My Scars, My Pain, My God...

When we were about sixteen months old, my twin sister and I had really bad colds.  My Daddy sat a hot water vaporizer on a chair by the bed we were taking a nap on.  I was restless I suppose, and I rolled of the bed and hit the cord on the vaporizer spilling the hot water on myself.  I suffered 3rd degree burns on a great deal of my body.  My gown was actually going into my skin the burns were so deep and the water was so hot. I also suffered burns on my face.

  I was taken to Georgia baptist hospital, where I had some surgeries and my parents were told that they weren't sure I would survive.  I remained there for 3 months.  I had skin grafts done to repair some of the damage to the right side of my chest.  The skin was taken from the inside of my thighs and used to help with healing.   I used a wheelchair for getting around, when I was finally allowed out of  my hospital  room.

The road was long, but I had wonderful Christian parents to take care of me and many prayer warriors in my family, and  so it was God's will that I survived.

What remained were scars on the top of my left arm and forearm and the entire underside of my right arm. There were also scars on the right side of my chest as well as the ones from my skin grafts on my inner thighs.  There were scars on my face, but God was great to me again and the scaring there was very faint.

As time passed, and I healed completely I didn't think of my scars very often.  I played outside with family and no one at church or in our family ever mentioned them to me. That all changed one day when they were brought to my attention in a cruel way.

  I was four years old and it was my first day of Kindergarten.  My twin sister and I had just gotten to school, and in no time a little boy saw my arms and began making fun of me.  I was beyond devastated.  I had never experienced anything like that, nor had I even entertained the thought of it  happening.

I didn't tell the teacher or anyone.  I just slipped off quietly, cried, and hid behind a big wooden easel that was in the area where we were to paint.  I stayed hidden there all day long.  My sister came and talked to me a few times when she could, but otherwise I was alone.  I felt so ashamed.  That little boy had changed my view of myself in that moment, and there was nothing that could undo the damage he had done to my four year old self.  He had also stolen my joy, and the carefree feeling that comes with being so little.  I didn't understand at that time that I was a child of God, and that the scars didn't matter.  I just thought that I had scars and they made me ugly and different.

The bullying continued... for example in second grade I was standing in line, in the lunchroom, and a little boy in my class (I can still remember his name) began to call me "bacon arms".  I wanted the floor to swallow me up.  When he became tired of it, he finished it up with "No one is ever going to marry you."  I went home and cried and cried because in my heart I felt that he was right.

Third grade came and with it, no difference.  A boy in my class that year began rubbing his ink pen back and forth on his desk top very fast to heat it up, and then sticking the pen to the scar on my left arm until it began to bleed.  I said nothing.  My sister noticed what he had done, punched him in the nose, and then he was the one bleeding.  We all wound up in the office. Out of all of that, all I felt was humiliation and guilt.  Guilt that it was all my fault for having the scars in the first place.  I felt so bad that my sister was in trouble (Not at home), and the fact that everyone knew what he'd been doing to me was the humiliating factor.  In my mind it just brought way to much attention to my scars.

High school came and I was dating age.   I had a crush on what I considered the cutest guy ever to walk the face of the Earth.  This was perfectly normal for my age, and all of my friends were talking to me about their crushes, but I never said a word.  I knew no one would ever want to go out with me least of all the guy I had the crush on, so I just listened to them and kept my secret.

God was good to me and that very boy asked me out and we dated for quite awhile.  I was in Heaven and couldn't believe he wanted to be with me of all people.  I knew so many other girls that wanted to go out with him.  He eventually broke up with me and I was heart broken, but thankful that God had given me that one season of happiness.

Against that second grade boys prediction, three years after my first boyfriend and I broke up  I married a very handsome man and had 2 beautiful children.

All through the years I wore long sleeves as often as I could to avoid as many questions and comments about my arms as possible.  I began a job as a substitute teacher when my son (my baby) was of school age, so as not to miss time with him.  I broke out the cardigan sweaters to cover my arms and I began subbing at the elementary school he attended.  It worked perfectly as far as being home when my children were home.

 A permanent position came open after I had been working there for about 2 years.  I applied and did not get the job.  I was heart broken because the administration had been so good to me.  They even let me choose, each day, which classroom I wanted out of the ones that were available for that day.

I left there really upset and drove right to the High school and gave them my card and my employee number.  They called me the next morning and so it began. I was placed in a special education classroom and I loved it!  The students were all so wonderful and so positive.  They were a blessing in my life.  A permanent position came open there in the Special Education Department and two of the administrators came to the classroom where I was working and offered me the job.

I accepted their offer.  A few years went by, and one day one of my students came up to me while we were in the gym and he was crying.  He said that he was being made fun of, and that he knew he was different and never going to have a girlfriend or anything like that.  It broke my heart.  I asked another teacher to watch my students and I went back to our classroom with him.  I talked to him about how wrong he was and how wonderful he was.

The fact that he was saying the same thing about himself that my classmate in 2nd grade had said about me really resonated with me.  The rest of the class came back from the gym and as they were being seated it dawned on me.  God had brought me here to this room to these children because he was turning my storm into something good.  I knew in that moment what I had to do.

I asked them all to listen to me, and I said that I had to talk to them about something very important.  At that point I said "I'm going to share something with all of you that I have tried my best to hide for at least 30 years.  I removed my cardigan sweater standing right in front of the class and I showed them my scars.  I said I was burned really badly as a small child and I am telling you all this so that when you come to me and tell me that you are not feeling good about yourself for one reason or another and I tell you that I totally understand you will know that I mean what I say.

I told them about my being bullied and picked on and made fun of during my school years and about people coming up to me and saying things like "Oh my God what happened to your arms?".  I told them that they were all beautifully and wonderfully made, and that they were blessings to me and to so many others because we were able to watch them shine and embrace life.  I also told them that people who pick on other people are hurting and in return hurt others.  Most of all I tried to express that they should love themselves as they are, and not waste years, like I had done, living in the shadow of myself.

They were listening so intently.  I apologized for trying to hide my scars, and I told them that unless it was actually so cold in the room that I couldn't stand it, I wouldn't be covering up my arms anymore.  I felt so free.  It was wonderful.  For the first time in my life I didn't care what anyone said.

You see, I knew in that very moment, that God had turned my storm into something good.  The reason I didn't get the job at the elementary school had nothing at all to do with man.  It was simply not the plan that God had for my life.  God knew that I belonged at that high school with those special need students.  He knew that I would not only love and care for them like they were my own, but that I would understand their pain, protect them, and show them that they are going to be okay because they are perfect in their own right.

I thank you God for the blessing of working with these children for so many years.   I praise you for knowing where I belonged, and for the healing that placing me there gave me.  Those students enriched my life in so many ways.  Far to many to list.  I just pray that having me in their lives touched them in a way they will always remember.

God is amazing.....Trust me, I know...

Romans 8:28 King James Version (KJV)

28 And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.

Burglary/Birthday Suit Debacle

     Let me begin by saying that as a teenager I loved to lay out in the sun during Spring and Summer. By in the sun I mean, full sun, partial sun, whatever was was overhead that day, count me and my lounge chair in.  The result at the beginning of the season each year would be a slight sunburn.

 One night, having such a burn, I decided the most comfortable sleepwear would be my birthday suit.  My twin sister and little sister, being much more modest than I was, thought I had lost my mind. Since they didn't share my bed, I didn't let their opinions stop me.  I took it right on down to my birthday suit and I was asleep in no time.   

When I woke up the next morning I declared to my twin sister how great I had slept and proceeded to try and convince her to join me.  Like I said she was very modest but after much insistence from me, and a small meltdown, she decided she'd give it a try.  The next morning when we woke up, I looked over at her in her bed and I said "Well?"  She said she had also found it very comfortable.  I said, "You're welcome.", and so began our summer of what I just knew was going to be blissful sleep....

Fast forward a few weeks to the night when I realized that my ideas at the age of 16 weren't always the brightest ones...One of Satan's foot soldiers had come to steal my bliss.

I was asleep,  in nothing but the birthday suit, when I suddenly heard my twin sister say "Arlene." She was low talking.  It was almost a whisper.  She said it again, followed by some very alarming words.

"Arlene, Do not scream and do not turn on the light. Someone is breaking in the window.  I can see his shadow."  I looked at the window and Dear God she wasn't lying.  My heart began to hammer and all I could think was I have got to get to my Daddy.   I grabbed my sheet while simultaneously rolling of the bed and wrapping myself  in said sheet as I went.   I arrived on the floor wearing a pink toga.   The next step was to hit my elbows and knees and start crawling...

I made it across the hall to Mom and Dad's bedroom looking like a foot  soldier under attack.  So there I was in my sheet, my curly hair going crazy trying to get my Daddy's attention without scaring off the man in the window. "Daddy, Daddy."  I repeated.....he jumped up and looked around, but he couldn't find me.

I said a bit louder..."Daddy I'm down here and someone is coming in our window!"  He jumped up off the bed and came around to his closet to get his gun and that's when he saw me.  He gave me an I'll revisit this bunch of crazy after I handle whatever's going on outside look.  He got the gun and went outside while my Mom called the police.

When the police had come and gone, and the man had gotten away, my Daddy came back inside.  I was standing in the kitchen, still wearing my toga and making a cup of coffee.  I braced myself for a lecture that never came.

My Daddy just looked at me, wearing his serious face, and he said "Sugar, that's why you need to sleep with some clothes on.  Daddy loves you.  Go and get some sleep."  

I had never loved him more.  He had saved me and been sweet about my crazy even though he didn't understand it.  I ditched the coffee Idea and headed back to my room.  I put a gown on and got in bed, and with my Daddy's protection the sleep I got was much better than a birthday suit could ever provide.

I love you Daddy....Always my Hero

Plump It Up!

     I have been aware that women get lip injections and other procedures to have fuller lips for quite some time.   I have never personally felt the need to look into this for myself.  I have always been satisfied with the ones God gave me, but then some lip guru  that was on T.V. informed me that your top lip is basically stolen from you by gravity as you age.  I was devastated by this news.  I mean seriously?? My top lip is going to fall down.  As a child I had to worry about the London Bridge and now this!!

     I raced to the bathroom mirror for an immediate self-examination.  After said examination I decided that if I had any change in my lip it was slight.  At this point I knew I needed to be proactive.  I couldn't just sit around waiting on my top lip to collapse.

     My plan of action began with research.   Coffee in hand, I went and sat down in front of my laptop.  I typed lip augmentation into my search bar which yielded several results all of which included needles. I'm not a fan of needles.   I kept reading and hoping...Nothing...so I narrowed my search to non invasive lip enhancement...

     On this new list of suggestions was some form of a plastic device that you put over your lips an it acts as a suction and causes what looked to be pretty severe swelling of the lips.  Not wanting to walk around looking as if I was having an allergic reaction to something, or had duck mouth,  I kept reading...

     Finally I found it.  Something I could get on board with.  Lip Plumper.  Best news ever, there are no needles!! What I read said that lip plumper contains some form of slight irritant that causes minimal swelling, and they come in the form of lip gloss with a choice of  shades!! I had my answer.

     My next big move was to search for the best lip plumper.  I found several websites that proclaimed their product to be the best, but for some reason wasn't satisfied and kept reading. Down the list just a bit further I found it!!  "Extreme" lip plumper.  Let me just say that I couldn't get my credit card out of my purse fast enough. I placed my order and the wait began.

     It arrived a few days later and back to the bathroom mirror I went for a trial run. I glossed up.  Then.....the burn!!  It lit me up!! My lips felt like I had coated them in the  juice straight out of a cayenne pepper.  I began to think over and over again don't lick your lips.   You'll burn every taste bud you have right off your tongue.

     When the tears that had pooled in my eyes cleared and the burning began to subside  I looked  in the mirror again  I could tell that it worked and that the look was subtle.

    What do you think I did then?  I did what I had to do.  I went right back to my laptop and ordered two more tubes.  I just can't walk around with my lip falling down.  Beauty can mean pain.

     I realize this isn't for everyone but if you find yourself in my shoes ladies just remember..no  guts, no glory and plump it up...

 










   

Small Town He Said She Said...Sugar They Love To Talk....

Most of my life has been spent in communities where people are all friendly and everyone seems to know most everyone.  This was even true in Atlanta when I was a little girl and I always thought that sense of friendliness felt good....I always felt this same sense of closeness with most of my co-workers...

Then I grew up and learned that everything and everyone are not always what they seem...There are exceptions to this but they are very few....

As a little girl I had no idea that sometimes friendly concern is merely the adult way of wanting to know all about someone's business.  I also had no idea that people that call themselves your friends could turn on you so quickly or that you could suddenly become the center of attention without warning ...but trust me when I tell you ..You most certainly can..

Let me just say that A few years ago I did something that many people quickly judged me for, and judged me harshly.  I have always tried my best to be a kind, caring, and an overall good person. That being said none of these people knew my entire life story which was absolutely relevant to the issue, but very private so I felt no desire to share it with everyone.

Let me also add that I broke no laws...You would think by the reactions of people that I belonged on death row, but like I said, no laws were broken.

The what in this is not important..it is the result of the what that I'm sharing with you now...because to me ...at least at first..it mattered and it hurt....People love to talk and talk they did.

There were people in town giving me looks and I heard rumors about myself that I couldn't even believe...I mean the teller at my bank even came out the front door to give me a look while my husband was inside doing business....Amazing! Right?

I walked into a shop where two teenage girls were working and my husband was with me.  Very loudly one looks at the other one and says "Look, it's her!"  Her cohort then replied "Who?" to which her friends response was "HER!" This was met with "Ooooooh".  "What's her name?"  answered , of course, with "Mrs. Foster."

I just jabbed my husband right in the ribs with my elbow and said , very loudly, "Honey, did you hear that?  I'm famous!"

A former co-worker even sang, loudly and while grinning, a song (he was being sarcastic) to me in a local grocery store parking lot recently...Wow right?

A few Facebook "friends" quickly deleted me because God forbid they have someone of my caliber on their friends list.  They made snap judgments knowing nothing about my life and "delete"... It was hurtful and then  at the same time very enlightening.  I learned so much about people.  The main lesson being that people disappoint you.

When this all started it only took a few incidents such as the ones above before I reached the point of a complete come apart. ...I couldn't believe it was all happening.

Then I realized that all I could do was just brush the dirt off and move on.  They gave me an opportunity to learn and grow.   I have begun to understand that when this happens it says much more about who they are than it does about who you are.

Needless to say I'm over it now, but I'm writing this to let you in on a little secret....The ones that talk about you, and judge you know the least about you...The ones that wouldn't know truth if it bit them square in the rear end.. as it turns out... they aren't important in your life or to your happiness....

The ones who stepped out of my life did me a favor really, because now I know who they are....You know the old saying..When someone shows you who they are, believe them.

During everyone's life things happen, and I understand that.  I've never  been one to judge people but many many people feel evidently as if it's their job.  I am also writing this to let those people know that the whole judging thing is God's job.

Silence Is Golden...Well Maybe Not Always..

So my husband and I probably fuss pretty regularly, and for two people that have lived together for as long as we have I figure that's pretty normal.  I mean living with anyone for a long time will cause some nerves to be worked now and then. Right?

That being said, we had one the other day, that in retrospect, I have to laugh at.  Needless to say, it was all his fault.

I came walking down the hallway into the den, completely minding my own business.  He looks at me, as I'm walking by, and he says "Why are you ill?  I  paused to process what he had said, and to ask myself if I had heard him correctly.  Deciding that I had, I replied with "I'm not ill.".

His next statement was "Yes you are.  I can tell.".  Well considering I hadn't opened my mouth,  I found myself thinking, Well John Edwards dig deeper into your prophetic talents, and see what my problem is, because I've got nothing.  Trying not to let this turn into a big deal, I responded instead with I haven't even spoken to you.

Not willing to give it up he replies "Yes you did.".  Deciding that he had completely lost it , I kept the line moving and headed on into the kitchen .  I needed Java.  I was just going to let him have that little bit.

What does he do next? He followed me.  I'm standing at the counter in front of the cabinet, and he walks up with an attitude and says "Could you please hand me the Pop Tarts/"

Well now I'm getting mad at all of this unwarranted negativity he's giving me, and so I reach inside
the cabinet and I slam the Pop Tart box down on the counter.  He doesn't say a word he just gets one out and goes back in the den.

Now it's my turn.   After a few minutes pass I decide I can't let it go.  I looked at him from the kitchen and I said "what is your problem this morning?".

His response:  "Don't talk to me."  Well I have to tell you this  middle school reply cracked me up.
I said you must be joking.  He said "Don't talk to me anymore today! I'm done with you!"

I said seriously??? You have created all of this in your rabid little mind and now you aren't talking to me and you have no reason.  What is wrong with you?

That's when he shouted "You broke my Pop Tarts."  I immediately thought dear God, I have married a man with the I.Q. of a toddler.

I looked at him, and after a hard pause, I said "Well what fresh Hell is this that has you eating broken Pop Tarts.  I mean,  your life may as well end now if the rest of your days are going to be as bad as this one.  Lord I thought the economy being in the tank was bad, but bless your heart, I had no idea your Pop Tarts were broken."

I think at this point he knew, on some level, that he was acting like a two year old, but he was to far in.  There was no turning back.  His ego just wouldn't have it.

And so the day rocked on, and the silence resonated throughout the house.  Fast forward to about 8 p.m., and he suddenly walks up to me and says "I'm sorry, I overreacted this morning."  Well now you know my sarcastic self couldn't stop my immediate thought, which was...Overreacted?  You made that obnoxious girl who turned blue in Willy Wonka And The Chocolate Factory look like a saint.

Instead of expressing my actual thoughts, and risking round two, I just said "That's fine, but I do have to tell you that if you act this way again tomorrow, I will be forced to take away your recess."  He just chuckled, and I said "No.  Seriously!   Ain't nobody got time for another scene  like we had today.  It was about like one out of War Of The Roses, and  over a broken Pop Tart....No child. No....

Fifteen, Legal, And Dangerous...Ready, Set, Drive

When I was fifteen years old I wasn't like most teenagers.  I didn't care one whit about learning to drive a car.  However, my identical twin sister did, and all of our young lives if one did something the other did it too, so off to the DMV we went to obtain our learners permits.

I have to tell you, it was a circus from the start, as far as my story goes.  We walked up to the counter with my Mom, and she produced our birth certificates and whatever else was required at the time, and the uptight looking lady behind the counter gave us a little white card to fill out and pointed each of us in the direction of an electronic machine where we were suppose to take our test.

My sister went to her machine, filled out her card, tested, passed, picture made, no problem.  I  on the other hand was a cluster.

 It started when I began to fill out the little white card.  I am left handed and so as I was filling in the blanks I caught out of my peripheral vision the pictures changing in the monitor that displayed the test.  As it turns out I was answering questions with my left forearm as I wrote.  Oh yeah...

After a mini freak out in which I was trying to determine what to do, I decided to approach Ms. Uptight and explain the situation.  You guessed it.  She was not to be swayed by my explanation but agreed to check the machine and see if  my forearm had exceeded the amount of questions you were allowed to get wrong and still  pass the test. I think the number that you were allowed to miss was three.

The evidence showed that my left forearm lacks intelligence as far as the rules of the road go and so Ms. Uptight, no gray area, informed me that she had no choice but to fail me.  She then stated that I could return and try again the following day. Thanks for that.

When we were back in the car with my Mom, she said don't worry, we'll come back tomorrow.  I said I'm not worried I don't care. My mom had different ideas and said that she wanted me to have my permit in case I changed my mind once I saw my sister learning to drive, and so the next day we made a return visit.

This time I managed to keep my forearm in check and I passed the test no problem...I was legal to get behind the wheel of a car...Let the lessons begin.

That evening my Mother got into the car with my sister and I for lesson one. My sister was the first one to drive.  She totally nailed it.  Her ability to drive gave my mother a false sense of security, bless her heart.  She had no clue just how much our abilities could differ.  She was soon enlightened.

My sister stopped the car and I ran around and jumped in the drivers seat.  I began by putting the car in gear and "punching" (I believe that was the word my mother used) the gas. I was oblivious to the fact that my twin hadn't even gotten her door shut yet until my mother yelled "You almost slung your sister out in street.! Arlene you have to wait until all of your passengers have their  doors shut and their seat belts on before you start driving."  I said yes ma'am and continued down the road.

The next "great" move occurred when I made a right turn.  I turned the car so smoothly and straightened it up nicely, and then asked my mom how I had done.  She looked at me, and in her very serious voice said "That was perfect honey. If we were in England!!" I was confused for a moment, but my twin was more than happy to bring me up to speed,  she announced between her bursts of laughter that I was on the wrong side of the road.

I rectified that situation as quickly as I could and then we were rolling along again.  I was doing much better until my mother asked me what the letters stood for by the gear changer knob thing.  She, of course, advised me to keep my eyes on the road and then She began the quiz.

 She said "What's the P stand for?"  I said park or stop or whatever.  She said yes park.  "Now what about the N?"  I said I'm not sure."  She said "it's Neutral Arlene, you can't go anywhere in neutral".  I thought to myself that neutral sounded a lot like park but I kept my mouth shut and then she asked the final question.  "What about the S?"  Well I felt very confident about this one and just knew I was going to wow her with my answer when I said "Oh!! That's for Sideways."

In that moment my mother looked at me like I had lost my mind, and I knew she needed further explanation when she said "Sideways???"  With a questioning look on her face.  Well wanting to clue her in,  I said "You know Mother it's for like when you are on the interstate and you want to change lanes.  You just put the car in sideways and you get over."

I wasn't expecting her response.  She said simply "Arlene, Stop the car."   I asked her why and she said "Just stop the car and I'll explain it all to you when we get home."  She took over the driver's seat and we returned home immediately.

When we entered the house my sister was laughing so hard I believe there were tears, and my mother was totally distraught.  She was trying to explain to my Dad what she had just experienced and when he was finally able to wrap his mind around what all I had done and said during my "lesson".  I heard my mother say she is just dangerous!  My Daddy with his sweet self said "It's okay sugar.  You're just not ready yet."

My mom recovered and I did get my drivers license at sixteen with only one mistake during my test, which was a grand improvement.  I drove the entire test with the emergency brake on.  My sister had gone first and passed so there might have been some sympathy from the poor guy giving me the test, but I can't be sure,  I mean if he didn't see the big red light on I feel sure he could smell it! Lord knows I could.   I have decided, however, that since I have no proof,  I'm going to claim that I was issued a license on pure skill.

I didn't drive very much at first.  I sort of eased into it a little bit at a time, but I feel okay about that now.  I mean sixteen is mighty young to be behind the wheel of a car, and how in the world do they expect you to know all of that.  The drivers test says nothing about which side of the road to be on or what those letters stand for.  They really should have included that in the study Manuel.

Seriously, my mind was probably all clogged up with more important issues like what I was going to wear to the high school football game that Friday night..or the boy I had a crush on at the time...
A girl has to prioritize...

Age Like A Boss

First and foremost let me say that even though I'm getting a little "long in the tooth" I am very grateful for my days..... So I'm not here to complain about aging...

However....I'm at the age where I do require a little extra maintenance, but I'm no where near ready for the "stretch pant, matching blouse, moo moo"  grandmother look, Even though I am the proud grandmother of two, I have zero intention of ever rocking one of those choices...Can't see it happening...

 I've said all of this to say attention all ladies 50ish in age...get the artillery out.
Artillery: (n) 1. Lotions, creams, concealers, lip plumper, perfume, makeup, moisturizing hair care products, along with  Mani/Pedi's and waxing ...

There is absolutely no shame in all of this..I mean have you seen some of the pictures of models without their makeup...I'm just saying everyone needs a little help..

Very important tip...keep your roots touched up and your hair moisturized!! Silver dry hair is not a youthful look... The silver can look good on some women who are ready to own their number ,, but me?  I'm not quite there yet...

 keep the clothes age appropriate and classy...More on this shortly...

Lotions and creams are vital to your skin.  The older you get the more thirsty your skin, or so I've been told.  Do they work? You might be asking...well Lord... I have no idea, but I will confess to owning just about every one known to man and the bottom line is taking care of yourself feels good and if you feel good you look good...so slather up!

Concealers are another necessity, because we all know that our skin tone hasn't remained as even as we might like, so cover it up girl...cover it up!!

Our top lips seem to become a bit slimmer as we age ladies, so lip plumper will swell them right on up...Dior addict Lip Maximizer is a favorite of mine..Top it off with a nude lipstick or red if you have your sassy pants on, and all is well.

Please keep your nails done...it's a must.  Everyone notices your fingernails..I promise you, and the pedicure is just as important.. believe me men notice.  No one wants to get in bed with feet that look like they've been kicking rocks barefooted....FYI... Red is a favorite.

On to the waxing....keep those eyebrows shaped up...yes the wax can be over warmed at times but it's only for a second and then it's rip and done....wax all other areas that are OOC...(out of control)..Lastly shave those legs...daily...Don't be that woman in the dead of winter time that looks like she's just came from the brush....I'm mean seriously...not a good look.

Wear perfume that suits your mood.  Myself, I have a plethora of fragrances because I love it...I look on the dresser in my room each morning and I just know which one I want to wear...It just comes to me.  I personally believe a man likes a woman that smells nice, but even without the man you should smell nice for you!! Again...people notice.

Now the wardrobe...we've all seen them..the older women walking around in short skirts, short shorts, bellies exposed, Ta Ta's popping out, of a crop top..let me just say to them now...Make it stop!! Dear Lord please take yourselves to the mall and buy a nice shift dress in a solid color and put some pearls and matching pumps on,.You are killing me!!

Back to the clothes...A classy look can be very sexy..so much better than a woman our age that thinks she rocking a mini skirt and heavy makeup, but in actuality When she turns around she looks more like her fairy godmother went all Bibbiti Bobbiti Boo on her age, and the clock has definitely struck midnight and all that remains are the clothes...We don't want to be that woman...trust me...it's simply tragic...

All this being said...go out ladies and find your sexy self and take care of her as long as there is breath in your body, or til Jesus comes...you are worth it!!

If you are married, he Should appreciate it, if not do it for you...



My love to you all!!