Sunday, October 31, 2010

Shaken not stirred

Everyone knows that when you are on a quest for improved health and, more specifically weight loss, you must reduce or totally eliminate empty calories.  Alcohol is a ginormous cavern of pointless consumption in regards to fueling the body.  On a side note, if you have not given up the booze, even a couple drinks a week, that could be stunting your endeavors to see smaller numbers on the scale and waist band size.

With all of that being said, I bought a candy apple red martini shaker last year when Target had their holiday merchandise marked down to nearly nothing.  I couldn't resist it.  Like a beacon it beckoned to me.  Impulse buying at its finest and the justification that it cost as little as a 2-litre bottle of Diet Coke.  Since that purchase it has resided in a cupboard.  That is until recently.  After a super intense workout like Turbo Fire, it's necessary for me to refuel and hydrate.  Beachbody offers a great product called P90X Results and Recovery Formula.  It isn't just for users of P90X, of course.  It tastes like an orange cream-cicle I enjoyed as a little kid. Yum! The only problem is that I end up with chunks or a collection of the powder at the bottom of my glass. That is not so yum. Putting it in the blender seems like more toil than it is worth. I'd have to wash the blender vessel for the second time of the day -- I use that to make my Shakeology meal replacement.

Enter my shiny, red martini shaker.  Water, ice and 2 scoops of Results and Recovery Formula and shake, shake, shake! Voila! Delicious and totally free of lumps. Smooth sipping. From now on I'll be using it when making my Shakeology on the go! It will raise an eyebrow or two, for sure.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Something is awry

For no apparent reason my mid back aches, snakes up to my head and ears; turns south and makes my belly ache just ever so slightly. I'm not getting sick. However, I am tense for reasons unbeknownst to me and I can't help but feel something is amiss.

It's going to be one of those days. You know what I'm talking about. Unless you're one of those people who claims they never ever feel like crap or just get the sensation that it's going to be a struggle.  Yeah, yeah. You can save the mind over matter speech.  Today, I am not buying it.  My Rissy senses are tingling and it's not due residual feelings brought on by seeing the UPS guy bending over yesterday. That's a welcome biochemical/physiological woooo dawgy! mind and body experience.  No, this is something all together different.  Today is a day of Murphy's Law.

It's going to be rough out there, kids.  I will tread lightly.  It is truly a shame I do not possess Harry Potter's invisibility cloak.  At work on this day it would be nice to simply be unseen.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

As Suspected

It is the subject of a lot of yapping on Facebook: Glee's version of the Rocky Horror Picture Show.  If you read my post yesterday (of course you did), you're aware that I was disappointed in the casting of the show within the show. I'd given the writers a break by assuming it could have been due to a sub-plot story about censorship or decency.  If you watched the program then you know imposing a safety net on my judgment was correct.  There is no denying that letting a diva-esque girl fill the platforms of Tim Curry as Dr. Frank-N-Furter was a stretch.  My son, who has never seen the original, enjoyed the vocals.  He said he could have done without the ensemble of the patent leather bustier and knee high boots.  I'm still peeved that Magenta's solo in "The Time Warp" went to Quinn (Dianna Agron) rather than the more salacious Santana (Naya Rivera). Hands down she could have given the tune the deviant edge it requires.  Milquetoast has no place in Rocky Horror.  Even Emma Pillsbury's version of "Touch-a, Touch-a Touch Me" had more raciness and fire -- she's as Wonder Bread as you can get. That is until Quinn sang.  Was I the only one wishing Puck was in the episode? I know Mark Salling is pursuing a solo career, but cripes! The show's delinquent could have ruled the stage on this installment of America's favorite show about dorks and song birds.  Another thing, were you hoping Meatloaf would have filled his old role as Eddie? Maybe it was just me.

OK, kiddies. I need to go work out before heading out for a long day of work. 

Keep it groovy!!

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

That's a crock!

It's my day off and I have intentions of doing very little beyond my daily work out and viewing movies on Netflix.  Dinner is being made via the Crock Pot.  Man, what a lovely invention. Thank you Rival company!! Set on low is a pork loin with red potatoes and carrots.  With a little help from low-sodium/low-fat mushroom soup and a sprinkling of various seasoning, I hope for a nutritious and delightful meal by the time GLEE comes on tonight.  It's the Halloween episode where they reinvent "Rocky Horror Picture Show."  I'm a tad hesitant due to the previews that have circulated the Internet.  Quinn as Magenta bothers me.  Her rendition of "Time Warp" is so white bread that it is oozing Hellman's Mayonnaise.  Apparently, the sultry Santana also plays Magenta. They should have left that song up to her.

I know! You're gasping that I've criticized my not-so-guilty pleasure show.  My favorite program in the last decade is under fire of my own critique!! "No Marissa! Say it isn't so!"
Damn it, Janet! They've toyed with something classic. Here's the real shocker.  Mercedes is Dr. Frank-N-Furter.  This is the roll played by Tim curry. In drag.  HELLO!!!!! What the hell!? Sure, the girl can sing, but I'm not fond of taking an iconic, cult movie and turning in to something safe. Maybe the plot line of this episode explains why they've deterred from the original so drastically.  Perhaps there is some censorship sub-plot.  This won't detract me from loving the show. Nope. This isn't a jump the shark moment.  Fonzie hasn't strapped on the skis just yet.

Fo' realz, yo!

The stories you see late at night while your hand infiltrates the confines of the Cheetos bag are true.  The results are genuine.  They come from hard work and dedication.  The subjects in the success stories are accessible. The trainers are available for real time chats.  BEACHBODY is the real deal, y'all.  How do I know? I'm one of those success stories (in the making). The people you see on the dvds are my social network friends.  The coaches who support members of Team Beachbody are also my support squadron.

What can I do to help you become the next Beachbody success story?

Beachbody Fitness sampler video

Friday, October 22, 2010

Watch it!

Once again it's all about me. Here's the link for the video down yonder just in case the embed doesn't work. Sorry if it feels like you're on a bumpy road while viewing this vlog entry.  Still without a tripod, I just extend my arm out and shoot.  Hey, at least I'm not making the infamous "duck face" then entire time.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Reality bites

I have been working too much.  That fact became glaringly obvious yesterday evening.  It's ridiculous that my son has suffered the consequences of the shortcomings of my work place and I have to fix it. 

Tuesday brought me a day off. Finally.  I'd worked 8 days straight with the majority of those days keeping me away from home due to working until closing (9 PM). Mancub and I haven't spent much quantity or quality time together.  He sees that I am stressing.  He's not a selfish boy. He's compassionate and due to that, he has spared me any additional stress. Or so he thinks that is what he's doing.  But last night all that he's bottled up came to a head and he let out how much he hates his school and the kids that inhabit it.  He's a big kid, but a gentle giant. He's easily upset by rude remarks.  They know it and pick at him.  His efforts to ignore it are often futile.  The beasts know if they keep at him he will eventually display how much they are bothering him. Then, the desired result comes to fruition. 

We'd gone out to practice driving. His driver's education teacher told him he needed practice turning his signal on and braking.  He was hesitant to go out driving, but made the decision that practice was required.  At one point he failed to look to his right at a yield sign.  I had and no cars were coming.  When I pointed out that he hadn't been observant and the consequences of not paying attention -- we would have been struck by a vehicle where my side would have been impacted, his eyes welled up with tears.  Shortly after that we returned home and he sunk into the couch.  His body language was that of defeat and sorrow.  As he removed his shoes, I apologized for being harsh.  He removed his glasses and wipes his face.  It was then that I asked if my absence the past couple of weeks bothered him.  At that point my otherwise stoic child began to cry. I reached out my arms and he stood to hug me... breaking down on my shoulder.  He now towers over me when we embrace, but for that moment in time he was my wee little boy again.  We sat on the couch where he collapsed in my embrace and just sobbed.  That's when he confided that school was horrible and he's near a breaking point.  He's endured harassment for years, but we manage to find resolution through diligently following through with administration.  The fact that it is necessary makes me furious and nauseous.  To consider what my son faces day in and day out enrages me to a point where I want to march in and lay into every single kid and adult he encounters. 

Once he regained composure, it was my turn to offer some comfort beyond holding him.  That is when I found myself giving him the "it will get better" talk.  I shared with him the recent news about kids his age ending their lives because it was the only way they saw freedom from being bullied and terrorized. It was emphasized how vital it is for  him to talk to me no matter how tired or stressed I may seem about work. He always says things are OK.  Now I'm aware that I need to be specific when I ask how his day was rather than being generic with a blanket question.  My job will not take precedence over his sense of emotional security. 

It sickens me that he's enduring such crap.  Here is this amazing boy who tries to see the best in everyone. Teachers adore him and he is penalized with spitefulness from other students. As I said, he is compassionate and generous.  He works hard for his excellent grades. That is all he wants to do, but even that seems to bring him grief from his peers.  He's tried to sympathize that many of those kids come from shit homes all the while recognizing that he doesn't have an active father in his life.  He has me. We don't have a lot, but we don't behave like we're owed something from the world because of it.  He doesn't act entitled of empathy because his father isn't around. Society doesn't shun him because he's a product of divorce.  I don't know what kind of lives the cruel kids live in, but I'm tired of my child being subjected to their way of life.

He's going to address his principal and counselor about the things he's been keeping to himself.  I will follow up via email and parent/teacher conferences.  They may not be aware of what is happening.  I'll give them the benefit of that doubt. It all needs to be documented, though.  Everyone will understand, once again, that NO ONE messes with Mancub and doesn't suffer the wrath of Mama Lion.  No one.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Shake, Shake, Shake Señora

Back in June 2010 you witnessed me blubbering over my weight loss success due to P90, Turbo Jam and Shakeology.  I'm back on track and it feels good.  What's better about it is that others are inspired by me.  Take a deep breath and swallow hard -- ME? An inspiration? A motivator? How freakin' awesome is that, huh?  And those comments fuel me to work hard to reach my goal of another 60 pounds off my body. Other than being a parent to a truly amazing child, helping others reach their goals is my passion! You won't hear me say this often, but get passionate with me!! bwahahahaha *snort*

Seriously, now is a perfect time for anyone who has wanted to try Shakeology or P90x, Insanity or Turbo Fire and a variety of other dynamic and effective Beachbody products, but considered the price too steep. As a coach you get a phenomenal 25% discount.  Hit me up at Team Beachbody Coach MissRiss or just email me directly at! It gets even groovier.  Beachbody has made it even easier in these economically strained times. The start up cost is waived until the end of the year. Watch this video and get in touch with me.  You, your family and friends can get a jumpstart on a healthier lifestyle. Let's start 2011 in better shape both physically and financially. 

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Steam heat

Rather than being that little steam engine who chug-a-chug-a choo choos its way up the mountain and glides down when it reaches the other side, I blast full steam ahead into a new project.  What happens when you blow your wad of excitement and energy at the beginning of the race? You haven't anything left to finish it. 

In school I was always great at sprints and hurdles in physical education.  It's surprising that ability never encouraged me to try out for the track team.  Long distance running was not my forte.  My life, in general, embraces a similar facet of junior high school P.E.  I get really passionate and excited about an endeavor only to not give a rat's ass about it just as I start to turn a corner.  There are literally three books and two audio books that were tapped into months ago and I've yet to finish them.  Short term goals and I get along famously.

Another tid-bit about Miss Riss that I recognize is this: If progress isn't apparent regularly, I peter out.  If results aren't immediate, I throw in the towel.  My recent weight loss is the first thing I can measure that I didn't give up on because the desired results weren't achieved in a relatively minimal amount of time.  All attempts to do so in the past were laughable and futile.  With that being said, as a 45 year old woman that isn't saying much. Yet, it's saying a lot with the past considered. I have a secret to tell about this though. I haven't managed to drop any more weight since I hit 40 pounds. FML. It's my own fault.

What is additionally abundantly clear about moi, is it's hard for me to focus on too many major projects simultaneously.  My job as a single parent cannot be compromised.  Asking me to choose between my child and .... well, anything, will get you punched in the face.  Mancub is 16 now, but he's still in need of his mother.  I was his age when I suddenly found myself motherless.  However, my family was enormous.  Mancub doesn't have siblings or a participating father to turn to. Anyway, he's non-negotiable. (Adult men can be whiny pansies when they realize they'll always take the backseat to my child. Suck it up, past and future boyfriends.)  He doesn't need a man in my life to be his father. I'm woman enough to fill both roles. I'm just sayin'.

OK, I was a bit sidetracked on my "I am Marissa hear me roar" soapbox.

With my recent promotion I've let everything else of interest, other than my son, be side stepped. Though, I do have to admit Mancub has given me a smackerel flack for working so many nights rather than being home to eat dinner with him and then take him out to practice driving.  Admittedly, he is justified.  Food on the table and heat in the house and all that be damned, I'm all he has for stability.  Working out, eating right, doing my part to fight worldwide obesity as a Team Beachbody Coach has suffered greatly. 

Instead of just whining about it I am going to be diligent and proactive with my projects.  I've worked way too many hours for my regular job.  My health is not worth risking because of my inability or reluctance to request help.  Too often my demented and sad ego gets in the way of me sharing the burden.  In my case, the reward for being a martyr is flubber belly and thighs; reduced recuperative sleep; and most importantly, lack of quality time spent with Mancub. 

FYI: Long term changes do not happen overnight. I said I'd be diligent. I didn't say a magic genie popped from a magic lamp and granted me three wishes.  Forced changes do not bode well with my tender psyche.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Speaking words of wisdom

When I find myself in times of trouble Mother Mary comes to me. Speaking words of wisdom, let it be. And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be. Let it be, let it be. Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

My mother's name was Mary. Whenever I heard this song as a kid I presumed everybody knew my mom was a great listener and giver of advice. As I grew up I realized that Paul was singing about a more widely known woman named Mary.

The mother I spawned from passed away in June of 1981. Just when I was in dire need of matronly advice, she was gone due to the ravages of cancer. I was a confused teen on the cusp of finally being permitted to date. Sixteen was the age at which girls in our family were allowed to have a boyfriend. All I'd had were crazy crushes that were never realized due to the restrictions placed upon me. Still, having my mother tell me how to handle myself or get over the painful heartache of nonreciprocating crushes would have been fantastic.

Because mom had always shared her tales of paranormal belief, I lived in fear of such unearthly visits from loved ones. The idea of being face to filmy face with someone did not appeal to me. So, I remember telling my mom during one of our rare conversations during her illness that I'd prefer she not haunt me -- lovingly or not. Once she passed away I regretted making that declaration.

After years of living in denial that mom was indeed gone forever, it became abundantly clear that I was a 20-something in dire need of her mother. As calendar pages flew by and became a decade, I truly wanted my mother's guidance. My sisters, father and step-mom tried to fill Mary Caroline's shoes. However, at no fault of their own, their attempts fell just short.

Call it what you want, my subconscious longing or paranormal visitations, she came to me in a dream. For the first time a dozen years, my mother sat on the bed I shared with my then husband and she told me as her hand brushed the hair from my face, "You can go now." This time was unlike any other as any such visions always took place in the past or at the home where I grew up. At that moment I awoke disappointed that the vision of her was gone. But suddenly the inner turmoil I had been feeling about my marriage was gone. Mancub's father and I had talked for years about leaving Kankakee and starting new in another state. It would test the resolve of our marriage and his theory that we were strained because of the involvement of my family. That was 1997. We moved to Georgia and divorced in 1999. Looking back, I believe my mother's message about 'going' really meant that I could leave my marriage and find happiness on my own with Mancub.

My nocturnal pow-wows with mom have been few and far between since that night in 1997. My visions, for lack of a better term, have been merely seeing her in passing. No comforting talks on my bedside occurred. From time to time I'll dream about a moment in my childhood that involved Mom, but no heart to hearts take place.

That is until recently. I haven't talked a lot about my personal life much lately on this blog. I've touched on it, but nothing in depth. My career is not up for grabs as blog folly. Such shenanigans can lead to job loss. Interpersonal relationships have proven to be perfect blog fodder when the object of my affections doesn't read the posts or happens to be such a flippin' dirt bag that he's no longer welcome. At which point I don't care. I always change names to protect the stupid.

With all of that being said, I've bottled up a lot. My role at work has changed so I am not at liberty to just spout off. There's a path that must be followed in order to bring resolution. And my personal life is so complicated that you'd think I was a pathological liar or testing out a theme for a romantic comedy screen play or cheesy Lifetime movie.

Because I have so much pent up, it was clear the other night that I desperately needed comfort that only a mother can give her child. In the room where I currently sleep, Mama Mary sat at my bedside and calmed me.  No longer was I tossing and turning and frantically out of control. Still sleeping, she sat next to me and sang while she brushed my hair from my face.  I tried to speak, but words didn't come.  She quieted my nerves and calmed my soul.  I felt myself awakening and I fought it. More time with my mom was needed but early morning broke and I was back in my bed alone with nothing but darkness surrounding me. My eyes scanned the room in search of a spark of light or a twinkle. Anything to indicate it wasn't just a dream.

What I know from this is that in my times of trouble my mother Mary comes to me ...

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Coinky-dink but still true... ish

General horrorscopes, in my opinion, are just lucky guesses or means to have something hopeful to hang on to for a 24 hour period.  Once in a blue moon the readers of the stars and planets get it right-ish. The Twittascopes from yesterday and today are in the ballpark of where my head (and heart) is residing:

Yesterday - October 13: Even if you're certain about what you want, it's not easy to determine the most reliable way to get it. Your thoughts may become stuck on sweet pleasures that are hard to come by at this time. You might think that everything will ultimately be okay, but you're still challenged by your own insecurities and doubts about how to proceed in your pursuit of happiness. Don't be distracted by external circumstances now; seek joy from within instead.

Today - October 14: The Sun's quintile with potent Pluto reminds you that nearly anything is possible with good planning and smart execution. Unfortunately, you can still run into problems today because of the inherent instability in your relationships. Instead of claiming that you can accept the outcome whatever it may be, give yourself permission to state what you want, so at least you know that you tried.

and because I loved to swallow the proverbial pill that is considered difficult, I'll throw in tomorrow's news, too ...
It's your chance to step beyond your old limits today which means it may be easier for you to entertain a relationship with less of a commitment because you are feeling more emotionally secure. Exploring your passions could lead you in an unexpected direction if you have the courage to remain open to change. Communication is a key to the locked door to love, but you'll have to let go of what you once thought was true.

Monday, October 11, 2010

Monday's Melody

You must know me, I'm one of your secrets
you must know me, I'm one of your secrets
I belong to you. I belong to you. and you belong to me.

You must know me, I'm one of your secrets.
from what I see, you're trying to hard to keep it.
well I belong to you.I belong to you. I belong to you. and you belong to me.

Look at me, I'm your hearts keeper.
meant for me 3:21AM, she will be here. oh yes she will
and I belong to you. yes, I belong to you. I belong to you. and you belong to me.

Look at me, I'm one of your secrets.
from what I see, you're trying hard to keep it.
but I belong to you. I belong to you. I belong to you.
and you belong to me. you belong to me. you belong to me.

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Movin' on up

A little over a week ago I received a phone call at work.  The voice on the other end offered me a promotion.  Out of left field and in a flash I became a manager.  It's pretty stinking cool because in the past there were some hoops to jump through in order to obtain a higher position. However, the powers that be can and will change the rules when necessary.  And this time I benefited from such a decision. 

What's really surprising to me is how quickly my mind and focus shifted from "time to make the donuts" mentality to "what am I going to do today that will strengthen our team?"  What's even better is my overall sense of purpose.  Finally, it feels like I can make a difference.

With more energy being exerted on my career, I am actually able to focus better on the home front and declutter my life both physically and spiritually.  Now more than ever there's an empowerment toward being a living, breathing Wonder Woman.

I truly feel it was no accident that after I told myself on a trip to Wal-mart that I wouldn't bother looking at the clearance aisles.  I said, "Just buy what we need. NO PERUSING!!" Of course, I didn't listen to my thrifty inner voice.  I strolled up and down the rows looking for nothing specific.  Then, these little gems cried out to me from the bottom shelf.  These were exactly what my new mind set required.

Friday, October 1, 2010

Boobie-Thon 2010 aka Boobies a-go-go

I donated generously.  Now it is your turn, kids.  Don't just go to and gawk.  Ante up the dough for the delectable tidbits you gaze upon.  There's a story behind every underwire. October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Every single person has been affected by cancer in some way. According to the American Cancer Society, about 1.3 million women will be diagnosed with breast cancer annually worldwide about 465,000 will die from the disease. .

Now, skedaddle and look at the contributions. Please, if you figure out which set of bazongas are mine, don't tell. If you're unsure you can email me at and I might give you a clue if you're clueless.