreciated that he didn’t need to be rescued, what he needed was support in order to see his own way through. I couldn’t save him, stop the pain or even eliminate his enemies…only he could do that. I was there to hold the candle of hope in case his light grew dim. Dr. A didn’t need a super hero but rather a friend, much like a Sherpa who can help him through the perilous territory in case he began to lose his way. I am his partner, his equal, his comrade in life…not his savior. Dr. A was a man who in his own time of need, taught me a valuable lesson about how to support a loved one when they need it the most.
Shut Up & Listen
I let Dr. A vent his feelings without commenting on even the most irrational thoughts. I know him to be a reasonable, intelligent man but his pain consumed him and his raw emotions took over. He had the right to express himself freely, without fear of retribution or shame. I had to shut the hell up, swallow my 2 cents, and hear with compassion. Dr. A deserved the freedom to slay his own anguish; with strong words and intense visions.
Not the time for ‘I told you so”
There were times he spoke word-for-word predictions I had shared in previous conversations; but what purpose would serving him cold humble pie on a silver platter prove? To what end? Slurping my ego back into my throat; I swallowed the desire to be right. Dr. A’s pain was not the goal of sharing my predictions initially; only an attempt to prepare him from possible end games. End games I prayed I had predicted incorrectly.
Offer advice…ONLY WHEN ASKED
The shameless dwarfs of heartache, stress, pain, and drama eventually loosened their grasp. Dr. A began to stand taller, speak more objectively and strategize on how to deal with the problem. I listened with an open heart and an open mind. I kept my 2 cents buried. It wasn’t until Dr. A invited me in and openly asked for advice that I coughed up my opinions. Keeping my mouth shut allowed me to hear ALL that Dr. A had to say. He shared his feelings, perspectives, and hopeful outcomes. With all of this information I was better prepared to help guide him; understanding better where he wanted to go!
Don’t fight his battle
More than anything I wanted to kick some ass. I wanted to fight all the wrong-doers who caused Dr. A unjustified misery with my mythical girl powers. Not that he couldn’t defeat them on his own…I was pissed; not just peeved but mad cow, full blown, bat-shit-cRaZy furious. I had to continually remind myself that my words and deeds could make a bad situation worse. I also had to keep in mind that Dr. A wanted to fight his own battle and didn’t need me poking my bitch stick at the hornets’ nest. He could take care of himself and my temper would need to be kept on ice.
Offer perspective
Distressing events have a way of making problems appear larger. There were moments shortly after the ambush where Dr. A’s hurt began to invade and corrupt his perception of otherwise unaffected aspects of his life. At first I listened but if his vision continued to be skewed, I helped to remove the goggles and gently pointed to the view as it was.
Understand the emotions come in waves
After a couple of weeks, Dr. A’s flash of anger and frustration were less frequent and intense. However, even though time has a way of healing all wounds; the scars remain. I understood that although life went on, our house began to settle, and Dr. A appeared back to his old self; the side-effects would be long lasting. There were moments where I saw him lost in thought realizing that a wave of retrospection and twinge of hurt had risen to the surface. And that’s OK. I asked if he needed to talk and if he said ‘yes’ I listened…otherwise I dropped it.
Being there to support my man wasn’t always easy. The feelings of pain, anger, and frustration spilled on me like wine on a party dress but keeping my feelings, thoughts, and actions in check allowed me to support someone I care for in his most vulnerable moments. Despite the attack from the bold dwarf bastards, we survived the battle with a stronger relationship. We are better prepared for whatever storms await us as we sail through life. The seas won’t always be calm but at least Dr. A and I know that we will never have to navigate rough seas alone; providing guidance and loving support every step of the way.
This post was originally published on Marrie’s website Dirty In Public.
Special thanks to Marrie for allowing us to share one of my all time favorite of her articles here on Ms. Cheevious! Please share this article on Facebook & Twitter, and comment on this to show how much you agree — if you have time, you Rock Star, you.
Tune in next time for a post dishing on a city in the Pacific Northwest and some “little celebs that could…”
Love you people! Mmmmppphhhuuuhhh!!!
xoxo,
Ms. Cheevious
Editor in [Mis]Chief
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ABOUT MARRIE LOBEL
Marrie is a Geekalicious NorCal Betty masquerading opinions about dating, sex & relationships as fact through dirty talk & wicked rants. You can read more on her personal blog, Dirty In Public and on Singles Warehouse where she is a #SWEXPERT contributor.
MORE WAYS TO FIND MARRIE
Website: www.DirtyInPublic.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/DirtyInPublic @DirtyInPublic
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DirtyInPublic
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All Blog content copyright 2012, LISA JEY DAVIS aka Ms. Cheevious
NOTE FROM MS. CHEEVIOUS:
You knew the day would come when my beau M.C. Nugget would agree to cook up a blog for MsCheevious! Considering he is one of the funniest and most clever writers I know, I’m ecstatic! And so, without further adieu, I give you… The Nugg…
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Well, greetings ladies and gentlemen and fellow barnyard critters. Mc. Nugget, FKA Fred the Wonder Chicken here, guest blogging. Apparently Ms. Cheevious’ good writers are all busy.
Well then… How about a little minutia? The proverbial “mole hill,” which I will endeavor to turn into a mountain (cause, it’s the little things)…
Michelle Obama on the Oscars.
My human counterpart touched on this on Facebook and got quite a response. So now it’s your turn.
Full disclosure; I lean to the left. This scruffy chicken voted for the big “O” and I think his wife is a great First Lady. She tries to keep our chubby youth thin, (quite an undertaking), and she represents her office with class. However……
What were you thinking Academy??
Really? Did you not suppose that her appearance might serve to polarize say… HALF your audience? Yes, Republicans watch the Oscars too (although just for the commercials)! I mean Hollywood is already known as the Mordor of the left, so why stoke that fire? There actually are GOP supporters in the entertainment industry, by the way. I know. I saw one once. From a distance…. He looked uncomfortable…
Now you’re saying, “what’s the big deal?” “Lighten up.” “Don’t you have anything better to do?” “Take off that stupid hat!” “I’m calling Ms Cheevious to complain!” Remember today is all about…MINUTIA!
So, where were we? Oh yeah. See, these days anything that can be construed as political becomes political. It has nothing to do with intention. I don’t think the Academy intended to make a political statement but you put the First Lady up on a 70 foot screen in front of the most powerful people in Hollywood, with the Best Picture envelope in her hand, then beam it ‘round the world, it’s gonna’ get some attention. I know a guy with a fading Romney bumper sticker still on his car, who wasn’t even watching, and he broke out in a cold sweat! Some of the comments I got on Facebook were none too friendly either… on both sides.
My point, I guess, is that we are a pretty divided country. People wear their politicians like the jersey of their favorite football team, and get really pissed off when they lose. (If you’ve ever been to a Raiders game, you know what I’m talking about). Hollywood, presenting Michelle Obama as some kind of prize that they helped create, (and believe me there are people who think that), doesn’t help that division. And it’s not what the Academy Awards are about. I think she stole a little thunder from Argo….. Yeah I know: “Arrrr-go F*#k yourself!”
But here’s the big problem… the BIG question… When did that envelope get TO THE White House? And who peeked?? Come on, you know someone did! This is the “government” we’re talking about … keeping a “secret.” That’s like oil & water, kids. If nothing else, do you really think that they’re gonna let some clown get off a plane from LA and hand the First Lady an envelope without checking it for Anthrax?
Come on! Someone took a peek inside that envelope, before she got it! And I wanna’ know if any calls went out from the White House to Vegas an hour before the show!
Just one cynical chicken’s point of view.
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Ms. Cheevious
aka Lisa Jey Davis
Editor in [Mis] Chief
When one is in Las Vegas, life everywhere else is put on hold. That said, even though I have no business sitting at a computer to do this (because I have real work here people), you shall now be treated to a photo blog of some fun times with M.C. Nugget and our peeps. And these are not just any kind of photos. These are PHOTOS of PHOTOS (which means the pics were taken on my camera, and I couldn’t upload them to the computer. So, I took photos of my camera’s viewing screen with my iPhone to share here. I’m good, I tell ya.).
But before I go, I have one question:
Does the phrase “What Happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas” apply to fat? I’d like the fat I got in Vegas to stay here.
Okay – so it’s not a photo of a photo… well it sort of is. It’s what kicked off this great event… My V-Day card from the Chicken man.
Me and the Chicken Man the first night at Rhumbar. Fun.
This is creepy… ahhh the photo of photo doesn’t always look great. LOL
Me and my girl on night TWO at Rhumbar. More Fun.
The Nuggie with a good friend, and a pretty stranger… Okay – he has a small head… I try.
- The Nug-Meister with his Cigar
Again with the Cigar, but in reverse. He’s just so sexy.
Nuggie and I at Hard Rock.. What? No face?
Another shot of me and the man at Hard Rock… still no face?
Nugget at Hard Rock… of course… no face… because he is THE NUGGET.
And the “last but not least” photo of a photo – of the cool Vegas Hard Rock Cafe.
That’s it people. Go forth and enjoy your week!
Love you people!!!! Mmmmmpppphhhuuuhhhh!!!
xoxo,
Ms. Cheevious
aka Lisa Jey Davis
Editor in [Mis] Chief
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I was inspired to write this post, because of all the snow talk… talk of the record-breaking blizzards and snow storms that hit the Northeast here in the U.S. over the past few days.
Do you recall last winter (remember, back in 2011 and 2012?), how people seemed astonished by how mild the weather was? The entire country was convinced that there was truth to the global warming thing, because it seemed that none of the ski areas had good snow. Some never even opened. In the entire country.
That’s a huge landscape people.
People whined and complained about it. I always listen in disbelief when people talk about the winter being too warm. When I was a kid, I was out sunbathing in sixty degree weather. I lived for “warm.” But complaining about a mild winter? That’s risky. I love how the blogger Dooce stated that she wanted to butt into those conversations with a can of mace:
“Because the Universe? It is always listening. And it’s like, oh? Really? You want snow? YOU JUST WAIT. Because this winter I’m going to pin you down and shove snow down your maw so hard you that are going to poop ice through Labor Day.
The Universe was so not kidding. In fact, the Universe is Tony Soprano.”
M.C. Nugget (my beau) and I were guilty of this very same whining and complaining last year ourselves. We weren’t thrilled with the mere pittance of snowfall received at Mammoth Ski Area, because it was the one and only place in years that either one of us had relented and actually bought and paid for a season pass. So, in a sense, we had every right to complain. We had a vested interest, and the great Mountain did not deliver.
But I gotta tell you something. Here in Southern California, it was only a few short weeks ago we were shocked and awed by our 85 degree summer-like weather. We’d just gotten a few weeks past the news of the East coast Hurricane Sandy horrors, and still, things here grew warmer and balmier.
People were talking about it, and loving life here on the sunny left coast. I overheard someone saying how they remembered Januaries here as always experiencing a bit of a heat wave. I don’t have a recollection of it being the case every year, but eh? What did I care? It was warm and yummy out. That was good enough for me. I nodded and smiled.
Then over the course of the next few weeks our warm balmy weather started to turn cloudy, foggy, rainy. What was happening? I tried to ignore it. I thought surely it was a freak of nature and our warm balmy breezes would soon return. No. We had some ups and downs. It would get warm, and then it was like the universe was having a wicked, amusement with us, wringing it’s hands “Mwahahaha…” It was warm, then cold. Sunny, then foggy. Warm again for a few days last week, and our hopes were kindled. We breathed out in relief.
But then it happened. No sooner did the weather forecasters warn of dangerous blizzards, record-breaking temperatures and snow falls on the East coast, that we here in Santa Monica started to feel the chill in the air again too. The wind and rain and chill grew more intense.
As I put on my Uggs, and pull my puffy coat back out of the crevice in the closet reserved for forgotten winter gear to run a quick errand, I’m a little miffed. NO. I’m EXTREMELY MIFFED. I’m kinda tired of hearing about your snow problems. First it’s “There isn’t enough snow! wah wah wah”… then it’s “OH NO… THERE IS TOO MUCH SNOW.” Which is it people?
Someone took my SUNSHINE, for goddsakes. That is just wrong. And I think the East coast is to blame. The record breaking cold temperatures, snowfall and dangerous blizzards probably caused some kind of planetary shift in weather patterns… so it’s bye bye warm and sunny, hello gooey, dewy, drizzly, foggy schmutzy weather.
So, there shall be no more whining about your sad snow. There has been quite enough whiny snow talk. Boo hoo hoo… you’re too cold? Well so am I. So stop your whining, UNKAY? I want my Indian Summer back! If you’d like to appease me or set my mind at ease, you could send me some Irish Whiskey or something to warm me up. That might help.
Now I think I better go out for a walk on the cool, brisk beach.
Love you people!!!! Mmmmmpppphhhuuuhhhh!!!
xoxo,
Ms. Cheevious
aka Lisa Jey Davis
Editor in [Mis] Chief
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