The Members Lounge

Take a Number…

meg — Wed, 17 Mar 2010 14:09:18 +0000

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.

The Start of A New Mii

meg — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 14:06:44 +0000

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.

I Can’t Help Myself Friday. The Blame Game Edition.

meg — Fri, 12 Mar 2010 15:41:54 +0000

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?

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart

Mon – Thurs 11p / 10c

Sour Gropes

www.thedailyshow.com

Daily Show
Full Episodes

Political Humor

Health Care Reform

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!

The Mars and Venus of Music

meg — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 20:10:52 +0000

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.

Hijacked by Spring

meg — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 14:02:46 +0000

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!

I Can’t Help Myself Friday. March Kickoff!

meg — Fri, 05 Mar 2010 13:23:16 +0000

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.  
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You Are So Fired!
meg — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 15:59:36 +0000
Meg decided last year she could not longer stand her dentist, as this dentist copped an attitude with her when she had to reschedule a cleaning twice in a month.  
Meg gave the office plenty of notice, and things happened, like the nice people at Lowe’s wanted to deliver a new washer that day. Which completely took precedence over a cleaning, as laundry had not been done in 9 days. 
Miss Dentist was all like, WELL, didn’t you reschedule this once already? And Meg thinks, why are YOU answering the phone, has yet another receptionist left your employ, Dr. Murphy Brown?  
Time was of the essence so Meg kept her rescheduled cleaning appointment, whereupon the dentist told her that sensitive tooth thing was all in her head, and then kept repeating, there nothing wrong with that tooth! It’s healthy tissue! OK, then it’s healthy, throbbing sensitive tissue then, b**ch. 
The other day Meg forgot the dentist nicely scheduled a 6 month cleaning. Meg left a message saying simply, “I won’t be making that appointment.” 
The next morning, the office called Meg’s house, but didn’t leave a message, Instead, they slammed their phone down in an apparent fit of dental hygiene rage. It made Meg incredibly happy that she was there to hear that wayward phone hangup, and she’s now seeking a new person to torture her. 

Meg has also decided to fire her eye doctor, who’s name is IMTOOCHEAPTOHIREARECEPTIONIST. In this case, Dr. Cheap decided it was more important to answer a phone call from UPS, and left Meg with screwed up bi-focal vision that she absolutely could not see with. In a scientific experiment, Meg opened a box of her more powerful right lenses, and placed one in her left eye. Guess what?  Meg now has perfectly clear and balanced vision!  She isn’t wearing reading glasses anymore, because she can freaking see again! 
Today’s blog was brought to you by Twisted Susan. Thanks for letting me channel you, Susan. I feel much better. 
Stay tuned to see who Meg will fire next week. 
                              ©2010 The Members Lounge. All Rights Reserved..


Dining with Teenagers
meg — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 18:29:13 +0000
Last week, some folks were in town visiting, and wanted to have dinner. A flurry of phone calls ensued; dinner was set, and reservations were secured.
Several hours before the dinner, a nephew was tracked down by the visiting party and asked to join us. Which meant we were squarely in charge of rearranging the event, as well as being responsible for the nephew, a generally sweet but absent minded individual. Shall we proceed with our story?

Since arranging this whole thing was like being on a game show, I decided we’ll play CONCENTRATION, because that’s a show about MATCHING AND PUZZLES, and most reminiscent of the evening.

Having trouble with this? Let me explain. You see, it took approximately 8 phone calls to coordinate the dinner. The land line next to the cell phone represents US, in that our nephew couldn’t remember our phone number, so he had to call his aunt, who had to call us, so she could relay our address (which he had forgotten) so he could plug that information into his GPS, and God help me, make it to the house.  The 9th call represents the newly arranged dinner reservation.
Still with me?

So the dear nephew arrives, but he doesn’t have a coat, because hey, it’s ONLY FEBRUARY IN BOSTON! And he’ll be fine. In the meantime, he remembered his Justin Timberlake pork pie hat, because he thought that would provide the most needed warmth and protection. The boat shoes are what he almost left the house without, until I reminded him they would help out across snow covered cobblestone streets. 
Lastly, we have a successful conclusion of dinner, and a half hour wait for pastry in the arctic wind. 
And a delightful evening was had, even if I don’t understand teenagers and how they actually survive. What would they do without texting, cellphones, and GPS? Could they read a map or a road sign?  And what is it with the coat thing and not wearing them? 
To cap the evening off, he thanked us and told us he would say hi to Mama Bear and Papa Bear. I DID figure out he meant his parents. But does anyone else but me think we need some Rosetta Stone software, the teen speak language edition?  
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I Can’t Help Myself Friday. The Pouty Edition.
meg — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 12:50:25 +0000
Well, I never, said Scarlett O’Hara:









Yesterday’s Health Care Summit.



The only time you might want three jacks is when you are playing cards. Yesterday brought the JACKS together in a friendly bi-partisan setup discussion of the health care bill. See them stamp their feet! Feel their false outrage!  Look at the giant health care bill perched precariously in front of Eric Cantor!  Would you like to engage in meaningful dialogue on this subject, or shall I just bring you a stunt periscope to peer over your carefully stacked bill?
Crap. The agony of defeat.

Dear Julia,
You see, Lindsay Vonn didn’t really want to crash and break her finger, inadvertently stopping your ski run. Sadly, I think the officials bungled that, but you Twittered and Facebooked about it in the most unbecoming way, blaming your teammate.  Not exactly a show of Olympic spirit, Julia. I’m going to have to ask you to turn that tiara in for good.

Kirstie’s getting her freak on again during her appearance on Oprah.


Actually, this picture makes a factual case that women over 50 should not get hair extensions halfway down their backs. Because you are GOING to pout if they look as bad as these do.
Enough with you pouty people! Like February, I’m leaving you in the dust. Or a snowbank. 
Because we need to smile going into the weekend, I leave you with my favorite funnyman, who never fails to bring a laugh: 



The Daily Show With Jon Stewart
Mon – Thurs 11p / 10c


Summit’s Eve


www.thedailyshow.com








Daily Show
 Full Episodes
Political Humor
Vancouverage 2010






                              ©2010 The Members Lounge. All Rights Reserved..


Music for Insomniacs
meg — Wed, 24 Feb 2010 16:08:04 +0000
Have you ever played Insomnia Jeopardy? Check out my handy chart, which may be similar to your sleep chart, with minor category substitutions.
Lately, I can’t complain on sleep front. The Olympics have apparently brought fresh air and exercise into my living room, which translates into me thinking I am participating in Nordic events, thus sending me off to a peaceful night of sleep. And yes, I think we all think we can do those tricks with a little practice. The athletic dream never dies, does it?
Speaking of dreams, I read this article in the science section of the Boston Globe, in which a neuroscience professor at Brown claims he’s found a sound that can put you to sleep. REALLY? Sign me up!
Seth Horowitz has teamed with a composer to market various sounds to cure an array of things, including insomnia. I’m not sure if the guy is onto something, but he wrote a piece called Vertigo, in which audience members toppled over, and another threw up. I think that performance must be been a mixed bag of success and audience participation gone awry.

So I went to the website, but alas, there is no sample download of the sleep music, which, I kind of think for $20 bucks they might want to put a sample music track out there as an incentive to spend and buy the CD.
Marketing Tip to Ivy League Neuroscientist’s: Take a page from Amazon, and put some some 30 second clips up on your site instead of sounds that make me want to throw up!
There are a few testaments on the site that the CD works like a charm for babies and small children, so that $20 bucks might be worth it for some harried, sleepless, parents.  And, its possible that a guy who wrote a grant proposal titled “Bats with Frickin Laser Beams on Their Heads”  might be a secret genius for curing insomnia after all.
Sweet dreams people, however you get it done!
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