TheFFword.com

The Little Girl That Could

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Sat, 13 Apr 2013 12:47:13 PDT

There are many kinds of strength. Brawn. Endurance. Mastery over emotion. Resistance of a perfectly good piece of Chocolate offered to you for free by sweet ladies dressed in black and white aprons just for being in their store. Personally, I am missing that muscle.

There is another kind of strength; one that requires the compilation of backbone, estrogen and guts. That is the Feminine. Soft and vulnerable on the outside, samurai steel on the inside. Most of the time.

Being a woman is hard. It borders on masochism just by under wires and non-lycra jeans alone.

As a young girl I discovered that I had an unlikely, feminine strength that grew beyond my own understanding. On 40 Days to Flight -- A new adventure from crawling to flying -- Piloting a plane loaded with precious cargo into the stratosphere of worth, joy and kick-ass courage -- I have shared the story I have never told. In the attempts to break through the bonds of the past and celebrate the gifts that came I would love to share it with you Lovelies that read The FF Word.

I would be honored by your presence in the sharing of the tough stuff. Click here to read about the moment that permanently broke my heart.

The incredible passengers on this flight have shared their own bios in bite sized portions, for it only touches upon the incredible stories that lie behind the women (and a few brave and beautiful men). You may read their bios here.

I look forward to seeing you between the lines.

Please click here to read The Little Girl That Could.

On a Wing and a Prayer,

Your Captain, FeFe xx

.....

Lovelies Like a Giveaway: What Love Looks Like Edition!

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Sun, 24 Feb 2013 09:02:49 PST

It is that time of year when everything begins to crack open under the first sign of a hovering sun; the sliver of hope between a long winter's pass and the promise of impending spring. It is the space where love is born. Love for your man. Love for your woman. Love for humanity. Self-love. Spiritual love. Love of nature. Love of Chocolate (helllo!).....It is endless.

Fearlessly Female is once again consumed with spreading love all over the page but this time it's all about "What Love Looks Like" to You. And to celebrate your own idea of love I've got sweet-ass goods to giveaway! - It's just how we roll.

How to participate in this lovey-dovey day:

Way to Love #1 - Comments

Leave a comment below any Fearlessly Female Facebook status/photo/video posted today by me, FeFe, entitled "What Love Looks Like". You may comment as many times as you like but only one comment per post counts as an entry. Please keep comments relevant to the post you are commenting on.

The Prize? Cheeky Chocolates and Miss Christine's Fearless Fortunes!

If you've been perusing Fearlessly Female for the past few months you know that the Lovely Miss Christine makes these beautiful paper fortunes out of quotes, quips, lyrics and words found on the FF page as well as in Christine's own inspirational arsenal. This prize contains approximately 50 fortunes lovingly made by Miss Christine just for you!

And because poignant words of wisdom pair so beautifully with the Mighty Chocolate I have included 6 cheeky flavors for the rebel in you - Chili...Potato Chips...Grapefruit...Raspberry...Sea Salt Caramel...Bacon. Oh yes! And I'm not going to tell you that one of those boxes above is empty of it's contents because, ummm, it isn't. Right. In care of those who may have allergies, there are no nuts in any of these Chocolates.

A sample of Miss Christine's Fearless Fortunes. Yours are wrapped in Valentine's inspired papers.

Way to Love #2 - Personal Posts

Post your own words, photos, videos, or artwork that defines "What Love Looks Like" to you. Please post it to the Fearlessly Female page on Facebook or on your own Facebook page with Fearlessly Female highlighted/tagged in the title so that it appears on the FF page. You must have "What Love Looks Like" in the title of your post to be entered in the contest. You may post up to (3) times but only (1) entry will be counted for this prize of the giveaway. Feel free to share a story that is personal in nature or one making it's way around the world. Be creative!

The Prize? Fearless Footwear Designed by FeFe!

Custom designed Converse Chuck Taylor All Star Canvas Hi-Tops in Fearlessly Female's signature colors. The coolest part? "FEARLESSLY"softly stitched along the base. Instructions on how to live? Me thinks so!

This shoe will be ordered in the winner's size of choice and will be delivered in approximately 6 weeks. If you are a man or you hate pink we will work together on another color and lining to your liking.

Way to Love #3 - Most Moving

From the comments and posts entered for "What Love Looks Like" on February 24, I will be choosing one winner from all the entries that ~~makes me cry like a baby~~ simply moves me the most. Lovelies, show your support for those stories, videos and pictures that pull at your heart strings by clicking "Like" on your favorites.

The Prize? What Love Really Looks Like!

FF's very first T-shirt recognizing that you are indeed What Love Looks Like! Fearlessly Female's signature colors in high quality cotton and printing. Ordered in the winner's desired size. Will ship in approximately 2 weeks.

And for the men in orange-red love. Ordered to preferred size. No printing on back. Will ship in approximately 2 weeks.

The Rules

You must be a fan of Fearlessly Female on Facebook by clicking "Like".
Prizes cannot be exchanged or returned for credit or cash.
Winners will be chosen by a random drawing for prizes #1 and #2. Winner for prize #3 will be of my chosing for most moving.
Winners must provide a physical mailing address to receive their prize.
If you wish to participate in the event but do not want to be entered into the giveaway please write "no entry" at the bottom of you post.
I will announce the winners Sunday evening on the FF page. Please contact me by private message if you have won.
This Lovelies Like a Giveaway is open to everyone!

I have one last bit of personal excitement.

For some months now I have been working on a project that has demanded every ounce of my past and present life -- The terrors, the hardships, the triumphs and the miracles. A month ago I announced that I would be tending to a soul garden, if you will. Gardening with chainsaw in hand and a pile of shit to shovel the bloom has finally risen up from the fertile ground and into the light of truth. This afternoon I will present the first glimpse of this passionate purpose with a call to action. I do hope you will do me the great honor of being my guest on this brand new journey. Stay tuned to the FF Facebook page as I reveal the details of a better life ahead for all of us. It is truly a labor of love.

...

One Billion Rising: My most personal story

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Thu, 14 Feb 2013 12:58:52 PST

In honor of One Billion Rising on V-Day and the revolution against violence and sexual assault toward women, I rise...

I rise because at the age of 17 I was raped on a cold concrete slab in the dark of night.

I rise because I was asked for my first kiss the same night I was robbed of my virginity.

I rise because his prelude before the rape -- "I can never love you" -- has haunted me ever since.

I rise because the shining future of a self-confident girl was ripped to shreds in the matter of minutes.

I rise because I was taught what sex was supposed to feel like by a criminal.

I rise because the selfish, violent act of one man sent me on a very long path of self-inflicted destruction.

I rise because it took me 19 years to return back into my body after leaving it at the scene of the crime.

I rise because my rapist left me with a health condition that remains, only to remind me of my past and test my future relationships.

I rise because sexual assault lasts but a moment yet has a story that never ends.

I rise because he taught me to hate myself and no matter how many times I was loved, the self-hate always won.

I rise because it took another act of violence 19 years later to heal me.

I rise because women are absolutely allowed to be sexy, sexual beings without be violated or possessed because of it.

I rise because being violated sent me to the gutter to crawl until God gave me wings to fly.

I rise because my mom was also a victim of assault as a young woman which led to a devastating outcome.

I rise because I don't want my two young, beautiful nieces to follow in our footsteps of knowing this kind of pain.

I rise because "I was raped" should not be the typical coming of age story for one in three women.

I rise for the women who can't.

I rise because I finally can.

One in three women on the planet will be raped or beaten in her lifetime. One billion women violated is an atrocity. One billion women dancing is a Revolution. I am but One girl -- Yet I am all women.

February 14th. Valentines and victories. Vessels and vacancies. Validations against violence. This is a day to love and cherish those close to us with remembrances of all that is romantic and sweet. This is also a day to recognize the most important love affair you will ever have in your life - You with yourself. Many women have suffered the loss of self-love because they were taught by a stranger, a family member, or a date that they were not worthy through a violent act against them. Innocent women. Young girls. Mothers, daughters, sisters and friends. This is the day we lift them up in celebration. This is the day we dance wildly and free in the revelation that women are not for sale, to be taken against their will or to live in fear of simply being female. This is the day to rise as One Billion in One Voice and One Dance for One Purpose - Freedom from violence. And so it begins...

Will you rise?

.....

Oh 2012, you scrappy jokester. I love you. Now goodbye.

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Tue, 01 Jan 2013 23:22:56 PST

Every year has it's ups and downs. 2012 was especially topsy-turvy and I, a card carrying V.I.P. FastPass member, was getting ushered to the front of the line whether I liked it or not. Because of this roller coaster style Sturm und Drang, rarely knowing whether to laugh or cry, I had little time to write life down as it was happening. The FF Word has been quite lonesome because of it so without further adieu:

A funny thing happened on the way to gut wrenching happiness...

I had a nervous breakdown.

Trust me. I needed to dissolve.  The way I was living really wasn't my cup of tea.

Actually, I'm not a big tea drinker. More of an 'Iced Grande Soy Latte from a drive-thru sucked down with a bright green straw' kinda girl. And tequila. So as an aspiring authenticator I should begin this piece with more...reality:

My god damned pathetic life wasn't my roll in the hay. Oh yeah, that's better.

I hear people don't have nervous break downs anymore. In my youth, as the enthralled child of a ~~professional therapist~~ brazen hairdresser, I was surrounded by desperate housewives circa 1979 disguised as svelte career girls with blonde bouffants and tan Cadillacs who found comfort at the salon in the whispered gossip of "her nervous breakdown."

"Did you hear about so-and-so.....her husband left.....he must be having an affair.....my realtor said they're losing their house.....poor thing, she had a nervous breakdown.....is this dryer hot enough?"

Side note: If you google 'Nervous Breakdown', Wikipedia will redirect you to 'Mental Breakdown': "Nervous breakdown" redirects here. For other uses, see Nervous breakdown (disambiguation)."

Disambiguation?! That just sounds batshit crazy.

"Hello, Mr. Bossman? I'm sorry I won't be coming in to work today. I've got Disambiguation. Yes. Dis-am-big-uation. I've been Disambiguated. I don't know, life pissed me off and I caught this crap. I don't know when I'll be in. Dude, my Ambiguation has been Dissed, get off my case!"

It was the month of May and just another ordinary morning of strapping hot rollers in my Clairoled hair while guzzling down cold caffeine in lieu of real nutrition.  Yes, just another rushed attempt at not being late for work as if timeliness was not just a pipe dream of mine. During this habitually boring morning, in between Q-tips and squeezing my ass into Spanx, I received news that I was caught in "a lie". Accusingly so with the intent to tear down my character.

You know that point when you have been running a million miles an hour, barely catching your breath from the day before, hanging on to the end of your rope -- that teeny, tiny last little frayed inch -- knowing that one fell swoop, one unexpected blow could send you spinning out of control like a wild banshee on fire? That was me and my head was in flames. One minute I was pushing up my bra with toothbrush securely shoved in mouth -- the next I was on the floor melting away like the Wicked Witch in a rainstorm.

I have lied many times in my life. Many, many times. As a child I felt I had to. As a teen I wanted to. As a young woman I was so good at it that it just came naturally. In my 40's, I learned how to stop. It was difficult and scary to be exposed in the world, naked with truth. But I did it. Lying was a type of addiction for me. Mostly to please others and hide my feelings.  Many times to diminish my poor choices and bad behavior. I eventually took the blame for my faults and paid for them dearly. Full price. So at the age of 44, making great strides in honesty, I didn't take too kindly to receiving blame for something I had worked so hard to overcome.

I freaked out. I punched an empty flat screen TV box down the hallway until my knuckles were bruised. I scraped the shag carpet leaving a permanent scar on my elbow. I pounded the floor of the bathroom until I began to bleed. Sounds came out of me that are nonhuman. I dissolved into the linoleum less of a woman...and late for work. (Pipe dream, told ya.)

Miss Atomic Bomb - 1950's.
I wonder if I looked this pretty while I was blowing up? Let's just say I did. I had freshly curled hair.

After 20 minutes of cradling and rocking myself back and forth into something that resembled my sanity I got up and started all over again. Unfortunately (or fortunately), I have a health condition that is directly affected by emotional stress. I have been told for years to keep the stress levels down to a manageable level. I laugh here because it's virtually impossible. I do try. But alas, life -- It is a cruel lover. My disease kicked into gear within the hour and I could no longer walk in a straight line with my legs collapsing beneath me. I began having seizure like reactions as my entire body tensed up like a wooden plank, raising up and down out of bed. My nerves were on the loose and ruling every inch of me. I knew at this point that I better remove myself from the front burner and try to emotionally take it down a notch. I spent the rest of the day in bed, liquefied -- so full of sorrow. I couldn't believe that I was still allowing outside opinion to create in me unrelenting pain. I knew the claim wasn't true. I had not lied or misled anyone. I wanted so badly for that to be enough for me.

That day, during my Disambiguation, I broke through an impassioned tectonic plate of steel that had been weighing me down for years. That day, rendering my body unusable and putty-like, my mind made up with itself that I would never again become victim to someone who does not know me, whether they are in my inner circle or as distant as a stranger could possibly be. All that I had worked so hard to overcome over the years; all that I was building in my daily life of a new career and long-held mission of fearlessness could not stop me from feeling completely frail and insignificant. I was targeted. And then it hit me, that word - I was targeted. For years I was invisible, both my choice and otherwise. You can't hit an invisible target. Had I really developed into a whole woman, a powerful woman that someone would want to take down? My nervous breakdown became an enigmatic breakthrough.

After a few days I pulled myself together and accepted my lessons: I knew who I was. I had to be OK with the fact I may be the only one who knows. I couldn't make anyone look into my heart. If I defend myself it appears that I am guilty. Pick and choose the most suitable people to surround myself with. Listen to my body as it warns me against serious harm. My own growth, no matter how slow or faulty or tedious, is worth every bit of blame if it checks my intentions and leaves me better than how I arrived. If I am targeted then I have something worthy of tearing down.

I can't say that I will never try to pulverize an appliance box with my bare hands again but I do know this: The next time I am targeted by weakness disguised as cruelty I will not crumble. Instead, I will stand tall -- smile -- and realize that I must be doing something right to deserve such a dishonorable attack. And then I will gently say, "I'm going to pray for you", because people who are hunting down rising girls really hate that. And then after turning it over to God I will walk away with a covertly positioned double-fingered fuck you applied with feverish finger pumping, squinty eyes and a lower lip bite because that's what makes me feel better. Better the 'secret double-fingered fuck you pump' than my ever-loving sanity. My worth is no longer up for grabs.

I said fuck.

You're welcome.

...............................................................

So much has come to fruition this year and I have spent hours upon hour rejoicing, especially in my car with the tunes pumping and the sun meeting me through the glass. 2012 was a crash course of sorts for letting go of the very last bits and pieces of a Pretty/Ugly past. That piece of pottery has been pasted together so many times but never stopped from crumbling. Like a trail of bread crumbs back to the past, I would find shards of clay that looked like the girl I used to be in the unlikeliest of places. 2012 buried them. I long to share my world with you through the stories that have created it. 2013 has sat on my shoulder with it's feathers unfurled singing a very sweet song that always ends in yes. 2013. Let's fly!

Silence the Critic

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Thu, 18 Oct 2012 07:32:39 PDT

"It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat."

Theodore Roosevelt

"Citizenship in a Republic,"
Speech at the Sorbonne, Paris, April 23, 1910

Joan of Arc - Battle of 'Orleans 1428 (Courtesy of www.rapturewatch.net)

There is no shame in loss, failure or defeat. Dishonor does not exist in innocence, imperfection, or taking a great fall. Silence the critic. Especially when it's you.

...

Daring Greatly

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Mon, 15 Oct 2012 09:00:35 PDT

"Maybe stories are just data with a soul." ~ Brene' Brown

Truth or Dare? When you hear those three words taunting you at a bachelorette party on meth does one choice make you cringe and the other make you want to rip off your britches and somersault through a KFC drive-through? "Original Recipe please."

Last week on Fearlessly Female's Facebook Page, my Lovelies, you mastered both - You dared to tell the truth; hotly and fueled by high octane bravery. Dare I say I have my suspicions that even some of you were britch-less while truth telling. You brazen love banshee, you!

Last week we were scientists in the lab of What Love Looks Like. I lit the Bunsen burner and you tested your courage. It was hot, sweaty and emotionally explosive. But like any experiment there is a cause and there is an effect. I did it 'cause I believe that a voice truthfully shared is a tool for healing. The effect was more amazing than I could possibly have imagined.

(To read firsthand the power of trusting strangers coming together in an act of vulnerability click over to our Facebook page and scroll down to the dates of 10-11-12 & 10-12-12, following The Hot Truth events of those days.)

What did you feel when it was over - when your guts spilled rambunctiously onto the world's page?

Did panic begin to take hold and scream, "Retreat! Retreat!"?

Did you have an emotional hangover the following morning complete with physical exhaustion, wobbly thoughts and a desperate need for a Chocolate IV drip at your bedside? (Or was that just me?)

Did you leave those two days feeling heard, clearly seen, connected, a little less fearful and a lot more loved? I do hope so.

As Brene' Brown, Ph.D, social researcher, nationally renowned speaker and best selling author on the topic of vulnerability would say, "Get messy.....lean into the pain.....that's where the power is."

A few weeks ago I downloaded Dr. Brown's new book Daring Greatly and to my absolutely delight, she was speaking my language. With just a few chapters in, Daring Greatly sparked the idea to open up the social media space as a safe place to be raw, peeled open and simmered over a love fire. My Lovelies, you showed up in gorgeous force and proved that being transparent, if even for a day, will summon the strength of others to jump into the soup and share in the whole-hearted flavor.

We've only just begun for there is a feast to be prepared, my Lovelies. Time to call upon one of the Master Chef's for a recipe to dare with:

(If you are reading this post in your email subscription please click over to the blog to watch the video.)

She said it all, didn't she? Exquisitely.

On 10-11-12, you had the courage to be imperfect. You connected with yourself and each other with your entire heart, broken bits and all. That wasn't just a representation of living out loud. That truth fest didn't just reveal how the domino effect of sharing oneself encourages another to safely fall. Those two days blazed the trail of boldly sharing The Hot Truth, no matter the consequence, in this fearful, modern world. THAT is rare.

So allow me to pose the question to you that Dr. Brown asks - What is vulnerability? What makes you feel vulnerable?

...

Next to come on theFFword.com is a love letter of sorts to those who paved the way of a shared, loving experience for little ol' FeFe and made it ok for myself to also stand truthfully exposed before you without my soul-cellulite scaring you silent. Stay tuned....

...

Welcome to Awectober with FeFe!

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Thu, 11 Oct 2012 08:51:06 PDT

Oh yes. YES! You are here! Holy crap, thank you. Let us happy dance down an office hallway and break Chocolate together.

If you have never visited this place before then welcome to TheFFword.com, otherwise known as Fearlessly Female's blog of irreverent Godly reverence, tales of masochism, Sexpot Sundaes, cursing without using the F word, The Uglies, Babes Without Bankroll, worshipping at the alter of the Almighty Chocolate, crotch holes, how writers with A.D.D. write (in Peanut M&M intervals), the art of stalking, SHOES, building a wickedly beautiful life, surviving breath-taking trauma, kicking fear in the gonads and how to be a lady. Among other non-consensual acts.

If you know this blog like the back of your hand and are sick and tired of re-reading the same crap every week waiting for The Uglies to hurry up and get uglier then by God, bless your face. You have returned. I love you.

In FeFe land, 2012 has been the long Code Blue with Awectober rescuing it's ass with the defibrillator....CLEAR! Life caught up, clubbed me over the head with a big stick named 'Purpose, Dammit', pulled me out the cave by my thinning hair and left me for vulture scrap meat. Run for your life girl, run! I ran, my Lovelies. I ran straight here. It is my honor and deep pleasure to share with you the big story of a little life.

And while you're here, I'd love for you to stay. Forever. Or at least until someone turns out the lights and forces us out. There is a box on the upper right corner of this page to subscribe for blog updates and an email alert when TheFFword.com has cookies in the oven. Get it while it's hot!

Speaking of cookies...on with it.

Why you're here today:

Lovelies Like a Giveaway. Hell yes, they do. So do I. Last year we had a blast giving away magic shoes, Chocolate, music and the big mama money. With ~~wild abandon~~ careful consideration I have once again decided to offer up the one gift that fits all sizes and goes with everything - Cold Hard Cash. FeFe's Cookie Jar, to be exact.

FeFe's make-shift-law-office-kitchen-raid Cookie Jar.

Ooo, are there cookies included?

Hell no, I'm eating those. There is no telling what FeFe will actually provide as the receptacle of your Lovelies Like a Giveaway cash but I can tell you, it probably won't matter. Cuz dude, it's cash.

This prize is named FeFe's Cookie Jar because my great grandmother, grandmother and probably every other kind of mid century mama kept her funds hidden where man would most likely not venture - the kitchen. Sugar bowls, coffee cans and the like, women have been stashing Benjamin in the craziest places. This woman's got to put the mula in the place she spends her most time - Where cookies go to die. In honor of women doing all they can to hold onto their dough, I salute you.

How much cash we talkin'?

That's completely up to you. Here's how it works: Thursday the 11th and Friday the 12th I will be posting statuses on Fearlessly Female's Facebook page titled The Hot Truth. Under each Hot Truth you are given the chance to comment. Each relevant comment will put a dollar in the cookie jar. Bam! That was easy. Or was it?

If you've been following the blog you know what I mean when I refer to The Uglies. Well, right as I was exercising my courage to share my scariest story I panicked and ceased all operations. Fear stepped in and I walked away from it all. Much followed that I will surely share with you this month. As I began to plan for my return to the blog the idea of a lesson in fearlessness set my spine straight. "I have to do it." But let's begin with fun. The Hot Truths are small bites of my life; who I am, inside and out. They aren't ugly but they are either embarrassing, intimate, or outright ridiculous details that few people in my world know. I would love for you to follow suit with a piece of your own story. Whatever moves you to write, whether simply about what I shared or going out on a personal limb. This is what I mean by relevant. Make it you, make it real.

Why "The Hot Truth"?

Cause it makes me sweat a little.

The rules of play:

You must "Like" the www.facebook.com/fearlesslyfemale page to win. (You will feel Lovely for it!)
You may only leave one comment per individual Hot Truth. There will be at least ten so you have plenty of chances to enter. Each unique comment counts as one entry and one dollar into the pot.
You may live anywhere in the world and win. God bless Air Mail.
The winner will be chosen randomly from a drawing. No favoritism. That's cheating, yo.
If you win, you must provide me with a valid address so that I may send it to you. I promise I will not come to your door or raid your house for potato chips.
The contest will close at 6pm on Friday the 12th and the winner will be announced around 8pm PT on the FF Facebook page with alot of whoopin' and hollerin'. The winner has 48 hours to claim their prize. If the winner does not come forward they forfeit their prize and another winner will be chosen.
The Saliva Clause will be enacted, meaning if we share DNA (family) or have swapped spit (past or present luvahs) you do not qualify to win. I know...it sucks! Call me, I'll take you out to lunch instead. Please don't let it stop you from commenting. Your comments are gold.
The amount of cash that will be stuffed into FeFe's Cookie Jar will be tallied and announced on Friday the 12th at 8PM. Please Note: FeFe is still a working girl and must put a cap on the amount. I will not tell you what that cap is but it's enough to make you want to do a jig in your undies. Just know, I'm going to make it as fun for you as I possibly can.
FeFe's Cookie Jar will be ready to ship to the winner in early to mid November. I gotta earn that cash, baby!
If you would like to leave Hot Truth comments but do not wish to participate in Lovelies Like a Giveaway, bless your soul. All you need to do is write *No entry* at the end of your comments and I will not include you in the drawing.

Well you gorgeous human beings, I do believe that covers it. If you can think of anything I may have left out or you find this 2:48 AM rambling numbingly confusing (I have no idea what I just wrote tonight) please do not hesitate to let me know.

And by the by - If you feel so inclined, why not leave a comment below just for the helluvit? Just because you can. Or because you're wearing blue today and blue is your favorite color. Or because the San Francisco Giants are pulling their shit together and winning again. Or because you're mother guilted you into always doing what you're told. Leave a comment. (See how that works?) Or because you love FeFe and FeFe loves you. I do. Ridiculously.

Onward, my Lovely. Return to Facebook, look for The Hot Truth #1 and pounce on your freedom to share who you are, dagnabbit. I can't wait to finally meet you. May the festivities begin!

...

8:45 AM UPDATE: I won't be playing hookie from work after all but this has no effect on today's madness saturation level. It just means I will be breaking a lot of law office rules. Seems apropos. Bossman out. No worries. Secondly, I'm going to cuss a lot more than usual today. I already yelled Holy Hell to the sun. I'm excited. I cuss when I'm excited. Shit. That felt good. See you on the otherside!

...

Signs that you just may be a masochist.

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Mon, 11 Jun 2012 14:26:19 PDT

My way: A true and accurate depiction of any ~~accomplished~~ hour not under the influence of steadily administered Chocolate, denial and/or fast asleep.

The easy way: A pretty awesome diagram for the proper use of dental floss.

(If you resemble this sentiment you may want to check out this, this, and maybe even this?)

.....

Babes Without Bankroll - It's Shopping Season!

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Thu, 26 Apr 2012 15:23:26 PDT

(Which is exactly like hunting season without the blood and guts. Unless you shop half-price day sales at Goodwill, then may I suggest jungle rules?)

"Let's go shopping!"

That statement never ceases to send well-dressed endorphins raging through my spinal cord. If you get flushed with excitement as I do then, yes! - Let's! If shopping makes your gag reflexes go off like a contestant on Survivor then, my Lovely, allow me to take you by the hand and introduce you to the promise land. There's Chocolate involved, so...

If you aren't familiar with FF's frugal sister Babes Without Bankroll then allow me to introduce you:

BWB Video, this is my Lovely and she (or he) is exquisite. I mean, all sorts of hot-damn extraordinary going on up in there! Please be your alluring self and send a bit of dreaminess into her (or his) fashionable aspirations.

My Lovely, this is Babes Without Bankroll. Forgive her her moments of audacious, "here I am!" sentiments. She means well and does even better. Give her a few moments of your viewing time, try to ignore her glitches and dream a little of dream of amazing finds that make you feel more alive and beautiful than you have in...ever.

Dear Readers, we here at Fearlessly Female are getting ready for some ridiculously fun shopping trips this summer. If you would like to join us or get more information on Babes Without Bankroll and what we have in store in the coming months then watch me do the dance of joy. (Doing the dance of joy like a crazy person!)

Sit back for a spell. Watch the video. Leave a comment. (I love comments more than Chocolate. Ok, that's a lie. But I really, really love your comments). Get on the list. And look forward to having a ball in the bay area!

.........

Happy New Year, My Lovelies.

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 18:14:53 PST

Whether spent alone with your furry one, dreamy wishes for 2012 and a half-eaten mongo bag of Peanut M&M's, or surrounded by noisemakers, cold gin and strangers wanting to kiss you, or caught in the embrace of the one you love, waiting for the ball to drop telling you it's time to celebrate another year of possibility both great and small, (all sound pretty swell if you ask me), may your night be as delicious as this perfect little song sung perfectly.

What are you doin' New Year's Eve?

Please be safe. Have a blast. Remember how far you've come. Cry a little for it. Laugh a lot after it. Pop a cork. Peel back a Ben & Jerry's lid. Take a deep breath and believe. This new year is yours. Use it for all its worth.

A thousand tiny bubbles of love...

Happy New Year!!

FeFe xx

Lovelies Like A Giveaway - Make A Wish!

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 09:49:05 PST

They say money can't buy you love. It's ok because FeFe is giving that stuff away for free.

It can, however, buy you three-quarters of a night's stay at the romantic Sir Francis Drake Hotel in Union Square, the fantastic pair of Audrey Brooke Higrade Boots available here that I mentioned on FB and can't seem to go more than two days without wearing, 24 much needed morning iced grande soy lattes with a Chocolate croissant (The breakfast of the fearless), or 450 sometimes-if-you're-lucky-fresh-from-the-oven-and-surprisingly-delicious melty chocolate chip cookies from McDonald's drive-thru. (Is there any other way than drive-thru? I mean, hello crotch hole pajama pants. We need cookies!)

This month's Lovelies Like A Giveaway is going green and I don't mean with envy or in a way that will save the ozone layer. I'm talkin' mula. One hundred and fifty smackaroos, to be exact!

They also say money doesn't grow on trees but it sure does make for an enticing holiday wreath.

One lucky Lovely will win the Wreath of Dreams made with an 80/20 ratio of Love to Chocolate (the love is hidden, though I promise it is attached if you look close enough, and the Chocolate, well....ummm...let's just say I may have eaten it.) Oh! And 150 one dollar bills - Crimped, pinched, wired, bent, fanned and folded for your money keeping (or giving) pleasure. Hang it on the wall and cut loose a few bucks here and there or get your machete out pronto and release at once!

How to Enter!

All you have to do to enter is find your way to the Fearlessly Female Facebook page and click *Like* on any status, post, link or photo from Wednesday, December 21 through Friday, December 23.

The winner will be randomly drawn from all *Like* entries and announced on the FF Facebook page Friday night.

Entries will only be counted on items posted by FeFe herself - Not items posted to the wall by the Lovelies.

You may enter as many times as you like.

You must be a friend/fan of Fearlessly Female on Facebook to win so make sure to *Like* the page.

This prize can only be shipped to a US address and will be mailed during the first week of January.

Lovelies Like A Giveaway is subject to the Saliva Clause.
(Not eligible to win if we currently share bodily fluids including but not limited to blood & spit.)
It's kind of like Santa Clause but with more kissing.

And now for the dreams...

Not only is there something pretty awesome to get in this Giveaway but there is something even better to give.

Fearlessly Female has added a tender way to celebrate this season as a community of giving hearts. Let us Make A Wish upon this gift.

Here's how:

For every *Share* of a status, photo or link on the Fearlessly Female Facebook page during the length of this contest, Wednesday, December 21 through Friday, December 23, FeFe will donate one dollar to the

Make-A-Wish Foundation in your honor, my Lovelies.

Please note: Only *Shares* that appear on the FF Facebook page, meaning shared from the original link and not shared from a share from a share, will be able to be counted. It is the only way Facebook will allow me to be privy to shares.

And...

For every comment given below this blog post or any others posted between now and Friday, FeFe will donate two dollars (limited to two comments per person). Meaning you may donate up to $4 through FeFe's pocketbook just by writing a few words about your own wishes to this blog.

The total gift amount will be tallied around 10pm Friday, December 23 and will be donated in the name of Fearlessly Female's Lovelies. The donation will be given in the month of January and I will post the gift card sent by Make-A-Wish on the Facebook wall when it arrives.

Let's see how much we can raise through our FF community. $50? $100? $274? More?

It is the power of being Lovely.

You have the potential to help a child with a life-threatening medical condition see the snow for the very first time or commandeer his own pirate ship. How cool is that?!

Shall we begin?

My dearest Lovelies, tell me....What do you wish for?

And please stay tuned (if the boss man frees me up!) for more blogs before Christmas, including how you can make this money wreath with the origami star (It's a great way to give money as a gift, especially for kids) as well as inspiring tips on the art of giving.

Big Love and Dark Chocolate, FeFe xx

...

Signs that you just may be a masochist.

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Wed, 26 Oct 2011 21:18:00 PDT

Going into a Marshalls' dressing room, stripping down to your faded purple-cuz-it's-sexy granny panties, hole in the toe Hanes tube socks, and a nude utility bra 42 millimeters thick enough to cause your boobs to resemble something like plastic mixing bowls; trying on two different sized jeans with the new fangled suck it in tummy panel and higher waist that are not called Mom Jeans, in front of a body length mirror lit all the way around as an interrogation mechanism, burning the same wattage as surgery room lights, which can see right through your epidermis and into the chain reaction of your cellulite reproducing because what we really want when we go try on clothes is head to toe ripple revelation; holding your breath for 12 seconds as you convince yourself that a karate chop crease down the center of your abdomen is really quite hot and the term "folds" is under appreciated, as you do enough deep knee bends, squats and pelvic thrusts that would make an Olympic medalist proud, stretching your new smaller size fine ass non-Mom Mom Jeans into an unidentified shape; allowing you to breathe well enough to pay the lady without a paramedic present; driving home while standing, plotting your 48 hours starvation diet of celery juice and gummi bears, and then eating an entire 1.67556 lb Chipotle burrito under 7 minutes because you can't find the sour cream in that bite that you swear you saw Mr. Burrito Maker Guy plop in; wondering if you're insane, convincing yourself that you're not, launching into a full burrito investigation, ignoring the fact that you have no more feeling below your waist from your denim crotch tourniquet, because holy mother of God, with wide eyed excitement and 1215 calories consumed you just found ALL the sour cream in the last bite.

What a relief.

Lovelies Like A Giveaway! #3 ~ FeFe's Playlist

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Wed, 26 Oct 2011 12:29:23 PDT

If there is anything FeFe loves as much as ridiculously beautiful cars and swooning over her Darlin', it's music. Good music. Booty-shakin' music. The kind of songs that makes you drive faster than you should and love harder than you thought possible. Sooo, today's Lovelies Like A Giveaway is all about the tunes that make a girl or guy feel happy to be alive. FeFe has a 'Sweety' for a lucky Lovely!

Who is FeFe and what is a "Sweety"? To find out, click over to the original Fearless adventure of a girl gone wild for love, bacon, couture and saucy automobiles with a soundtrack that drives her . Literally. And in case you haven't heard, FeFe will be coming out of hiding soon. That girl has been up to something.
So, my Lovelies...What is FF giving away this week?

New iPod Shuffle 2GB ~ Learn about it at Apple.com

Yeah, baby! Brand new, just for you. Choose the color you love the most of the New iPod Shuffle 2GB and it will be ordered just for you from Apple.com after the winner has been announced.

Safely engraved by Apple, from FF to you!

And since FeFe has a serious soft spot for sentimental words, it will come personally engraved with a special message from FeFe to you, my Lovely. She's just gooey that way.

And lastly, but certainly not least, just like the trunk of that sweet little ~~stolen~~ '67 Mustang fastback named Eleanor, this iPod comes loaded! A bevy of songs from FeFe's Playlist will be downloaded, uploaded and every which way cruising into the ear buds.
Muse, Stevie Wonder, U2, Arctic Monkeys, Billie Holiday, Adele, AC/DC, Aretha Franklin, Fiona Apple, and of course, Darlin', are just a few of the artists Sweety will be playin'. Plus, leaving plenty of space on the iPod for your own selections.
You will also received a burned CD with the loaded tunes so that you may upload them into your own iTunes account and allow Sweety to hold onto them forever if you wish.
There are two ways to enter:
1.) Visit Fearlessly Female's Facebook fan page and click "Like" on any blog announcement, music link or video, presented by FF only (You may post your own videos but any likes on them will not count as an entry this go'round), that states "FeFe's Playlist" in the commentary. One "Like" counts as one entry. FeFe's Playlist Videos will be posted randomly for the next two days giving you more chances to win! Official entries will only count on videos posted by Fearlessly Female herself this go'round. Comments on Facebook and "Likes" on those comments do not count as an official entry.
2.) Leave a comment on the blog answering this question, "What song or songs personify YOU? What would be on your personal soundtrack?" And here's the juicy part ~ Comments left on the blog count as 3 entries. THREE! Please note, you may comment as many times as you like but only one will count as entry into this Giveaway. This is just my personal way of showing my deep appreciation for you Lovelies who leave such awesome comments here at the blog.
Entries close at 8pm on Thursday, October 27 and the winner will be announced later that evening as a song dedication on A Little Night Music on the FF on FB page.

EVER!

The rules + small print:

Lovelies Like A Giveaway is open to the universe and beyond.
You must be a fan/friend of Fearlessly Female's Facebook page to win. Meaning ~ "Like" us!
You may enter as many times as you like according to the rules of entry listed above.
Prize will ship within 3-4 weeks of winning on this one since it is ordered and personalized after the win.
This item cannot be returned or exchanged
Prize is non-transferable.
"Like" entries must be made on Fearlessly Female Facebook posts and does not apply to what you "Like" on Tiffany's personal page.
Winner will be chosen randomly by old fashioned methods, i.e. scribbled on paper bits and drawn from an official law office Tupperware container. (Unless we get so many entries the trunk of a '69 Camaro will have to be used. Nowwwwww....just to track down that Camaro.)
The Saliva Clause will be in effect. (Saliva Clause: Not eligible to win if we currently share bodily fluids including but not limited to blood & saliva. Got to keep it fair!)

So Get On Your Boots and shuffle on over to FF on Facebook. You're gonna Like this!

...

TGIFF! The Lovelies Edition

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Mon, 24 Oct 2011 12:03:21 PDT

If you're not aware of what TGIFF (Thank God It's Fearless Friday!) is then peek into the original to find out how The FF Word and God mix perfectly (even though I drive illegally, say Holy SHIT and scream out Jesus' name in a pissed off pickle or when I see the flash of a red sole mocking my rubber tread).

It's been awhile since I've been thanking God properly - In writing. He is always near enough to hear my Holy SHIT muttering and utterings but there is something so great...so beautiful...so absolutely delectable that I cannot allow another Friday to go by without proper credit where gratefulness is due.

So...

Thank you, God. Thank you for my Lovelies. I thank You for bringing each and every one of them into my world in the most magical way. How did You know who I would need? How did You know who I would love? Only You, God. You big softy. They are extraordinary. You have created a new family where there was none; from the ashes of the past sorrows and losses of love. From the thousands of miles that separate us all you have caused us to converge on this blissful highway of glittering shoes, the wisdom of sages, enough Chocolate to make any man (not woman because it would be impossible) sick, fearlessly open hearts and a booty-shakin' dance party of night music. I know You know that I know what You know about the whole shebang...

But my Lovelies, I want you to know:

That when I wake up every single morning you're the third thought I have (after Baybeh-Baybeh & how soon I can get Chocolate into my mouth).

That if I am in a sticky situation during the day and I'm completely confuddled about it I ask myself, "What would Lovelies do?". And then I try to do just that.

That if I had to choose between forevermore losing my days amongst you and cutting off my leg, I would beg and plead like mad not to have my leg cut but then I would do it and sport a snazzy bedazzled prosthetic with bionic abilities and put on a damn cute shoe where my foot used to be and return to you...Because you are where I want to be.

That if I had a million dollars I would keep $499, 999 for bare essentials like 1.) A '66 Corvette Stingray in Mosport Green Metallic, and 2.) A private concert (on my living room floor, by the crackling fire, with a bottle of chilled Champagne, and a padlock on the front door) from Darlin', and then spend the rest buying the sexiest damn shoes $501,000 can buy for you Lovelies.

That I check the Fearlessly Female on Facebook page about every 11.3 minutes just to see if you're there. And then if I see you I turn red, smile wide, do some kind of weird 'hair in the mouth' thing that I just noticed, and look around feverishly to tell someone, anyone that you're here! You're here!

That if I was fired right now for writing you a love letter instead of updating the contents of the Will safe, as I was instructed to do, that it would be worth it because you bring me something more valuable than what can ever be put into my bank account.

That I have spent just about every lunch hour, court visit, recorder's office run, and spare minute during the work day parked in front of Starbuck's in my broken down jalopy with laptop open, stealing their WiFi so I can have just one more moment with you. Yes, I return to the office late EVERY DAY.

That I have actually peed my pants a little while reading the FF on FB wall after you've visited.

That you are more gorgeous than you can see. You are wiser than you realize. You are more fearless than you know. Your beauty goes far beyond what the eye can comprehend. You're the real deal, my Lovelies. You've got the light of love in you and it radiates far beyond the interwebs and defies any darkness that may come. God lights my path but you...You, have lit up my dreams.

You are the rain on parched days and the sun in blistering cold. You are everything I hoped for and so much more than I could have ever imagined. I thank God for the moment you arrived and I pray we will always be here for each other.

No matter what.

Psssst. God. I know. For reals. They are so much more than Awesome. They probably don't even know it. Please protect them and love them with every big and little thing you got going in that spirit of yours. Bless them deeply and set fire to their dreams. Let them know above all things just how worthy they are. Let them know they are forever Loved.

Your ever gooey, sappy and Chocolatey servant,

Tiffany Yet To Be Determined xx

Lovelies Like A Giveaway #2 ~ Shoes!

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Tue, 18 Oct 2011 13:49:34 PDT

To consecrate and sanctify a few of my favorite things, FF has given away Chocolate and coffee ~ The two most important food groups according to FeFe. (Cheeseburgers, Diet Pepsi & Sour Gummi Worms rounding out the pyramid. And by rounding out I mean, my waistline. Hence the need for the Diet Pepsi food group. It's just being responsible.)

A big congratulations to Sheerah for winning our Gateau et Ganache & Starbucks Giveaway last week!

Next on the FF favorites list is something I never intended to include but could not deny after posting this silly picture on Facebook and getting a surprising response from the girls ~ "LOVE the shoes!"

"This job is harder than it looks" ~ Break time at the Law Offices of Baybeh-Baybeh & Baybeh

These sweet slippers carry me for hours without pain. They are a part of my weekly wardrobe because they look smashing with just about everything. They have a no-slip sole so I won't crash and burn while flying across the marble lobby with hot coffees and client files in tow. They are practically silent compared to the typical high heel, which is ideal if you are a ninja or jewel thief (only one of which I have experience in.) They are sexy/sweet/modern/retro all at the same time. They are just as adorable, if not more, on bare skin as over opaque tights. They receive compliments every time they grace my feet and are the most comfortable heels I own ~ bar none.

AND they are really hard to find since I purchased them at the beginning of the Fall 2011 season and are now sold out at most retailers. But not for FeFe! I am privy to one last source, therefore, they are the next gift in Lovelies Like A Giveaway!

G BY GUESS Lucasa Sandal

Suede upper
Peep toe
Open ruffled T-strap
Adjustable ankle wrap
1¼" platform, 4¾" covered heel
Synthetic sole
Imported

The winner will have a choice of sizes between 6 - 11 with half sizes available. Please note: These run slightly large. This prize is valued at $69.00 and will come in black suede.

How to enter: 1) First and foremost, be a friend of Fearlessly Female's Facebook Fanpage. 2) Beginning on Tuesday, October 18 and ending Thursday, October 20, click "Like" on any FF Facebook post, link, photo, or status that makes reference to "Shoes". This will give you more than one chance to win!

How will I know if I won?: Check the FF Facebook page on Thursday night as the winner will be announced with a song dedication on the "A little night music" link. The winner will have 48 hours to claim their prize by commenting on the link before forfeiting the prize to a new winner.

The rules + small print:

Lovelies Like A Giveaway is open to the universe and beyond.
Prize will ship within 3-4 weeks of winning on this one. (The shoes will be ordered after choosing a winner and shipped from the company to me first and then from me to you).
Once size is chosen and shipped they cannot be returned for a different size.
Prize is non-transferable.
Entries must be made on Fearlessly Female Facebook posts and does not apply to what you "Like" on Tiffany's personal page.
Winner will be chosen randomly by old fashioned methods, i.e. scribbled on paper bits and drawn from an official law office Tupperware container. (Maybe this time I'll get fancy and type them out on a pleadings template and actually use the feathered hat.).
The Saliva Clause will be in effect. (Saliva Clause: Not eligible to win if we currently share bodily fluids including but not limited to blood & spit. If we swapped spit two years ago or longer, go for it baby!)

These are really, really cute shoes. You want these. So remember ~ Click on "Like" every time I mention shoes on the FF Facebook page from Tuesday thru Thursday and wish upon a fallen eyelash that you win!

And guys? You want these, too ~ For your woman...for your sister...for your secretary...for your barista...for your boss...for your favorite blogger (Hint, hint, I could use another pair!)...for you...(Did I say that? I mean, they do go up to size 11. Just sayin'.)

Good Luck, my delectable Lovelies! Get your bodacious booties to Facebook and have fun!

Pssst, Lovelies...C'mere. For one bonus entry into the giveaway leave a comment below this blog post sharing the size you wish for and how you would wear these shoes. Shhh, you didn't hear it from me.

Signs that you just may be a masochist.

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Wed, 26 Oct 2011 20:59:19 PDT

Waking up at 5am to frantically pack a week's worth of pencil skirts, after staying up until 2am the night before because the Real Housewives of New Jersey Bitchfest Reunion Part 1 was on (and more important at the time) than packing pencil skirts; to rush, dodge and weave through 140 miles of morning rush hour traffic, wearing 4 inch heels and a skirt so tight I have to breathe through my elbows; straddling a large Diet Pepsi with extra ice and an iced grande soy latte between my legs because my cup holders are filled with rusted pennies and earrings too painful to wear longer than an hour, while maneuvering the steering wheel with my knees so I can tease hair for the 7th time trying to cover up the bald spot; in a beat up pickup truck with a broken windshield, two bald tires, faulty tail lights, and a cracked head that leaks oil into the radiator, replacing antifreeze with an oozing concoction resembling something between Chocolate mousse and baby poo, aka Poo Mousse, and smells just as good; speeding into CHP territory with overdue registration tags and a 21 month invalid driver's license, using my fuzz-seeking intuitive girl powered radar to avoid cops at all costs as not to go to jail ~~again;~~ 3 hours later riding on fumes and having to pee really, really bad because I just inhaled that large Diet Pepsi and that iced grande soy latte; cursing bald spot and wiping off Chocolate croissant crumbs from ace bandage skirt just in time to screech into work a teensy bit ~~a lot~~ late at the Law Offices of Baybeh-Baybeh & Baybeh, looking impossibly ~~frazzled~~ refreshed five counties away from where I began, because it all makes going to work that much more exhilarating.

Rinse and repeat next week with the Real Housewives of New Jersey Bitchfest Reunion Part 2.

*Foot-in-heels note*

Bald tires ~ No worries. They've just been replaced. I don't want to die covered in iced soy latte.

Poo Mouse Antifreeze ~ My little truck should be studied by automotive scientists. Poo Mousse has somehow, someway kept my engine cooled for over a year now.
Drinking two beverages at a time ~ I'm indulgent...with Drink Deficit Disorder...and weird.

Cracked head ~ Yes, I mean mine too.

Lovelies 'Like' a Giveaway!

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Tue, 18 Oct 2011 02:03:51 PDT

You are Lovely,

In every possible way.

There is more to you than meets the eye,

You are finer than words can say.

These two years have given FF wings.

It is you, my Lovely, that has guided the way.

I love you more than Chocolate & coffee,

Therefore I'm giving my favorites away.

Exquisite Lovelies of FF Facebook, the blog and beyond:

This fall ushers in what I like to call,

Lovelies Like a Giveaway!

What is FF giving away?

Some of my favorite things.

The things that make me jump for joy.

The goods that keep the blues at bay and glee at hand.

The doo-dads that set FF's world on fire.

When is FF giving these juicy bits and pieces away?

Beginning Wednesday, October 12th through the end of 2011.

The giveaways will vary in length of entry and come at surprising times.

Check the blog and Facebook page often for updates.

How do I win the goods?

It's super simple.

All you have to do is like it.

Seriously.

When you see an image on FF's Facebook page titled Lovelies Like a Giveaway,

Click it! Dream of it! Drool over it!

Like it!

It's really that simple.

Who can win?

Anyone who is a Friend/Fan/Liker Extraordinaire of Fearlessly Female on Facebook.

Yes. Oui.

Let's be friends of the Loveliest kind.

If you have perused the blog,

Or are a person friend of Tiffany Yet To Be Determined,

But have not plunged into the FF world on Facebook,

Well?

Come on in and stay awhile.

You've been missed!

clickity click here <----

Do I need to live in the US?

Nope.

We are international, baby.

If I can find a way to ship to the moon,

It will be so.

How will you choose a winner?

I'm an old fashioned girl,

Who does things in old fashioned ways.

All the likes will be written upon bits of paper,

And pulled randomly out of a hat.

But a really cute hat.

With feathers.

How will I know if I won?

The winner of any giveaway will be announced on the FF Facebook page,

With your name highlighted (if FB isn't acting tempermental that day),

So that it reaches your FB page as well as announcing you to the FF world.

If we don't receive a response within 24 hours,

You will be privately messaged on Facebook.

If after 48 hours we don't receive a reply,

FF will choose another winner.

From the really cute hat.

If I could send smoke signals I would.

So my Lovelies, that about ties it up!

---> Be friends with FF on Facebook.

---> Like the posts that are entitled Lovelies Like a Giveaway.

---> Cross your eyes, and your fingers, and your legs and your toes.

Make a wish.

Blow a kiss.

Shake a booty.

(It doesn't have to be your own.)

---> And check in with yours truly on FF Facebook to see if you won a few of my favorite things.

Hot damn this will be fun!

PS...If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to comment below.

Post PS...Pass it along to your friends by sharing TheFFword through Facebook share buttons located either at the very top of this page in the dark gray banner listed as "Share" or at the bottom of each blog post, directly beneath "Comments".

Post PS Pssssst!.....I love you big.

Just sayin'.

~ First Lovelies Like a Giveaway starts this Wednesday! ~

How to finally get that thing done that you really want to do.

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Sun, 09 Oct 2011 19:08:36 PDT

It may come as no surprise that I have had a hell of a time switching gears back to the blog after 104 days of tripping over my ruby heels in The Land of Laws. Playing with TheFFword.com is just about my favorite thing to do on this great green earth besides making love to Chocolate and melting Mister Man.
If you are anything like FF you are easily distracted...anywhere...at any time. If you are nothing like FF jump for joy and spank your hiney for you hold the key! And then come sit next to me and share the secret to getting things done when there are new pleadings to file, glossy magazines to open and a needy kitten to cuddle?

Screw it. Glittery things and court houses can wait. I'm coming back here if it kills me.

Up at the homestead for the weekend and finally having some free time to ponder my next Fearlessly Female move, I stumbled upon this video. Like a masochistic angel in hot pants, Miranda July has shown us the way to getting things done. It's sick. It's twisted. It's flippin' brilliant.

Dagnabit, It just may work.

Miranda July: The Future on Nowness.com.

Chocolate as my hostage, I could get anything done. Now, where did I put the power drill so that Libby Loo will have air under her bowl?

My Lovelies, what will you need to "trap" to finally get that thing done?

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

...

Objection? Overruled!

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Mon, 27 Jun 2011 23:55:21 PDT

When I was but a blushing girl of 13 I never dreamed of the pleasures of typing, filing, nor the art of spacing hole punches in order to prevent dog-earring in overstuffed client files but gosh darnit, I'm dreaming now. As I mentioned a week ago, I landed myself into a rolling office chair with a title and a view. It arrived when my checking account was less than zero and my work attire centered around a pair of paint splattered overalls held together with fine gage wire and "dyed to match" lace-up work boots. Though I found great comfort and even a swab of sexy flowing through the power of manly tools in my hand, the assets that Dungarees provide and the ability to drink on the job, the time comes when your brain wants to be exercised and your derriere squeezed into a pencil skirt.

Today I enter week three of Fearless File Clerk with a side dish of Legal Secretary sauteed in Paralegal butter. This FF has scored a job at a bay area law firm and is wondering when they will catch on that I have absolutely no experience with discoveries, motions or pleadings? Wait. Wait one Chocolate-pickin'-minute! I have discovered that if one motions with a certain je ne sais quoi it will most certainly cause a man to plead. I do! I do have experience in law after all. Perhaps a different practice, so to speak, but knowledge of law none the less.

In a few hours I will jump into my battered truck, gas her up, with two suitcases and hot rollers in tow, iced grande soy latte in hand, kiss my Libby kitty goodbye and head down the highway for 3 hours until I reach the office. In four days I will slink back into my battered truck, gas her up, shove in the suitcases without the hot rollers because I will certainly forget them, Diet Pepsi in hand, kiss my attorney goodbye and head up the highway for 3 hours until I reach my bedroom. Rinse and repeat next week.

There is a bit of hardship involved in trying to outrun financial devastation but there is also a major dose of beauty in what's happening right now. All of a sudden I appreciate "home" more. And the time spent gabbing with my parents on the deck at dusk is sweeter. And the songs on my iPod at mile 63 are more heavenly. And the fact that my beat-up, oil leaking truck hasn't failed me is a miracle in and of itself. And selecting, accessorizing and pressing my Fantasy Secretary Garb (more about that later) for the week is a guilty girlish pleasure. And sitting at my desk knowing my future is being prepared one updated client file at a time is a Godsend. And having half my week in the big city and the other half in the sleepy country is something many of us dream of. And learning a skill set that is highly desirable will ensure that I can be gainfully employed forever more. And I will finally be a girl who is no longer needy and instead, self-sufficient again. And building life-long relationships on both sides of the Bay Bridge will keep me giddy as can be. And I can enjoy the perks of sexual-harassment on the job with appropriate representation (more about that later, too). And I can deeply appreciate what so many of you go through to provide for yourselves and for your families that involves sacrifice and endurance. And I get to be a small part of worried people fighting for their rights and their futures. And I can see it all as an experiment in going through the wide open doors, no matter what is on the other side. And I can ride this adventure until the door closes and take from it all that is worthy and give back everything I have in myself to do a great job and add a bit of Fearless joy, light and gratitude to whomever and whatever crosses my desk.

And if I keep my eyes open, my mind sharp and my boobs hiked up high I can maybe, just maybe do something a little like this...

And if I make too many typos, lag in dictation or get too good at the sexual harassment element it may result in something a little more like this...

Off I go into the world of law in a pair of red pumps and the dream of "non-sufficient funds" being removed from my vocabulary. My Lovelies, the blog may suffer the consequences for a short period until I get my sea legs but with God as my witness you remain my heart's greatest desire. I will not be far. Here's to happy surprises for us all and the hope that tomorrow, maybe, just maybe, if you live the life you have been heavenly built to lead, that you too can find joy in not only the easy moments but also find gratitude in the sacrifices...........along with the delight of a little welcomed harassment of the sexy kind when you need it most.

Side Bar ~ I am in no way condoning or supporting the discomfort and effects of sexual harassment in the workplace or elsewhere. In this blog I use the term playfully. My case is special and welcomed, as will be revealed later. Just sayin!

*If you are reading this post in email make sure to click here to watch the videos*

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A funny thing happened on the way to financial devastation...

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Mon, 13 Jun 2011 20:34:20 PDT

Something happened last week. Something a little like this...

With a blank rezoom and sight unseen, Tiffany Yet To Be Determined landed herself a job. And unlike Mrs. Wiggens, I didn't have to pass Mrs. Bossman's boobiful test. God bless you, Nepotism!

Am I working at a super cool vintage clothing boutique? That would make perfect sense, but no. Did I wiggle my way into the closet of Darlin' as his personal stylist? Dammit, not this time. Have I finally landed my dream job as head-honcho taste tester at an award winning Chocolate factory? So sorry to report, no. (*On my knees*...Are you there God and Anni Golding? It's me, Chocoholic.) Well then? Stay tuned!

(Hint: It won't result in anything like this ever again.....Who am I fooling? I will surely do this again.)

Paint in the hair. Babe Without Bankroll's Olympic Interior Satin finish highlights that, after 2 months, STILL remain. Can Loreal say as much? Ok, maybe only 2 strands are effected today, but STILL. If you missed the joyfully laborious ruckus of my last part time job to subsidise FF and her Chocolate habit, read an oldie but goodie about 'Man Work' by clicking here.

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Sexpot Sundae: Killer Curves

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Mon, 06 Jun 2011 17:12:44 PDT

Rated R for female nudity. If you are sensitive to provocative images, I respectfully ask that you close your eyes and slowly step away from the blog. With love, xx

It's not the size of the thigh, it's the slink in the step. It's the stalk in the walk. To catch a glimpse of curvaceous confidence is ever as appealing as an exposed slip of "model" thin skin. (I use model loosely as the fashion climate is surely changing.) Those savvy Italians are celebrating the natural curve of a woman in all her glory for the cover and editorial layout of June's Vogue Italia. They haven't stopped there either. Vogue.it has devoted a continual chapter of their website to curvy girls (i.e. size 12 and up) with inspiring videos, stories of celebrities who break the size 2 mold and style tips for a fuller figure. But I digress....this is Sexpot Sundae and these bodacious women are melting all over the page.

Vogue Italia’s June cover shoot features plus size models in a dreamy escapade of sensuality and elegance. Captured by Steven Meisel, models Candice Huffine, Tara Lynn and Robyn Lawleytion strip down to their unmentionable (and less) with fashionable flare and unwavering confidence.

In the summer of 2008, after a ~~meltdown~~ frustrated breakup with a boy who was 15 years my junior *insert unwitting cougar growl here*, I took my fat ass straight to Nutrisystems for $744 worth of Skinny-Girl Super-Booster Mojo conveniently shrink-wrapped and distributed to my digestive system through minuscule portioned, atomic bomb resistant "food". I gleefully lost the weight (30lbs worth) and gained a pair of Jr. size 7 skinny jeans that I was able to tuck into boots for the first time in.....well.....the first time. Me and my flat ass also bagged a man who loves skinny girls. When I began eating real food again and finding immense pleasure in it, I found my body going back to where it loved to be.....Size Me. I found out that curves do in fact kill. In this case, a relationship was murdered.

With the increased Size Me weight came concern and with the concern came loss of confidence and with the loss of confidence came lack of worth and with the lack of worth came the end of a once happy union. Good news though: He found his new skinny girl and I welcomed back my fat ass that I honestly and truthfully missed. Seriously, how do skinny girls sit for long periods of time? My newly found butt bones were killing me when applied to hard surfaces...like a chair. Eventually, baby got her backside back! Not to mention my boobs returned in full. I've never been mammarily (it's not really a word but it's cute) well endowed but I'll be damned if they aren't luscious when they have been eating Chocolate Croissants. Plus it makes feeling myself up much more satisfying. I kid. (It's always satisfying). My voluptuously female features are in no way perfect and I still poke at them saying, "Why must you?!", but gosh darnit they suit me and serve me well.

My sassy Sexpots, here's the rub-a-dub-doozy: We want to look amazing. We all do, even if it is a desire hidden away under your ex's baggy clothes and a pissed-off guilt ridden bite of New York Super Fudge Chunk (Ben & Jerry's...Go out and get yourself some!). It's smart to be healthy. It's good to be fit. It's worth it to trim yourself down to your best weight. It really does make life easier and builds a girl's (or boy's) confidence. But the key factor here is your best weight. We all have engines and all engines are not created equally. They are built for a specific purpose. Some are for speed, some are for rugged terrain, some are for cruising, some are for efficiency but all, and I mean allllll are meant for the pleasure of a great ride. As women we all have uniquely built motors that we have nothing to do with. We are carefully crafted by a Master Mechanic. It is then up to us to make sure we use the right fuel and drive our bodies, and in response, our lives, for the greatest adventure. If you are meant to be a size 2 by living and eating fruitfully (i.e. not starving yourself) then that is your natural body. And if you find yourself a size 14 while taking care to feed, move and love what physiologically creates you, then baby, you're simply a curvy girl. It only pains us all to try to become who we are not.

And men? I don't think I'm telling most of you anything you don't already know when I say that curvy girls are sexier than they give themselves credit for. We women are harder on ourselves than you could ever be to us. Our quietest voice can be secretly vicious to our hungry psyches. So, to you men who don't choose love by dress size? I exuberantly jump on my mattress and do the fat-ass-jiggle dance in your direction. For curvy girl's are softer in more ways than the flesh. They tend to be warm nurturers, naturally affectionate and generous lovers in every possible way. If you pass her on the street, it's as if her swinging swagger is purring, "Come to Momma", while you relocate your dropped jaw. And curvy girls won't criticize you for eating straight out of the ice cream container in the middle of the night, for ordering large fries with your combo or choosing Chocolate AND Sour Gummi Worms at the movie theatre because one just doesn't satisfy the entire tongue bed of taste buds. All we ask is that you share...generously.

So get out that deep dish and start scooping, my Lovelies, for this Sexpot Sundae is going to be ladled on big and ladled on thick. Consider yourself warned ~ Killer curves ahead. Size You Lovelies, be inspired. You are gorgeous and sexy and the great lovers of this world, thick thighs and all.........

Next time you look in the mirror, smile and be thankful for what God and your Momma gave you for it is all good.

Big Love and Darker Chocolate,

Tiffany "Size Me" xx

(And if you're not fully persuaded yet....)

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Girls run this muther.

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Fri, 20 May 2011 13:28:05 PDT

Who run the world? Girls. Quietly. Powerfully. With a smile. With a scream. Standing firm on 5" heels. Running in bare feet. With a slink. With a stance. With a voice. In a dance. On top of a mountain. In front of the stove. Under the covers. Under your nose. Behind a wheel. Making a deal. Flipping a curl. She's *just* a Girl. She's a bitch. She's a dream. She's the mastermind behind the machine. With a heart beating. With bones breaking. The woman is yours for the taking. Treat her right. Lift her high. She will love you with a fire that burns ever bright. Softly. Tenderly. Made of steel. She has the power to heal. She is everything, everywhere. Never mistake her for less. She will change your life if given the chance. Now go.........celebrate. Be the gift and the ruler. Be the lover and the fighter. Go, Girl, into the wild blue yonder. Be confident and know you're part of the equation. Your feminine persuasion can change a nation.

More. More. There is so much more to come.....

Big Love & Dark Chocolate!

Your FF xx

The video ~ Beyonce is simply one badass Girl. (Personally *love* the last 5 seconds.)

(Note to Lovelies: The italicized text is Beyonce's lyrics. The remainder is FF's rantings.)

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Why did he have to become so nice?

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Wed, 04 May 2011 12:11:39 PDT

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I thought I finally found my bastard and then he went and FF'ed it all up by being great! Dammit.

As my mama always says, "Life can change on a dime." And you bet your sweet tuckus, it has.

I can't wait to get back here with you and share the quixotic happenings within an uncommon life of a fearlessly *in-waiting* female. Thank you, my Lovelies, for not leaving me alone.

(Readers in email ~ Go to the blog to watch the video)

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TGIGFF! Special Edition!

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Fri, 22 Apr 2011 15:05:36 PDT

Thank God It's Good n' F*cked-Up Friday at The FF Word!

Want to know why this Friday is F*cked-Up and why I'm thanking God for it? Clickity-click here. Not there!....Here. (That was for you, Amanda.)

I'm not supposed to be here on the blog today but this could not wait to be posted and offered to my absolutely extraordinary Lovelies who have bestowed upon this humbled girl a multitude of impassioned gifts the past 24 hours, not the least of which are your words. Beautiful, lush, supportive, wise, feverishly enduring words. How can I thank you properly? Only God could do you justice.

I thank you God for your people. Do something really nice for them. On me.

And most importantly the Good part. I thank you God for committing the greatest act of love known to mankind ~ To sacrifice your Son, Jesus Christ, in such an agonizing, torturous manner for the sake of saving your children from themselves, for an eternity with You, the best guy EVER. To forgive us our sinful, flawed, wasted natures that we may be loved despite ourselves. For you so loved your babies that you gave us the gift of You incarnate, that we could find comfort in the knowledge that your own holy experience, embodied in human flesh and human weakness, would bring You closer to us, and us to You. That You get it. You get us. "For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life." John 3:16 That will never get old.

I only have one more piece of gratitude to share and then I'm outta here. That is to Tanya Keenan. Ms. Keenan sent me an email last night after reading Shards of Glass in support of my 'situation'. A simple, elegant email (from an elegant woman) with only eight words and an attachment that changed the course, of not only my night, but my heart of glass. May it inspire you with the same peaceful delight as it has me:

"I love you and this is for you..." ~ Ms Tanya Keenan

I thank you God for this.

Your humble servant (Dear sweet Jesus, forgive me that last bit),

FF xx

Shards of Glass

noreply@blogger.com (Your Captain FeFe) — Fri, 22 Apr 2011 00:01:07 PDT

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"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."

~ Anais Nin

This one's going to be a tough one so please bear with me, my Lovelies. It may come across as a rambling, hot mess. I want to write to you and tell you what's been happening the past few days but I also need to be very wise in my words. Just as we learned how important words can be to a cause so can they be to the heart...and a girl's reputation. This heart is gentle and therefore seeks to soften the blow. I also don't want to come off as a "downer". This is a thing told me time and again as something not to be here on the blog. Though I feel completely down, I don't want to sound like Charlie Brown's school teacher. So here is the non-downer, words wisely chosen blog post about feeling like crap.

I have lived my life as a fist. Both figuratively and literally. When I began this blog it was to break through many fears that I held tightly to my chest like four kings at a Texas Hold'em table. I saw the blog as an outlet for living out loud. This would be contrary to my secretive life of hopes and talents...of loves and losses. I haven't necessarily sought out to be a private person as many friends and family know who I am and what I'm about. But I have also kept many aspects of who I am under wraps. Fearlessly Female would set that little bird free. And boy, have I flown.

When I was a child, as I've mentioned in The Uglies, I was terrified of people.....of getting any attention.....of authority figures.....of speaking up, defending myself or proving a point. I have hated confrontation of any kind all the days of my life. These childhood fears have morphed and manifested themselves into one part of my adult body. My hands.

On daily walks around the lake, during one of the most beautiful rituals I have found to partake of, I can look down and find my hand clenched into a fist. While talking on the phone to someone I love or sharing the details of my upcoming day with the girls at Starbuck's there I will feel it, my hand as tight as a rubber ball. I can't even grow my fingernails past puberty length because they are continually being rubbed down by tight flesh. Subconsciously I do believe it is the reason I began writing so many years ago. It is one of the reasons I believe I can be found typing on my keyboard all throughout the day. My hands are released from the clenching fear of being bound. They are open and moving and free to express my heart into words. When I finish I return back to my default position. My hands, clutched.

Even on one of the best nights of my life (New Year's Eve, truly....THE BEST), my right hand is in it's 'closed for business' status.

They aren't in a defensive pose, ready to take out someone lights. They aren't ready to punch the wall in frustration. They aren't closed off in order to keep me from grabbing the Chocolate swiftly and with great ease (I don't need hands to do that. Talent!). They are my body's feeble way of protecting myself from intruders. Of shutting off, away from the world. The rest of me is free and happy and carefree. I am a physical person who adores affection and moving and dancing and working. I try to appear as approachable as a tulip with only four petals to hide my blushing center. But there remains a part that is hard to break open.

Last weekend I experienced one of the best nights I've had in years. It was a regular love fest of old friends, great music, hysterical laughter and the capturing of new memories. Probably the best aspect of the night was that I introduced my mom to a group of people, a life if you will, that I adore more than a 2" Jimmy Choo platform. She saw me in a way that was new and fresh. Most of my life, any social activity her and I would share would be within her personal circle. This time I got to show of my own beautiful people to the woman I love more than anything. Immediately following that night my mom complimented me more than I can remember. It's primarily because I was truly loved, out in the open. My friends love me and I them. Her and I left on the wings of The Beatles reverb. Life was beautiful. And rich. I was so grateful for the bonds that had not broken. My hands had literally become wide open. It's as if my palms were breathing. And then I came home.

In the world of social networking both love and war can be sparked. When I came home, it was all about the love. Two days later it was war. A quick succession of failures followed a behind the scenes conversation where I stood up for myself. It was over an innocently flirtatious statement made to a friend. This caused a series of events brought on and affected by people completely unrelated to the statement. It snowballed into a landslide of destruction that was not seen out in the open. Somehow people got hurt. This was never my intention at all.

It is not necessary to go into details because it's not about the who's and what's in this case. The important factor for me is completely selfish. I'm being tested again as to who I am. I have to pull up my big girl panties with fist tightly made and prove myself to someone (or someones) regarding my level of worth, my attitude and my intentions. My Lovelies, I am a single girl with no children and no boss. There is literally (well, almost...I still have parents!) no one I must answer to. I've said this time and again, that I am in a place to speak freely...to blog about everything and anything that could make even myself embarrassed. I don't tear people down for fun nor wish to cause trauma or tribulation in someone else's world. But I have learned another great lesson through this ~ Let people go.

In the quote by Anais Nin, it is suggested that the pain lies in being bound within the tight petals with the only true release being the air in between. I would have to say, I agree. But at a price.

There is another reason I live with fists. Men. Oh here we go! (I heard a hundred sighs.) I love men. I mean I really, really love them. I have a brother and a father. My best friends from high school on have been boys. I was married to one. My MBF is one. There's a whole lot of them floating around. Combine that with my typically female nature, meaning, I want to help fix them and we've got "Girl who runs with fists". I have a well honed skill of knowing where someone is wounded and softly tying on the tourniquet. Though there are immense gifts cast from the ability to smell blood there is one major flaw. The shards of glass.

Anyone who is broken or has been emotionally injured has within them the ability to use sharp words with whomever is in close range, meaning very close range. For whatever reason I have chosen men over women to try and help heal this way. And for that reason it is men who bestow the cutting. When I am open.....when I feel safe and free and loved. When I sense I am doing something good, I unfasten. I breathe, unbuttoned. The rose shows up and her inner petals are exposed. I reach forward and I reach out.

I don't approve of your behavior, Tiffany. One shard of glass laid into my palm. You didn't make me feel special today. You let me down. Another shard of glass for me to bury. You have a lot of nerve acting like this. And you think you're fearless?? Yet another.

By nature of wanting to please I never toss these bits and pieces away from me. Instead I close my fist. Like a poppy I wind into myself tightly when the light goes down. I hold the accusations and the disappointments so tightly that you cannot see me bleed. Instead I work the shattered pieces into my system as if I was pushing them beneath my skin with stealthy force. Like a freshly broken bottle hitting the shore, they take to my blood streams, flowing thru the channels of my worth, seeking comfort in my heart. I have to make it right. I have to make it right. Shards of glass glisten in the light of empathy, being beaten against the love chambers and fear valves, pumping within my body like sand through the hourglass. After time they become worn with edges softened so that I no longer bleed from them. Just a fist remaining as my last tell tale sign of a girl affected.

Towards the end of my 30's I was diagnosed with a disease (which I will share later in The Uglies) that has left me with an enlarged heart. I am a heart inflicted. When the cardiology practitioners would do their Echocardiograms I always wondered if they could see the shrapnel of war torn Tiffany? If they would balk at the fact that my heart was like the ocean, made of salt water and sea glass and that the reason it was large was to hold it all in? No one said anything to those mysteries except for that you can watch it beat through my clothes and that I should "stop that."

I don't want to be this girl anymore. I want to learn to open my hands to everyone without fear of what I must receive. I don't want there to be a penalty so great that I find myself a recluse. My Lovelies, I am taking time off of Facebook and from the blog for a spell. It is time for me to reestablish what it is I stand for and who it is I am becoming as a mature woman. I need to go find peace for awhile as well as seek pleasure. Real pleasure. Gosh, that sounds good, no? I need to take care of my heart. The health of it. It has to last me long enough to get my job done. I am blessed beyond measure. Beyond. I had no idea that my life would be this beautiful. Not a clue. And the people involved in this latest episode of chaos, I love them dearly. Truly. They are very special human beings who don't mean me harm. None the less, it is time for me to take my cue outta here (just for a bit) and have a serious chat with the girl with the clenched fists. It is just a regrouping for I will come back stronger and better than ever. The Uglies have been knocking on the door and it is time to open it once more.

As far as men go, I wont be bowing out of their masculine delights anytime soon. But I will say this. I long for the one. The one who will, finger by finger, open my hand wide and rest his own inside...for good.

In the meantime, stay Fearless and Foxy (FB ladies o'mine, I'm talkin to you!). Speaking of which, Ladies of Facebook ~ You are too good for words. Seriously. I love you more than life itself. Hold down the FF fort. Your girl will return with stuff to knock your socks off (But not your stilettos. By all means, keep those on!)......I'm heading out with a smile on my lips and Chocolate on my tongue and taking to the sky.

Take it Tori! Honest to God, you know everything about me. (If you can't see the video in email, click here)

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