The Members Lounge

Please line up in an orderly fashion and take a number.

Because you are like the 100th person this week to ask me for a little “advice”, also known as “free work”.

This must happen in a million professions. People ask the doctor, “gee, I’ve got this pain on my left side”. They ask the shrink, “gosh, I don’t know whether my kid is anti-social or just a teenager”? And they ask me, the web and graphic gal, any number of things:

Hey, can you spruce up my website? By that, I mean design original and expensive art?

Hey, can you update all the broken links on my site and upload it again? And you don’t want to give me a list, you’d like me to track that crap down like a scavenger hunt?

Hey, can you post a blurb to my site? Don’t worry, whatever copy you come up with will be fine!

I especially hate when people ask me a one favor, and then throw in an extensive list of “other” things. And in the case of this past weekend, they send a laundry list first thing on Sunday morning. And give me a deadline. On my quiet day. The day I really like to think about nothing, except reading my Sunday paper and gearing up for a noontime Bloody Mary.

The good part of this is, that Meg is now officially a BIG GIRL. And by that, I mean I’m fully in the second half of my life, and I don’t really feel the need to take on tasks I don’t want to, and feel guilty about it.

Gosh, I’m sorry, I am unable to help you with that. I don’t have time.

It took a long freaking time to let those words pass my lips. But let me tell you something younger ladies, you have a lot to look forward to when you are my age.

What you lose in flexibility and add in weight, you gain in wisdom.

Now serving…. number one. That would be me.

Tags: asking favors, doing work for free, saying to to people

In a quest to be a slightly better me, I have been hanging out with this thing called a Mii. The Mii is actually the Wii Fit avatar, and apparently it’s exerting more influence over me than most people I know! (family excluded, I haven’t gone totally crazy!)

Meet my avatar:

So the first thing they do on Wii Fit is measure your BMI (Body Mass Index) and weigh you via the core board. And then they morph your avatar by adding WEIGHT onto it, so you get the MESSAGE. The message being, do you want to see this little cartoon shrink and be happy, or will I have to add some extra bulges the next time you work out?

Strangely, this seems to be very motivating. The Wii Fit is surprisingly fun and interactive. It has a cross section of aerobic, yoga, strength and balance activities that are pretty challenging. So far I’m able to run a mile and a half, and due to many summers of a childhood pastime, I can still rock the house doing this:

Some things I’m better at than others. I’m making progress with the step and kung-fu, but the boxing is still at this point:

I couldn’t snap an actual photo as I was hunched over, but the boxing coach yelled at me for allegedly not even breaking a sweat during my several rounds of boxing. Somehow, I’ve got to develop a better relationship with Coach.

On the Yoga front, I got this feedback:

Oh Miss Trainer, I love you! That’s just what I needed to hear!

I wish I had a picture of the screen that said “Your weight seems a lot different than last time? Would you like to take a body test?”

Umm, no body test, but you cartoons keep it up and telling me all the things I want to hear. And I better not see an ounce of fat added on to that avatar waist of mine.

Tags: Mii Avatar, motivation to exercise, Wii Fit

Isn’t is always someone else’s fault?

Congressman Eric Massa must have dropped this when he allegedly met up with Rahm Emanuel in the House locker room:

Where to begin? At first he was resigning over health issues, but no, then he was “forced” out by his own party, but wait, there might be that thing where he had a tickle and grope fest with one of his male staffers. OHHHHKAY! Let’s just send for the straight jacket and ship him off for a little rest, shall we?

Poor, sweet Lindsay. She is always in rehab or getting into some kind of freaky trouble.

Incredibly, the nitwits that represent her “best interests” are suing ETRADE over this commercial, in which they purport this to be an unseemly parody of their client:

P.S. Lindsay, you are not Madonna or Cher. Your first name isn’t synonymous with superstar. Who thought when they saw this: GASP! It’s a send up of Lindsay Lohan? How clever! Get some new lawyers and agents, kid.

And because it’s the Lenten season, I thought I would share this deeply personal sacrifice as seen on Failbook, an offshoot of Facebook:

I suppose she thinks the Gospels were like the People Magazine of Galilee or something. Although this gave me a good idea. I am giving up stupid people for Lent.

Have a great weekend, people!

Tags: Eric Massa, ETRADE, Failbook, Lent, Lindsay Lohan

I’m playing with some new widgets today, and I’ve decided to conduct a completely unscientific poll.

Over the weekend when I was hijacked by spring, we flipped on the outdoor speakers. Which are fabulous to sit outside and relax by.

BUT.

We have a rather large music collection on the house. I don’t always like everything in the library, but when played within certain sets of music, I’m totally cool with it.

A certain husband likes to play the whole library on random. So you might hear Eric Clapton, and then Sting, and you are all relaxed. Abruptly, the music switches to a John Denver, Counting Crows, Judy Garland mini-set. Suddenly, I feel like Sybil. Discord reigns supreme, multiple personalities start to come forth! How can I possibly get a mellow groove down????

Are we truly on different planets here?

So readers, how do you like to hear you music played? No pressure here.

Tags: music husbands like, music libraries, music wives like, musical differences

My blog seems to have been hijacked the last few days by a little thing called spring. Actually, its a big huge thing, because living in New England, we are generally still seeing many inches of snow on the ground, and snowbanks in our driveways.

So the gods graced us with a warm, sunny weekend; the outdoors beckoned, my trusty rake stood in for free-weights and a gym workout, and the grill was busted out for some fabulous cheeseburgers.

When the weather cooperates like that, I turn into this:

Normally, I consider myself a very organized and focused person, but something happens when the weather heats up. If I superimposed the Family Circus dotted line over my backyard, it would show something like this:

Go to garage and get garden tools out.
Stroll down to patio and stare at garden tools for awhile.
Enjoy the sun and wonder if George Hamilton sells those tanning reflectors?
Go back to garage for more garden tools.
Back to patio again.
Hmm, might not a season-opening Bloody Mary might be good now?
Yes, let’s go inside and make one.
Back to garage.
Honey, can we set the new fire pit up and have a test fire?
OMG, we need ingredients for s’mores because those would be SOOOOO good heated on the fire pit!

Have I exhausted you yet?

Hopefully that bit of spring fever has worked it’s way out of my system, but I truly doubt it. As I sit here with my laptop, I look out and literally hear the yard calling “Meg, don’t you want to come out and play?”

Oh, yes, I do indeed!

Tags: losing focus on tasks, spring cleanup, spring in New England

Like the March lion, I’m roaring at the news this week:

In the new book No One Would Listen, accountant Harry Markopolos writes how the SEC ignored his repeated requests that Bernie Madoff be investigated. And we all know how that turned out.

I’m sure many parts of the book are compelling, but Harry really goes a little off topic by recounting how he tried to talk his then fiancee, Faith, into breast implants instead of an engagement ring so “that way it’s something we both can enjoy.’’ I think I need to blow the whistle on you Harry. Time out.

Olympic wrap-up.

In one of the strangest recaps to the Olympic games, skier Odd-Bjoern Hjelmeset blamed a bad ski run on watching too much porn. This segues beautifully into the next headline, which regales us with the fact that the supply of 100,000 free condoms distributed to about 7,000 athletes and officials had been dangerously depleted. Luckily, an emergency shipment was speedily dispatched to the Olympic Village. Winter Sports = Amazing Libido?

Lastly, I have this little goodie from You Tube:

I defy you not to buy a bottle of Old Spice Body Wash after seeing this. Buy it for whoever. Because the commercial is THAT good.

Tags: Harry Markopolos, Old Spice Commercial, olympic recap