Chocolate Made Me Do It

Halloween has come and gone but the remnants of too many “fun size” chocolate bars made me do something on the spur of the moment yesterday. I got up all my courage and went to check out one of those co-ed mega-gyms. It is time to do something about your weight when you take off your jeans and there is a perfect impression of the waistband, the zipper placket and the pockets on your abdomen.

I was nervous about walking in, but I must have been the most beautiful girl in the place, because 3 really cute buff guys fought to have me sit down with them and chat. Hey, ladies, in case you think that there is nothing better than being “carded” for liquor when you are over 45, I can tell you that there is. To walk into a gym and have a guy who looks like Fabio ask you why you are there is pure bliss. I should have said, “because my ass is as big as Texas and if I don’t lose some weight the only thing I will have to wear is my car cover”, but I demurely answered that I was looking to get into better shape to have more energy. It sounded so convincing that I almost added something about an interest in marathon running for good measure, but I was afraid I still smelled like chocolate and he would know I was a fake.

So I signed on the dotted line and went to put on my “workout clothes”. I wasn’t playing. I decided that if I was going to do this, I was going to start today. I then met back with my muscle man for a tour and orientation. He was really nice, but men usually are after you give them a big check.

Tell me this, what is up with everyone else? No one is friendly in those places! There is an aloof attitude that I just can’t explain. I don’t know if it’s the sweat or too much Lycra constricting their brains, but I can tell you that no one was very cordial.

After my fitness god left to pursue another chubby prospect, I decided to try to program one of the machines and get going. The problem is, I wear glasses, but foolishly left them in my locker thinking I probably wouldn’t be doing any embroidery or beadwork while I was there. I couldn’t figure out the digital commands on my machine, so I asked the fellow next to me. You would have thought I asked him to sacrifice 50 –yard line seats at the Super Bowl to help me for 2 minutes. He grunted and groaned and basically set my treadmill at cheetah level when I am clearly just a notch over turtle speed. Well, I DID finally see one of those workout freaks laugh. He was quite amused.

I was actually pretty lost as to what to do, so I just copied others and pretended that I knew what I was doing. Working out is not intuitive to me. I was never into sports except for ice skating when I was young and I was drawn to that sport because the outfits were the cutest. Luckily, one of the trainers took pity on me and showed me around the machines. After an hour, I felt pretty accomplished. I came, I sweated, I conquered! I felt proud.

Well, I survived my workout, showered in some sort of tiled phone booth, put my “civilian” clothes on and headed towards the front door.

Just as I was about to leave, Mr. “Fabio” gave me a wave and said, “See you next time”.

Next time? You mean you have to do this more than once?

This will never catch on...

You Can't Scare Me

October 31st is almost here. I have already done my part and paid $14 for a pumpkin that I will never eat and will pitch in the trash when it starts to decompose and stink. I am officially in the Trick-or-Treat mode.

We are crazy busy here at LoveFifi.com getting your corsets, push-up bras, padded panties, and fishnet hosiery out to you to wear under your costumes (by the way, thank you for your orders…kiss, kiss!). In fact, we are SO busy, that even Miss Fifi is working in the warehouse getting your packages ready to ship. Don’t faint, but I am really not bad at picking, packing, and shipping. I am much better at being queen, but that will have to wait until next week when all the hoop-di-doo is over. As I pack each order (lovingly, I might add), I think about the person who will be wearing the corsets and stockings and all the fun stuff from us that is going into creating their costumes. It's fun to fantasize and try to guess what their costume might look like. I do the same thing at the market when I look at what the folks ahead of me in line are buying and imagine what kind of people they are and what their lives are like. Old ladies who buy 30 cans of cat food, chocolate chip cookies, and the National Enquirer are easy to figure out. You can tell the single guys and health nuts easily, as well. I remember once there was a guy in front of me whose purchases were a bottle of Collins Mix, two limes, and a large container of Draino. I couldn't figure out what on earth was going on at his house. Thank goodness I wasn't alone on this one. When the cashier checked him through and told him the total, he also commented and chuckled that the guy must be mixing up one "hell of a cocktail". It's always good to know that I am not the only one with a sick brain.

I am truly enjoying my adventure in our shipping department and have learned two important things along the way. Number 1: our warehouse supervisor, Christine, is worship-able. The way she runs the place and handles the customers is awesome. She came to us from one of the fanciest department stores in the world, so she knows how to treat people. With her around, you can be sure your order will arrive at your door on time. Thank you, Chris!

And what was the second thing I learned?

Our United Parcel Service man is gorgeous! What a cutie! I loved watching him put all our packages in the truck. Warehouse work has many rewards.

Customer Service just told me a man called this morning and ordered our Belly Dancing outfit over the phone. He spent 10 minutes explaining that it was for his girlfriend. The more he explained, the more we knew for sure WHO would be wearing this outfit. Please, my darlings, you don’t have to explain anything to anyone at LoveFifi. We care only that your purchase will bring you joy. Period.

When my partners and I started this business, we did it with our eyes and arms wide open to our customers. Let’s get this straight once and for all. We don’t care if you are a guy ordering a corset for yourself. We only care that we help you find your size and that you are thrilled when your order arrives. Save your stories, honey. Though amusing, Fifi has been around the block a few times and I know that you didn’t lose a bet with your bowling buddies and have to dress as a woman for a week. The pink bra and panties are for you. So what?

A few weeks ago, a customer wrote to me about the size 2X Maid’s Costume she purchased. She thanked us profusely and then went on to tell us that she has enjoyed watching her husband do housework in it. I had to admire her. She fulfilled not only her fantasy, but mine. A husband that does housework, how divine is that?

Dressing up is good for the soul. Actors know how liberating it is to be someone else, Halloween allows us to live in a fantasy world for just a little while. So let’s do it!

I have to get back to packing now, so I will close for this week. I am ready with my tape and pink tissue and will wrap your purchase personally and blow a kiss to each package as it leaves the building. I know they don't do that at Victoria's Secret, but that's how we roll at Lovefifi.com.

Wishing you all a happy and safe Halloween. Before I go, I am sending you a link to one of my favorite pieces of television. Jimmy Kimmel had parents tell their kids that they ate all of their Trick-or-Treat candy. It's hilarious!

Soul Mates

My sister and I just returned from the 2013 Soul Train Cruise. We are still so electrified by the whole experience; I can’t wait to tell you all about it, as promised. You may recall that last week you got no article, just a lame letter from me explaining that I was so busy packing my dancing shoes that I had NO time to write a real article. Actually, that was not the complete truth. I was just so busy getting prepared at work to be gone for a week and trying to get myself ready, I actually didn’t have much to write about. You should be grateful I didn’t yammer on about what I was doing. It’s not that writing descriptions for the new holiday items and analyzing sales is not fascinating to tell you about or that the tale of my trip to the vet to get my dog her meds for the dog sitter is not interesting, it’s just that I love my readers too much to bore the snot out of you. But I was going on the SOUL TRAIN cruise and nothing I could write about the week before was worth typing.

I don’t think I have had this much fun ever before. I am older now and don’t remember everything I have done, but from what I can recall, this cruise was clearly the most fun you can have with your clothes on. It was a chartered event on the Holland America line and the entire week was all about the music I love most in the world, R&B/ Soul/Funk. Just in case you are curious, my next favorite music is classical, gospel, anything by Edith Piaf, Willie Nelson, or Elvis. OK, I’m weird... but I like to think of myself as eclectic.

“ We always bring 3X the amount of clothing that we would need if we were going on the QE2 for a month.”

Going on a cruise is pure heaven for me. I can be easily contacted in an emergency, but once on the water, there is no phone or computer at my fingertips to distract me. I have to completely concentrate on the tasks at hand: resting, sunning, being pampered at the spa, overeating, sleeping as long as I want, gambling, shopping in port, and being entertained. My cabin guy cleans up after me, brings me fresh towels, and leaves chocolate on my pillow at night. I can see why celebrities become brats when life is like this every day. I think you appreciate it more when it’s only for a week.

I watched Soul Train and American Bandstand faithfully for all the years that they were on. I wanted to go on this cruise because the line-up was so amazing and because losing both Dick Clark and Don Cornelius in the same year was really hard on this old girl. I have fond memories of blasting Soul Train on the TV every Saturday while I did my housework as a young bride. I had to turn it up so I could hear it over the Hoover as I pushed the it down the hallway dancing all the way, the star of my own Soul Train dance line. I would always rest when the groups came on and then go back to “getting down” with the dancers while I cleaned and dusted. You would be amazed how much work I could accomplish in that hour. I was always alone during that time, so the “dance like no one is watching” rule was always in effect when Soul Train was on.

The talent on board the ship was “old school” Soul and Funk. Every night after dinner there would be an amazing concert. Jeffrey Osborne... Earth, Wind, and Fire... Gladys Knight, just to name a few. The music was non-stop and fabulous. I did have a cathartic moment during the concerts, however. The music was intoxicating and it was hard to sit. I jumped up with the rest of the audience and danced my butt off as I have always done. I am a dancing fool. This time it was different. Getting older has given me a funky knee and a troublesome rotator cuff. It turns out that shaking my “groove thing” was painful, at times, but I didn’t let it spoil my fun. Thank goodness I still had enough mobility in my shoulder to motion to the cocktail waiter to order drinks. Ordinarily, I really don’t drink very much, but it is easy on a cruise ship. You don’t have to drive home!

I don’t know if I could ever go on a regular cruise again. Oh sure, there is entertainment, but it’s just not as exciting as having musical legends entertain you. On a regular cruise, the shows are mini-extravaganzas and the talent tries hard to deliver a first class show. The difference is that your waiter at lunch could very well be dancer #7 in the ship's production of "A Chorus Line" after dinner.

On the Soul Train Cruise, the entertainers gave small group private lessons on things that were also their passions. Sister and I attended cooking class with Gladys Knight and a drum seminar with Jeffrey Osborne (he started out as a drummer). Very fun! Gladys was charming and adorable and cooked up a yummy, healthy pudding that she makes for her grandbabies and I am certain that my drum playing has improved considerably since last week. Thank you, Jeffrey!

The best part of the cruise, by far, was the people we met. Sister and I met fabulous folks from all over the world. Our tablemates at dinner will most certainly be our friends for life. Every moment we spent with them was filled with laughter and joy. They are from Trinidad and, the last time I checked, that’s pretty far from California. I have no doubt that our paths will cross again, because we will all work on making it happen. You know what it’s like when you meet people and it feels like you have known them your whole life? That’s how it felt with Gillian and Junior. Love at first site is not just for romance. Hugs to both of you.

Sister and I have been on at least a half a dozen one-week cruises and we haven’t gotten much better at either packing a sensible amount of clothing or finding our way around the ships. We always bring three times the amount of clothing that we would need if we were going on the QE2 for a month. I doubt that I will ever break that habit because I need the flexibility of having my wardrobe choices match my moods. If the day ever comes that I need a walker or a wheel chair on my cruises, I can probably whittle down my clothing to those zip up house dresses and one pair of sneakers with Velcro closures. If that time ever comes, I will probably have cut my long blonde hair short and let it go gray. I have to stop this talk... it’s not making me happy. Until then I am ready for anything from scuba diving to a masquerade ball and the world and the cruise lines will have to deal with me and my luggage.

Finding our way around the ships is still baffling to both Sis and I. I tend to follow her because she is Marco Polo and Christopher Columbus on dry land. On a ship, her sense of directions blows wind, but she still has the courage of her convictions, so I follow. It usually takes us until the last day to get our bearings, but then it doesn’t matter. Even though we study the ship's maps by the elevators and pay attention to the “you are here” arrows, we never seem to wind up at our destination on the first try. It’s probably better that we are lost most of the time. We end up walking off at least some of the calories from the 15 desserts we wolfed down the day before.

So there you have it. We had an absolutely wonderful time. I truly wish all of you were there. Why don’t we all go together on the next one in 2014? Think about it and let me know. For now I will close and wish all of you the same thing it says on the T-shirt I bought. It’s the same thing that Don Cornelius said every week at the end of the show:

Wishing you all...

Fair Game

My adorable grandson turned 6 last week. This is a pretty big birthday for a kid. He is still a little boy, but not for long. He hasn’t lost his front teeth yet, so he still has that baby boy innocence. I know it is only a short time before he shoots up like a weed and is all BOY. Before I can adjust to the rough and tumble years to come, I need to make sure we celebrate the end of his sweet-little-boy period that I have grown to love.

I decided that it would be a great idea to make an especially big deal of his birthday this year. You see, I now have a 16-month-old granddaughter, who at times takes the spotlight away from her cousin. I adore them both and I really felt that commemorating being 6 was the thing to do. Although I am really good at planning parties and creating events to remember, I was running on empty when it came to thinking up something fabulous for my little guy’s birthday. I raised a gaggle of girls and am an official “girlie girl” myself, so even though I have made great strides in grandmothering a boy, I didn’t have the foggiest notion what to do for his birthday. With girls, it’s so easy. You get them a poofy pink dress and a plastic tiara, buy them dolls, stuffed animals and candy and they are in birthday heaven. Boys are way harder to figure out and it doesn’t get any clearer when they grow up, I would like to add.

I have a wonderful relationship with my grandson and I love to have him on weekends, just me and him. It didn’t take me long to realize that little boys are just big boys that are not ripe yet. When my grandson was about 2 ½ and could talk, I learned real fast that what little men like is good home cooking, having the latest toys to play with and watching TV on the couch until they fall asleep on my lap as I stroke their hair.

Somebody was watching over me and I got a random email from one of my credit card companies that told of an upcoming event at our county fair. The MONSTER TRUCK Spectacular was happening on the same weekend as my grandson’s 6th birthday. He loves trucks! When I take him to buy a toy, it’s always some kind of truck. He never seemed to be interested in anything but “twucks”. Damn, I hated it when he learned to pronounce his R’s a few months ago. Childhood is so fleeting...

Not only could I take him to the fair for the first time, but we would top off the day in our grandstand seats seeing life-sized trucks with gigantic tires flip, fly, and do wheelies in dirt. I got so excited and bought tickets for the family. I couldn’t wait to take him on the carnival rides and buy him cotton candy, but not in that order. MONSTER TRUCKS... this was a brilliant stroke of luck. What fun!

So we "kidnapped" him from school early last Friday and headed for the county fair. It was the last weekend of the fair and it was jam-packed with families and daters and a whole lot of idiots. I held his little hand for dear life and my sister was my back up as we made our way through the crowds. His excitement when we finally reached the FUN ZONE turned quickly to horror: there was nothing that wasn’t death defying. What happened to the circus train ride and the cute little caterpillar roller coaster for kids and the boats that went around in a circular pool of water with a bell kids could ring? When I was a child, I used to do all the kiddie rides and then get all my courage up to finally go on the Tilt-a-Whirl with my dad. I was game to go on anything that my grandson wanted to try but at that moment he was trying not to cry. Rides with calibrated neon lights flashing had names like Cliff Hanger, Dive Bomber, Turbo Drop and the Screaming Swing loomed all around us. Since my name is not Fifi Knieval, I found the FUN ZONE to be not even slightly fun. I told my little man that he wasn’t quite tall enough for the rides this year and suggested we move on to the carnival games. We spent a lot of money trying to win stupid stuffed toys that nobody really wanted but isn’t that part of the fun of the fair?

Finally it was time for the show. He still had no idea what was going on. The look on his face when the monster trucks roared onto the field was worth everything. He could not believe what he was watching! These crazy trucks screeched around the track and sped over ramps so they could fly through the air. One guy even drives backwards ONLY. Although I have never been to an event like this and would probably not admit to it ever, I liked it way better than I thought I would. Watching those giant trucks with wheels the size of the moon careen around corners and take flight off of piles of rubbish was really exciting. The crowd was into it big time. The hooting and hollering at all the antics on the track was worth the price of admission. At the very end of the show, one of the trucks went off the ramp and did a complete 360 flip, landed and bounced 10 feet up. If I didn’t know better, I would think my sister was giving these drivers driving lessons. Ha Ha! She will read this and roll her eyes, but if working at LoveFifi doesn’t work out for her, she could have a brilliant future in the monster truck business. She already knows the basics.

My grandson had the very best time, but he is only 6 and it was late. He was tired. As we headed out towards the exit, he wanted something to eat. I tried to entice him into the deep fried watermelon on a stick or a bacon wrapped dill pickle, but he just wanted a cup of gelato.

We were almost out when he spotted a blow up airplane on a stick and a light up plastic saber that glowed in the dark. He looked up at me with those puppy dog eyes and asked if he could choose one. I told him “NO” and then smiled and told him he must get both. It’s his birthday! That’s what grandmothers do. Deal with it. I didn’t even wince when I handed over $20 dollars for 2 toys with a life expectancy of 24 hours. All I could do was be grateful to be alive and know that this child loves me almost as much as I love him.

Happy Birthday, Xavier.