The Real Deal

Sigh. Leave it to the guest bloggers to tell a skewed story. You knew I would tell you the real deal about the Femme Fantastik in LA. First of all, I am most certainly not going to rehash the limosine story. All I have to say about that is that they should have known things would be a little "special" if they traveled with me. Hell, I was one the one who floated down the road in Houston and ate dinner while a woman shook her parts over me in Atlanta. Obviously they didn't read my blog.
Anyway, for those of you who asked, yes, I did wear Coach shoes, clogs actually. They were VINTAGE (fashion code for about two years old). They are my comfy travel shoes and quite good looking. I am an equal opportunity shoeshionista.
The real fun began after the no-neck-turning limo man left us at our hotel.
Of course we were hungry. No one really gets food on airplanes anymore and I refuse to eat another SouthWest peanut, so we headed to one of our hotel's restaurants. The plan was we were going to eat, catch up and have a little Femme Meeting about what we planned to do next year. The girls made fun of me and my luggage and shoes, of course, and that kind of sidetracked us a bit, but if your friends don't make fun of your impeccable taste and obvious style, then who will? (Can anyone say "Don't hate"!) You know they ran right out to the luggage outlet and tried to be just as stylish. Here's a note, ladies, either you have it, or you don't. Nothing but love, nothing but love. ;-)
Okay, the meeting was going just fine until Lori ran into a small problem. We got to the part about how much things would cost and Lori started scratching like a crack addict. UGLY! Her eyes got puffy and her lips swelled up like the puffer fish driver instructor on Sponge Bob. At first I thought she was uncomfortable talking about the cash, but then she spoke up.
"I think I am having an allergic reaction to something."
(No? Really?) "You aren't going to cardiac arrest or anything are you?" I asked.
She assured me she wasn't, so Carmen and I then laughed appropriately.
Meeting adjourned. We spirited Miss Thing to the room. All the way there she was walking and trying to rub her thighs together so they could scratch each other with minimal effort. Clothes flew all aover the room as she stripped naked. I was blind for two days.
Nurse Carmen took over then. If I am going to be sick, I want to be sick around her. She is the most nurturing person I know that I am not related too. That woman is a walking over-the-counter medicine cabinet. She dug in her magic bag (not designer, but perfectly useful) and came up with the appropriate remedies for what ailed Lori. She even put old compresses on her legs and arms to help quell the itching. I would have never thought of that, opting instead to tell her to rub, instead of scratch.
Lori laid up on the bed and soaked up the attention. I was itching too and my eyes were red, but I didn't feel the need to be the center of attention. I wanted Lori to enjoy the limelight while she could. Besides, I didn't want to alarm her. I wasn't swelling, and hoped I wasn't going to. She was one strange site. All I could think of was that we were going to have to go up on stage the next night and speak in front of 200+ peoeple. I hoped for Lori's sake that Carmen really could cure her problem. She was starting to not look like herself.
Well, sure enough, the danger passed and we could all breathe easy. But then we found we had another problem.
Our room was haunted by a jackhammer from building past.
No, seriously.
There was some loud noise that sounded like a jackhammer that went on all through the night. And the longest train whistle in history.
About three AM I screamed out, "Does no one else hear that?"
Of course Lori didn't. She was drugged up.
Carmen on the other hand is somewhat akin to the Princess (you know, the one of Princess and the Pea fame) as am I, so we had late night/early morning discussions about the benefits of Pilates.
The racket never did subside, so in the morning, we ran screaming from our rooms and demanded a quieter spot to lay our heads. I almost lost it when the man at the desk laughed when I tried to tell him the benefits of beauty sleep before a speaking engagement. He obviously didn't undertsand the perils. I know I look like Oprah without her makeup if I don't get my quality sleep.
Okay, that is it. Mine is true, just ignore the other two. Oh, and of course, pics are on the Femme Blog and my website, www.ninafoxx.com.