Elephantastic

I am preparing to leave on what I feel is a well deserved vacation. My sister, two of my best friends in life and I are all going on a one week cruise together. We have been paying for it for a year, so when we step on board it will feel good to know that the trip itself is completely paid for.

I pulled out my luggage to prepare for the tedious job of packing. It's so much fun to pack to go on a ship because most everything you wear is comfortable but there is also a serious fashion show that goes on among the women passengers. It starts for me weeks before we leave. I have to get myself ready, but I am also my sister's "stylist". Before she retired and came to work with me at Lovefifi.com, she wore a dark blue police uniform for a couple of decades. Now that she is free to channel her inner fashionista, she worries constantly about what she is going to wear for everything. It took me years to get her to loosen up and wear color. She has progressed to letting her hair down considerably and even has a bit of a funky streak now and then. I am very proud. The trouble is that she has no faith in her own taste and makes me yay or nay every item she plans to wear on the trip. Our vacation is only a few days away and sister is now in the packing stage. Thank goodness!

I have done so much business traveling that I am a whiz at packing. Packing for cruise is easy because there is no limit to how many suitcases you can take. The only challenge comes with trying to put everything away in a tiny little room, with an even teenier closet. Then you have to multiply that amount by 2 for sister's stuff. Thankfully the suitcases fit under the beds, but space is limited.

I won't lie to you, I am a heavy packer. I bring the absolute most I can and still manage to have places to put it away. I am not one of those people who brings exactly the same number of outfits as there are days with a few additions for night time. I don't know what mood I will be in when I wake up. I need to go to my part of the closet and have choices. I always bring home lots of clothes that I never wore. That's OK with me. I'm happy the whole time knowing I could go with most any fashion whim and change several times a day if I cared to. Unfortunately, my sister has learned this from me and usually we have enough clothes to stay for a month.

So, I don't pack light. Shoot me. I am not changing. I am, however, very smart about luggage. I don't believe that people put any thought into luggage when they buy it. Just look at the carousel at baggage claim the next time you fly. You will see a preponderance of black suitcases going around interspersed with about a dozen Louis Vuitton bags. The rest are often gray, brown or navy with only a handful of distinctive bags that are easy to identify. This is so stupid to me. As prestigious and expensive as the Vuitton bags may be, they still look alike. If you're intent on having a brown suitcase with initials, why not stencil your own damn initials on it? OK, your name is not French and probably won't impress anyone, but you will probably be able to find your luggage without a hitch. They don't check you at the door anymore to see if you have the right bag. What do you think is the most stolen item off of luggage carousels? Louis Vuitton.

It is a mystery to me why people buy black luggage, or even gray or navy. Some of it is very expensive and high end. What is the point in spending a fortune for luxury luggage when you have to hang homemade yarn pom pom from it show that it is yours?

I have been in the lost luggage booth at the airport many times. They always show you pictures of different shaped bags and ask you to point to the one that is most like yours. They ask you the color and if there are any distinguishing features of the luggage to make it easier for them to find it. Knowing full well that what I see at the baggage claim pretty much all looks the same, I set out years ago to make my life as stress free as possible when I travel.

I buy new suitcases every 5 or 6 years. When I shop I always imagine what it will look like going around in circles in the sea of plain dark suitcases. I like to shop online and find the most attractive set I can that will stand out in the crowd. My current set is very handsome, but I don't think there are a lot of people who truly understood it's unique beauty like I did. It's navy blue with a snazzy contrasting trim and it has Indian Elephants printed on every square inch of it. When I wave down a porter to help me with my baggage and he asks how many bags and what my bags look like, all I have to say is that they are 2 and that they are navy blue with elephants. The minute they come out of the shoot, my elephant print bags are rock stars among the rest and I am out of there in a flash. If, heaven forbid, my luggage never comes to the carousel, my time with the lost luggage people is short and sweet. Navy blue elephant print. My cases are never lost for long because they are easy to spot even if they went to Cleveland instead of Chicago.

Now, imagine instead of 250 people on a flight with luggage waiting at baggage claim, you are on a ship with a couple of thousand over-packers at the terminal baggage claim. My luggage is never where it is supposed to be but it never takes long to find it. Those sweet elephants never fail to find me, one way or the other.

So, the next time you are in the market for a set of luggage, consider buying something that stands out. They still sell my set on wayfair.com. It's called Budapest, by American Flyer and I won't mind if you have a set a too. I always get super excited when I pull out the elephant bags and get ready for a trip. My pretty little pachyderms give me style and flair and let me know that we are going on an adventure. And the best part about it all? No yarn pom poms required.

Tipping

Those of you who regularly read my columns know that my brain is very special. The craziest thoughts get stuck in my blonde head and the longer that thought is running around in my brain, the more likely it is to go haywire in a variety of directions before I am done with it. These thoughts eventually turn into words and get sent to you to read over the weekend with morning coffee. This weekend will be no different, my dear readers, because I totally got hung up on practice of tipping and what it all means and how it got started.

Tipping

The practice of tipping the waitstaff in an eating establishment started in England and made its way to Colonial America. The term "tip" is thought to have originally been an acronym meaning "To Insure Promptness". Tipping servers in restaurants has long been customary in the United States, but how much to tip seems to confound some people. I recently went away for a few days with a group of friends. We ate in restaurants at every meal and it was very relaxing and quite fun to spend that time dining together. When the check came, we divided up the total by the number of people at the table. That's the easy part. My friends would never start taking inventory of who ate what because they simply are not like that. They also know that my head would explode. They wouldn't be my fiends if they were worried about who had what. The check was divided by six and that was it. Then came the discussion about the TIP and what the percentage should be, what kind of job the server did, and so on. Do we add on 15%, 20% or more because we were a party of 6? Was the fact that we had to ask for more butter twice a reason to subtract percentage points from what we leave our waiter? I listened carefully to what everyone was saying and kept quiet. I can't expect the rest of the world to embrace my philosophy on tipping in restaurants, so I just join in with what everyone else decides and if I don't think it's enough I add to it when nobody notices or slip extra to my server on the way out. I am a big tipper because I am so damn grateful that I never had to be a waitress and I appreciate what they do. I even tip well when they suck because I figure that they may not have a job for long. It's kind of my own little personal charity.

So, now I was curious about tipping in general. There's been a lot written about it so I looked it up. We tip in the U.S., but there are lots of places in the world where they don't. If you are not a fan of tipping, then a move a move to Austrialia, Croatia or Greece might be an option. They don't expect it in those places. Countries like France and Italy add it to your bill before you get it. There are also countries that find a gratuity to be an insult.

The fact that we tip our waiters and waitresses in America is a necessary custom. Did you know that waitstaff in this country depend heavily on gratuities to survive? The Wall Street Journal reported that 15% of waitstaff in this country live below the poverty level as compared to other hourly workers where only 7% fall into that category. When reading up on this subject I also learned that waitresses who are pretty earn more tips and strangely enough studies show that female servers who wear a barrette or flower in their hair make better tips. I was delighted to learn that a 20% tip is closer to the standard in restaurants these days, so people are paying up to be served. I read that tipping cab drivers 20% is considered the going rate, but here's where I get tough. If they don't willingly handle my luggage, or if they smoke in the car or talk on the cell phone instead of paying attention to the road, their tip dwindles with every infraction. I can deal with a disgruntled cab driver, but the people who handle my food and my dining experience are well taken care of.

Tip of the Iceberg

The words "tip" and "tipping" just wouldn't leave my head. Maybe because they are both pretty cute words. Whatever it is, my brain skipped around and landed on "tip of the iceberg". This refers to a small, noticeable part of a problem, the total size of which is really much greater.

How about tipping your hat? Where did that come from? When men wore hats as part of everyday dress, lifting the brim of the hat from the head for a moment was considered a polite, non-verbal way to show recognition, gratitude, or a simple greeting to another person. How adorable is that? My brain was still going and I thought about something being on the tip of my tongue or how mischievous it felt to be tip-toeing for some reason. Yep, I got hung up on tip/tipping and I dragged you along with me! I know I have to stop this madness, but not just yet. Stick with me through just one more!

Cow Tipping

Is it a real thing or just legend? Before I get off my journey on The Tipping Express, I have to know.

ow tipping is purportedly the activity of sneaking up on an unsuspecting upright sleeping cow and pushing it over for entertainment. I was relieved to find out that it's just an urban legend and does not really exist. Good to know. I like cows.

Well, I'm done for now and my mind is now empty for the time being. Whew! That was exhausting...

Talk to you next week. Love you. Mean it.

Nap Dance

I just returned from the most fabulous road trip vacation. My sister did all the driving and I was the navigator. It was all so perfect, yet I returned home completely exhausted. One of these days I am going to go away and do nothing but relax, contemplate my navel and return home revived and refreshed. I was pretty stymied as to why I was so dog tired when I got home. I honestly did nothing but have a wonderful time. We got up when we wanted and we did our sightseeing at our own pace. No pressure. No place we had to be at a certain time. Our biggest decisions each day were what we felt like eating and what we felt like seeing. Life was aimless and mindless and delicious, yet we came back feeling like our Cousin Clint’s 18-wheeler had run us over. We saw him and his lovely wife, Millie, on our trip and it was the best. Clint is an avid reader of my articles and I am so grateful to him for his love and loyalty. It feels so good to have a fan even if he is a relative. He doesn't have to read this stuff at all and he does!

Anyway, Sister and I returned on a Friday and even though I had fully intended to unpack, do laundry, catch up with the mail and try to explain my absence to my traumatized dogs and give them quality time, I only got the latter accomplished. It was then that I realized why I was so freaking tired. I had gone nearly 2 weeks without a single nap. Yes, I nap. When I got divorced and started my life as a single woman, I discovered the true bliss of napping. On a typical Saturday I would rise early, get my chores and errands done and when I arrived back home in the early afternoon, there were these two furry babies waiting at the back door for me. They had their "where in the hell have you been?" sad faces going on. I learned a long time ago that the best way for me to make it up to them for being gone for 4 hours is to head for the bedroom for cuddling time. I would fall off to sleep and they would guard me and keep the flying monkeys away. It was heaven and when I awoke in the late afternoon, I was a new Fifi. I could hit the ground running and actually have a night life. What a revelation this was. What a life changer! Before this cathartic moment, my last nap was on a mini cot in Mrs. Gordon's kindergarten class. Funny how something that used to seem like punishment when I was 5 is a guilty pleasure as a grown up. I have to thank Twinkie and Beau for showing me the way.

If there was a Pro-napping Movement, I'd be at the front of the parade. This habit has completely changed this girl and made it very clear that I need my naps, even on vacation. We had fun non-stop on our trip, but I didn't get one nap in along the way. I couldn't doze while Sister was driving; that wouldn't be fair and plus... I had a job to do. I was the navigator, the DJ and the one in charge of opening the Cheese Doodles. And if I WERE to fall asleep, my sister would have nudged me and told me that it was OK because she was planning on taking a nap too... without stopping the car. It's kind of our little joke.

The practice of napping isn't just for babies and geezers anymore. Presidents of the United States and captains of industry have long ducked out into private quarters for a mid-day nap; they just fancied it up by calling it a POWER NAP. I must admit that when I plan to stay late at LoveFifi.com, I sometimes sneak off to my private Fifi cave and grab a little power nap. The best part is that I have fantastic support from some of the most important members of my company. See Below.

Falling In Love Again

I am feeling dreamy right now. Come along with me on the ride. You will love where we're going... I promise. I am deliriously happy and exhilarated right now. I am admittedly high. Have I taken some kind of potion or eaten some kind of wacky brownies? No, no, no. It's October! It's officially FALL.

I am mad for this time of year. Everything about it is fantastic. Considering that I live in Southern California where summer and hot weather hang on for as long as they can, snippets of the fall season to come break through the heat to let me know that my favorite time of year is arriving. Although the temperature was in the 80s yesterday, there was a cool breeze wafting through, starting in the late afternoon. By early evening it had cooled down into the 60s. The night was clear and crisp outside when I sat on my patio after dinner with my last cup of tea before bed.

What is it about fall that intoxicates me so? Let me tell you... you know you can't stop me.

It's the crisp air. It's the delicious aromas of logs being burned in fireplaces when you walk the dog. It's the exquisite colors of the leaves turning and so much more. I am not a big fan of football but you don't have to ask me twice to go to a game with a group of friends. Fall is all about football and tailgating and having a great time. I am actually pretty good at feigning excitement at football games. Even though I never know which inning it is, I am usually eating or drinking something and looking happy. I have had my friends fooled for years.

Speaking of eating and drinking, the food of fall is amazing. Traditionally harvest time, the cuisine turns from summer salads to warm foods that are hearty and robust. Soups, stews and freshly baked bread. Love it!

One of my favorite things about this time of the year are the clothes. I have more sweaters than I like to admit and I just took the bins down from the storage shelves and visited with every pullover and cardigan I own. Soon I will get to wear them and I can't wait. My dogs will be able to wear their many sweaters, too, and they can't wait either. There's something about wrapping yourself in a sweater that feels so special. And pulling on a pair of boots only makes it better. You just don't get that feeling when you throw on shorts, a tank top and flip flops. I'm sorry, but you just don't.

With fall comes Halloween and pumpkins and all that. People are decorating the outside of their houses more and more and it makes me smile. I will be in Virginia this Halloween so I will get a big dose of fall on the East Coast of the United States. It doesn't get any better than that. One of my dear friends who lives on a huge farm is having us to dinner followed by a bonfire and after dinner drinks. Dreamy!

I do love Halloween and it will be fun to experience it so far from home. People who know me know that I am a crazy good gramma and are probably wondering how I could possibly leave my grand babies on Halloween. They are 2 1/2 and just-turned-7. I always buy them their costumes so they are all set. I have already earned my stripes in the Trick or Treating department years ago with my girls, so I won't be needed there. When they are out gathering up goodies, I will be sitting on my best friends back porch sipping wine and listening to Mozart. My babies will FaceTime me in their costumes before they go out with their parents. I will get a slew of fabulous photos of my own little Elsa, from Frozen, and Spider-Man and will be able to share these images with all of Virginia. Everybody wins.

I want to warn the über-intellectuals who read my columns that my next fall favorite might not make any sense to either of you. I love the new Fall Television Season! I look forward to finding new shows to watch on the regular networks. You can't watch cable all the time. I need some drama and comedy to intermix with my regular diet of real life crime and house flipping.

At the top of my list of why I love fall is that soon I can come home in the evening and light a fire. There is something about a crackling fire that soothes me and makes me so content. The only thing that could make it better is if I had a fireplace. Just kidding! I have a great one but I made you laugh.

My Darling Readers

Wow, what a week! I have been in Las Vegas for the last 3 days shopping for new merchandise for LoveFifi. It’s been both exciting and exhausting. For those of you who have ever walked the endless aisles of a trade show, you know what I am talking about. Try 3 trade shows in 3 days. I am pooped.

I am on my way back to LA and I am texting this love letter to let you know what’s up. Don’t worry, I am not texting and driving. I completeIy let go of the wheel when I text in the car. Just kidding. I am being driven.

I have a funny article in the works, but I am afraid it will have to wait until next week. I hope your week was as successful and happy as mine. Have a lovely weekend. I plan to spend the entire weekend doing absolutely NOTHING. I can’t wait.

Hugs and kisses.

Wedding Bliss

If you read me every week, you know that I went to Las Vegas last weekend for my niece's wedding. It was the sweetest, most precious day. The whole experience was beyond wonderful.

My niece calls me her fairy godmother. I love that a lot and do everything I can to be magical. The couple paid for the whole wedding and reception themselves, so I did what I could to help out. My sister, my daughter and yours truly hauled make-up, hair rollers and a ton of other beauty items to Vegas and turned ourselves into the Glam Squad.

The morning of the wedding, we all plied ourselves with 20 oz. lattes and whipped the bridal party into gorgeous goddesses. It was the most chaotic scene you can imagine. There wasn’t an inch of mirror space in that hotel room that didn’t have at least two ladies curling, powdering or eye lining. We finished on time without a hiccup. Everyone looked amazingly beautiful. It was time for the bride and her posse to leave for the chapel when all hell broke loose. “OMG!”, my niece yelled out. "I don’t have anything BLUE!” She was panicked. It wasn't like the matrimonial police were going to check her for the traditional something old, something new, etc... but we all know that brides want everything perfect. I quickly got a big hand mirror out and showed her that I had added some tiny pale baby blue Swarovski stones to her floral headpiece just in case. She was relieved and I was triumphant. This was not my first rodeo, folks. And that is why I am her fairy godmother. The “something blue” always gets forgotten. I then started thinking about where the whole tradition started.

It derives from an old English rhyme, “something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, a sixpence in your shoe." Something old represents continuity in your new life, something new offers optimism for the future, something borrowed symbolizes borrowed happiness that you are taking from brides before you who have had happy marriages and something blue stands for purity, love and fidelity. The sixpence in your shoe(we used a quarter from California) is a wish for good fortune and prosperity.

A very sweet tradition, indeed, but this got me thinking. As I was sitting out the chicken dance at the reception, I pulled out my smart phone and looked up wedding traditions around the world. So while I am still in the wedding zone, let me share some very fun “who knew?” tidbits with you.

1. Queen Victoria started the Western world tradition on the white wedding dress trend in 1840. Before that, brides just wore their best dress.

2. Engagement and wedding bands are worn on the 4th finger of the left hand because it was thought that a vein in that finger led directly to the heart.

3. A groom carries the bride across the threshold to bravely protect her from the evil spirits that might be lurking.

4. The tradition of the wedding cake comes from ancient Rome, where revelers broke a loaf of bread over the bride's head to insure fertility.

5. In many cultures around the world, including Celtic, Hindu and Egyptian weddings, the hands of the bride and groom are literally tied together to demonstrate the couple’s commitment to each other, giving us the expression, tying the knot.

6. In Ireland (I love this one), the presence of bells is very important. The ringing of a bell helps to keep the evil spirits at bay. Irish brides often mix tiny bells in their wedding bouquet and a bell is considered a great wedding gift. It is thought that if a couple carries a bell into married life and keeps it in a safe place at home, they can ring it to stop an argument by reminding them of their wedding day and their vows.

7. Greek brides tuck a sugar cube into their glove because it is said to create a sweeter union.

8. Moraccan women take a bath in milk before the ceremony to purify themselves. I wonder if there are cookies that go with that deal?

See what extremes I go to in order to keep you all informed? I didn’t mind sitting out on a bit of the wedding fun to enlighten you. Actually, I already rock at the chicken dance, so I didn’t need the practice.

Ta Ta for now!

Vegas, Baby!

I am excited about this weekend. My favorite niece is getting married to the man of her dreams (and our dreams, too). He is a doll and we are thrilled to be going to watch the magic happen. These two kids fell in love 6 years ago and have been separated by 3000 miles for at least half of that time. They were each married before and their first responsibilities were to their children, so they suffered through a long distance arrangement and saw each other as much as they could. The stars finally aligned in their favor and they now live in the same city. Saturday is the wedding in Las Vegas and it is going to be fabulous.

They decided to have the wedding in Vegas because they wanted everyone to have a ball. They don’t want wedding presents; they just want the people who love them to be there. It’s going to be wonderful to see these two families become one big family. I will see friends and relatives that I haven’t seen in ages. Because it is Las Vegas, the fun and craziness will probably continue around the clock. You either love or hate Vegas. There is really no in between. I love it.

Las Vegas, Nevada is a pretty interesting place. Did you know that there are approximately 15,000 miles of neon tubing that light up the strip and downtown? Yep, and of the 20 largest hotels in the world, 12 are in Las Vegas. The largest hotel in the U. S. is the MGM Grand. It is also the 3rd largest in the world.

There are over 200,000 slot machines in Las Vegas. More than 60% of all gambling revenues come from the slots. I do my part, I can tell you. The largest slot jackpot ever won was at the Excalibur Casino and was just under $40 million dollars. Lovers love Las Vegas and have made it the wedding capital of the United States. The average number of weddings performed per day is around 315. Plenty of fun will be had this weekend. I can’t wait. There is nothing I like better than mayhem and foolishness. I will be a good girl as I am kind of a junior matriarch in this crazy family of mine. Although it is said that “what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas”, it does not apply to my family. Our motto is more like “what happens in Vegas will be posted on Facebook faster than you can say Elvis Impersonator." I will behave myself.

The Suite Life

I don’t know what it is about going away to a nice hotel that still excites me at my age, but it does. I recently went to Las Vegas and stayed at one of their swankiest hotels. I loved every minute of it.

We drove down the long driveway off the Vegas strip to the front of the hotel. As we arrived at the valet, the cutest young man rushed to the car and welcomed me to the “Blah Blah Hotel” like they couldn’t wait for me to get there. Maybe it’s the bellman uniform or the way he swung open my car door like the queen was about to exit, but somehow I immediately got caught up in the moment. I emerged from the vehicle with the grace of a 1940s movie goddess at a premiere. Then came a flurry of activity centered on “Madame’s luggage” (that’s me!). I stood there—rather diva-ish—while the back of the car was unloaded. When I saw my big suitcase come out, I sincerely wished I had made the extra effort of getting the tote bag that matches my luggage off the high shelf of my closet rather than using what was handy. I looked away as my bellman then pulled my grandson’s Spongebob Squarepants duffle out of the trunk.

I proceeded to the main lobby to check in. I wish the world still talked to you like they do at the front desk of nice hotels. They said my name over and over, prefaced by “Miss”, and made it sound nearly like music. I love that. They asked me all sorts of yummy questions about what my needs and choices might be during my stay. This is pretty fantastic stuff in a world where the only time anybody ever inquires as to what I prefer is in regard to what kind of dressing I would like on my salad or whether I would like paper or plastic at the market.

Next came the really thrilling part. My luggage and I were escorted to my room. Then came that moment when the bell guy puts the key in the door and I got to view my new surroundings for the first time. I don’t know what it is, but I always have childish anticipation.

My bellman left and finally I was alone. You’d think I grew up in a cave the way I take in every little feature of my hotel room with such amazement. The bed... how DO they get those sheets so white and wrinkle-less? Do they use a pump on the pillows? My pillows at home never had that much pouf.

Not everything at fancy hotels makes sense, however. The honor bar is completely confounding. Where do all those little teeny tiny bottles of liquor come from? Are they delivered in a little tiny truck, do you think? And who prices this stuff? Obviously, it’s someone who never goes to the grocery store. If I can get a 12 pack of Coke for three bucks, do they really think that I would ever be thirsty enough to pay $5 a can? This is all so curious when you can go into the bathroom and see all the fabulous things that they give you for free. Expensive shampoo and conditioner, body wash that smells like ginger, emery boards, sewing kits, and mouthwash to keep me minty fresh during my stay. Although I didn’t appreciate it at first, I do want to thank the hotel staff for always including a shoe shine cloth. My flip flops have never looked better.

When you stay at upscale hotels enough, you learn to ask for special things. After all, they want you back and they are there to please. I love getting up late and I learned this great trick from my rich girlfriend. She taught me to request an extended check out time for my last morning. I don’t set the alarm and the goal is to wake up when I wake up. I always feel so “VIP” when they grant me a longer time to sleep while the other poor fools are forced to check out at the posted time and stand in line. I just wish my rich friend had also taught me to ask the front desk to notify the maid about my plans to sleep in. I never remember until I am awakened from my beauty sleep by a loud KNOCK followed by someone yelling “HOUSEKEEPING!” only a few feet from my bed.

Staying in luxury hotels and seeing how the other half lives always makes me think of what it would be like to live like this all the time. I think I could get used to daily maid service, round-the-clock food being delivered, sumptuous surroundings, and a staff that treats me like the Queen of Sheba. But then I think... if I did this all the time, it wouldn’t be special anymore and that would be a shame.

Suddenly, I started to feel sorry for rich people. If you are so rich that you can have everything, what on earth can delight you? I doubt if it’s little shampoos or chocolates that are left on the pillow. How sad not to be able to appreciate the little things.

And how do the hotels meet the expectations of these people who have it all? Are their bathtubs filled with French champagne? Do acrobats from the Cirque de Soleil deliver their extra towels? What do they get?

I am glad that I still get excited over silly little things. It makes life so much more fun. If I were rich, I wouldn’t have gotten so excited over finding a $10 bill in my jeans when I was doing laundry the other day. OK, I suppose if I were rich, I wouldn’t be doing my own laundry.

I heard that Madonna (or some lady celebrity) requires someone to go ahead of her and drop rose petals before she enters a room. That’s very dramatic, but I wouldn’t trade it for the supermarket flowers (with the price sticker still on) that I sometimes get from people I love on the spur of the moment.

See what I am saying? You lose a lot when you have too much. Being jaded can’t be good. I think it is better to still love the little things in life. They thrill you each time they happen. These events never have to be topped or get bigger. It’s always good.

So write me and tell me about the small things that happen in your lives that give you joy over and over again. And, if you are crazy rich, tell me what the biggest and best thing that happened to you recently. Or if you prefer, instead of emailing me, you can hire a skywriter to fly over my office and let me know. Your choice, darling.