Anyone who knows me is aware that I am no fashion plate. My favorite attire is jeans and a t-shirt. I’m all about wash-n-wear, baby.
In spite of my unfashionable tendencies, I make an effort to at least look like I tried a little. You know, harmonious colors or patterns; I don’t put purple polka dots with orange plaid. When my kids were little I let them dress themselves, but I did nudge them toward matching socks.
So where did I go wrong?
Last evening my 15-year-old daughter, Christina, was on a mission to find green fingernail polish. Hubby and I agreed to drive her to the store and she came downstairs wearing a tank top of eye-popping teal, shamrock green basketball shorts, flip-flops the color of dirty dishwater, and a black and white striped headband. When I managed to peel my eyes away I swear my corneas were on fire.
“What?” She asked.
“Please,” begged her dad. “Go change…something.”
A back-and-forth conversation ensued regarding individualism and personal expression. In the end she stomped upstairs to do her father’s bidding while we waited in the car. When she climbed into the back seat I was hard pressed to see what was different.
“I switched out my flip-flops,” she grinned. “Daddy said to change something. I changed something.”
Her flip-flops were, indeed, now blue. No one would mistake them for matching the rest of her ensemble, but she had done as requested: she changed something.
“You always tell me,” she pointed out, “that I should be true to myself and that it doesn’t matter what other people think. So why do my clothes have to match? I’m comfy. And it isn’t like I would wear this to school.”
I gave it considerable thought and decided that she made a good point. She was just running to the drugstore for glow-in-the-dark snot-green fingernail polish, so why dress to impress? And you know what? Wildflowers don’t always match, either; but by golly, they are a sight to see.
And last night…so was Christina.
Til next time,
Lisa
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Unisex URLs
Well, our big double birthday weekend flew by. With it came a lot of calories and, unfortunately, they did not vamoose with the weekend. I still have the remnants of cheesecake and cookie cake waiting to be consumed or pitched. Pitched. Yeah, right.
I decided to Google for online tips to curb my desire to munch. There are, of course, ooh-gobs of sites that offer advice. Nothing popped that will end my love affair with cheesecake, but I did come across an article at health.com, "Hungry? Men's Brains Fight Urge to Eat Better than Women's" that held my interest even as I rolled my eyes. Did you know that research has determined that a woman’s monthly cycle influences her brain’s responses to food? Someone had to do a study to figure that out? Are they kidding?
Furthermore, researchers did a brain scan of both men and women and discovered that if they flashed yummy stuff to eat along with the directive to tamp down the hunger that “…only the men showed a drop in activity in brain regions involved in emotion and motivation.”
I could comment here, but some things are just too easy. I’ll let Tina Fey have that one.
Anyway, as it turns out, this site has lots of goodies for both men and women. It prompted me to add a new set of links to my sidebar: Unisex URLs.
I need to run. There is a piece of cheesecake in my fridge, and it is in perfect harmony with my brainwaves. Sounds like fat...er, fate...to me.
Til next time,
Lisa
I decided to Google for online tips to curb my desire to munch. There are, of course, ooh-gobs of sites that offer advice. Nothing popped that will end my love affair with cheesecake, but I did come across an article at health.com, "Hungry? Men's Brains Fight Urge to Eat Better than Women's" that held my interest even as I rolled my eyes. Did you know that research has determined that a woman’s monthly cycle influences her brain’s responses to food? Someone had to do a study to figure that out? Are they kidding?
Furthermore, researchers did a brain scan of both men and women and discovered that if they flashed yummy stuff to eat along with the directive to tamp down the hunger that “…only the men showed a drop in activity in brain regions involved in emotion and motivation.”
I could comment here, but some things are just too easy. I’ll let Tina Fey have that one.
Anyway, as it turns out, this site has lots of goodies for both men and women. It prompted me to add a new set of links to my sidebar: Unisex URLs.
I need to run. There is a piece of cheesecake in my fridge, and it is in perfect harmony with my brainwaves. Sounds like fat...er, fate...to me.
Til next time,
Lisa
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Tales of Time
We have a big birthday weekend coming up. My daughter, Stephanie, will be 22 on Friday, and my hubby will be 51 on Saturday. Stephanie is meeting a group of friends to party the night away. Joe wants to pretend he does not have a birthday at all (yeah, fat chance--like I’m going to pass up the opportunity for cake.)
The thing is, as we age, our priorities shift. Time and how we spend it is more profound after 40. Take exercise, for example. I can’t speak for anyone else, but when I was in my twenties exercise was 90 minutes of hard aerobics and weightlifting (where in the blazes did I ever find 90 minutes to exercise?) In my thirties it was jogging (30 minutes, tops.) At 48, exercise requires multi-tasking: I take the dogs for a walk at the park and watch them frolic with other dogs. I do visit the treadmill once in a while, but you know, if it really wanted to hold my attention it would offer me hot coffee and a honey bun.
Another casualty of the years: makeup. I wear a lot less now, but back in the day just applying lipstick was a major event. I used to line my lips, apply lipstick, blot, powder, and apply a final coat. That stuff would stay on through a nuclear holocaust. When my youngest daughter was born the delivery room nurses were astounded that I made it through labor and delivery with my lipstick still magazine perfect. Fifteen years have passed and I’m lucky now if I even remember to apply tinted lip balm before I rush out the door.
What sorts of things have changed for you? What things do you do differently now that you are older? If you could go back in years would you spend more or less time on your lipstick, exercise, or partying? Leave me a comment if you have the time. I’d love to know how your views have shape-shifted with age and wisdom.
As to our upcoming birthday weekend, I say: Let them eat cake! That's what I'm gonna do.
Til next time,
Lisa
The thing is, as we age, our priorities shift. Time and how we spend it is more profound after 40. Take exercise, for example. I can’t speak for anyone else, but when I was in my twenties exercise was 90 minutes of hard aerobics and weightlifting (where in the blazes did I ever find 90 minutes to exercise?) In my thirties it was jogging (30 minutes, tops.) At 48, exercise requires multi-tasking: I take the dogs for a walk at the park and watch them frolic with other dogs. I do visit the treadmill once in a while, but you know, if it really wanted to hold my attention it would offer me hot coffee and a honey bun.
Another casualty of the years: makeup. I wear a lot less now, but back in the day just applying lipstick was a major event. I used to line my lips, apply lipstick, blot, powder, and apply a final coat. That stuff would stay on through a nuclear holocaust. When my youngest daughter was born the delivery room nurses were astounded that I made it through labor and delivery with my lipstick still magazine perfect. Fifteen years have passed and I’m lucky now if I even remember to apply tinted lip balm before I rush out the door.
What sorts of things have changed for you? What things do you do differently now that you are older? If you could go back in years would you spend more or less time on your lipstick, exercise, or partying? Leave me a comment if you have the time. I’d love to know how your views have shape-shifted with age and wisdom.
As to our upcoming birthday weekend, I say: Let them eat cake! That's what I'm gonna do.
Til next time,
Lisa
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Priceless
My hubby and I spent the day cleaning out the attic. It was an arduous task, punctuated by the added insult of having to haul every yard-sale-worthy item down three flights of stairs and into the garage. With every dang-blasted step I mumbled, “This will firm up my butt,” over and over like a religious mantra. So far no buns of steel. Maybe they just need time to set.
In spite of all the stuff we are shedding, the attic remains full of things we never use but can’t seem to part with. Not counting the sentimental things like my wedding gown, photo albums, and high school yearbooks, we catalogued cowboy hats, Mexican sombreros, a French maid costume (for the love of God, do not ask…) old artwork, knick-knacks, and the cushion for a papasan chair we no longer own.
We counted twelve—yes, twelve—large boxes filled to near bursting with stuffed animals, the detritus of Christmas/Easter/Valentine’s presents past. These we managed to whittle down to one box of sentimental stuffers to be safeguarded, which included my own beloved bear named Teddy (I was such a creative child,) a gift from Santa when I was nine. The rest were divided into two groups, the “like new” pile, suitable for donation; and the “hazmat suit required; discard at once” pile.
Anyway, I’m thrilled that we opened up space in the attic, the better to store more stuff that we do not need but cannot jettison. We might need it later. I mean, take the sombreros, cowboy hats, and French maid costume—who knows when these things might be required to extricate us from a life and death situation? Or better still, might be used to embarrass our teenaged daughter (“OMG! You are so not wearing that to the mall, are you?”) That, my friends, makes them priceless.
You know, some things are just worth saving.
Til next time,
Lisa
In spite of all the stuff we are shedding, the attic remains full of things we never use but can’t seem to part with. Not counting the sentimental things like my wedding gown, photo albums, and high school yearbooks, we catalogued cowboy hats, Mexican sombreros, a French maid costume (for the love of God, do not ask…) old artwork, knick-knacks, and the cushion for a papasan chair we no longer own.
We counted twelve—yes, twelve—large boxes filled to near bursting with stuffed animals, the detritus of Christmas/Easter/Valentine’s presents past. These we managed to whittle down to one box of sentimental stuffers to be safeguarded, which included my own beloved bear named Teddy (I was such a creative child,) a gift from Santa when I was nine. The rest were divided into two groups, the “like new” pile, suitable for donation; and the “hazmat suit required; discard at once” pile.
Anyway, I’m thrilled that we opened up space in the attic, the better to store more stuff that we do not need but cannot jettison. We might need it later. I mean, take the sombreros, cowboy hats, and French maid costume—who knows when these things might be required to extricate us from a life and death situation? Or better still, might be used to embarrass our teenaged daughter (“OMG! You are so not wearing that to the mall, are you?”) That, my friends, makes them priceless.
You know, some things are just worth saving.
Til next time,
Lisa
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Studly Sites for Sirs
Sit down. Take a breath. This is a shocking revelation: I have been accused by a male reader of writing a sexist blog. (Gasp!)
As you can imagine, I was horrified. How could anyone accuse me of being sexist? Me--a Peanut M&M eating, pun loving, dog adoring, Southern-belle-by-migration, lady of the 21st century—really? Me? Sexist?
Well…actually…yeah. I reviewed my blog with a critical eye and realized that there is more estrogen here than testosterone, and it has nothing to do with middle-aged hormone replacement.
To correct this heinous oversight, I’ve added a category on the side bar: Studly Sites for Sirs. Masculine, yet serviceable. And the best part is that while the links are for men’s sites, they are also interesting to women. Honest.
At first glance, these sites are mostly about chest beating (i.e. competition in sports, at the office, at home, etc.) and sex, two things that guys like best, and not necessarily in that order. But ladies, take a second look. Useful info abounds—stuff like how to know when you are suffering a heart attack, how to cut calories and still eat like a bear just out of hibernation, best weekend getaways, how to cook salmon in a dishwasher (I’m not making that up) and—just stay with me here—how to make your woman purr with contentment. Not a bad deal, right? I like to purr, don’t you? I mean, I can roar and nag when I have to, but purring is a good thing, too. You know I’m right.
So check out my Studly Sites for Sirs. The men will find all kinds of interesting guy stuff, and the ladies will learn a lot about what their men read when they’re hiding out in the bathroom. It’s a win-win.
Hey, no need to thank me. This is an equal opportunity-to-purr blog.
Til next time –
Lisa
As you can imagine, I was horrified. How could anyone accuse me of being sexist? Me--a Peanut M&M eating, pun loving, dog adoring, Southern-belle-by-migration, lady of the 21st century—really? Me? Sexist?
Well…actually…yeah. I reviewed my blog with a critical eye and realized that there is more estrogen here than testosterone, and it has nothing to do with middle-aged hormone replacement.
To correct this heinous oversight, I’ve added a category on the side bar: Studly Sites for Sirs. Masculine, yet serviceable. And the best part is that while the links are for men’s sites, they are also interesting to women. Honest.
At first glance, these sites are mostly about chest beating (i.e. competition in sports, at the office, at home, etc.) and sex, two things that guys like best, and not necessarily in that order. But ladies, take a second look. Useful info abounds—stuff like how to know when you are suffering a heart attack, how to cut calories and still eat like a bear just out of hibernation, best weekend getaways, how to cook salmon in a dishwasher (I’m not making that up) and—just stay with me here—how to make your woman purr with contentment. Not a bad deal, right? I like to purr, don’t you? I mean, I can roar and nag when I have to, but purring is a good thing, too. You know I’m right.
So check out my Studly Sites for Sirs. The men will find all kinds of interesting guy stuff, and the ladies will learn a lot about what their men read when they’re hiding out in the bathroom. It’s a win-win.
Hey, no need to thank me. This is an equal opportunity-to-purr blog.
Til next time –
Lisa
Sunday, April 12, 2009
I'm a Fibber!
April is national poetry month, and as a writer I believe it should be celebrated. I feel the same way about Easter, so it seemed reasonable to put the two together. Unfortunately, I am not a great poet. Since humor is the main ingredient in my bag of tricks I tend more toward limericks than anything else. Behold:
There once was a bunny named Cass
Who hid Easter eggs in the grass
She knew they were bound
To some day be found,
Except for the one up her.....dress.
(Expecting something else?)
Maybe I should set humor aside for today. The limerick is a fine way to pay homage to the Easter bunny and DayGlo eggs, but Easter as a religious holiday deserves to be treated with more respect.
As I do celebrate Easter's deeper meaning, I have looked to a style of poetry that is based on a mathmatical, numeric sequence found in nature and is called the Fibonacci Sequence. This was referenced in the movie The Davinci Code. A "Fib" is comprised of six lines and confined to twenty syllables. The syllable per line count follows this sequence: 1/1/2/3/5/8. "Fibbing," similar in form to haiku, is becoming popular. I felt up to the challenge and offer now my first official "Fib," intended to celebrate Easter through poetry with no wayward bunnies or colored eggs to be found in the grass or anywhere else.
The
One.
In love
with mankind;
eternity sings
His sacrifice on angel wings.
I wish everyone a blessed Easter, and that's no fib.
God bless -
Lisa
There once was a bunny named Cass
Who hid Easter eggs in the grass
She knew they were bound
To some day be found,
Except for the one up her.....dress.
(Expecting something else?)
Maybe I should set humor aside for today. The limerick is a fine way to pay homage to the Easter bunny and DayGlo eggs, but Easter as a religious holiday deserves to be treated with more respect.
As I do celebrate Easter's deeper meaning, I have looked to a style of poetry that is based on a mathmatical, numeric sequence found in nature and is called the Fibonacci Sequence. This was referenced in the movie The Davinci Code. A "Fib" is comprised of six lines and confined to twenty syllables. The syllable per line count follows this sequence: 1/1/2/3/5/8. "Fibbing," similar in form to haiku, is becoming popular. I felt up to the challenge and offer now my first official "Fib," intended to celebrate Easter through poetry with no wayward bunnies or colored eggs to be found in the grass or anywhere else.
The
One.
In love
with mankind;
eternity sings
His sacrifice on angel wings.
I wish everyone a blessed Easter, and that's no fib.
God bless -
Lisa
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Merry Misnomers
My hubby, Joe, came home the other day itching to share a misnomer that he knew would crack me up. Things like that make me happy. Other women want diamonds; all it takes for me is a good laugh. I'm just too easy.
My husband owns a commercial carpet, tile, and upholstery cleaning business and was at a job site in a sports bar. It was late, and those patrons sober enough to remember where they parked their vehicle had already left. The remaining trio of inebriated yahoos was engaged in a garrulous and raunchy conversation regarding women and sex. In the course of this, one of them took a break to ask Joe who he was. Joe explained that his company was there to clean the carpets, to which the man laughed and said, "Well that's a fetal effort!" He then turned to his buddies and, blissfully unaware of his gaffe, repeated it. "His company is here to clean. I told him it was a fetal effort! Totally fetal!" His comrades agreed!
Another gem came in the form of an error on a medical transcription report. My cousin Carol said a particular doctor insisted he had not outsourced his dictations to a foreign locale. She knew better when a report came across her desk that mangled the diagnosis "inflamed uterus." The unfortunate patient was instead diagnosed with a "flaming Eucharist." Yikes! Holy vexatious verbiage, Batman!
As long as there are words there will be people mangling them, and I am certain I have done my fair share (and no doubt will again.) Fortunately, humor writing lends itself to such verbal vagaries, so I will share more of the same with you at some point. Asking me to keep these spoken faux pas to myself is a fetal effort. Totally fetal.
Til next time -
Lisa
My husband owns a commercial carpet, tile, and upholstery cleaning business and was at a job site in a sports bar. It was late, and those patrons sober enough to remember where they parked their vehicle had already left. The remaining trio of inebriated yahoos was engaged in a garrulous and raunchy conversation regarding women and sex. In the course of this, one of them took a break to ask Joe who he was. Joe explained that his company was there to clean the carpets, to which the man laughed and said, "Well that's a fetal effort!" He then turned to his buddies and, blissfully unaware of his gaffe, repeated it. "His company is here to clean. I told him it was a fetal effort! Totally fetal!" His comrades agreed!
Another gem came in the form of an error on a medical transcription report. My cousin Carol said a particular doctor insisted he had not outsourced his dictations to a foreign locale. She knew better when a report came across her desk that mangled the diagnosis "inflamed uterus." The unfortunate patient was instead diagnosed with a "flaming Eucharist." Yikes! Holy vexatious verbiage, Batman!
As long as there are words there will be people mangling them, and I am certain I have done my fair share (and no doubt will again.) Fortunately, humor writing lends itself to such verbal vagaries, so I will share more of the same with you at some point. Asking me to keep these spoken faux pas to myself is a fetal effort. Totally fetal.
Til next time -
Lisa
Monday, April 6, 2009
Going to the Dogs
Behold -- Rigby and Penny, my hairy kids. We didn’t name them after the Beatles' songs Eleanor Rigby and Penny Lane. Sadly, we weren't that clever. Boy, it hurts to admit that!
Rigby (yellow) and Penny (black) are Lab wannabes that we rescued two years ago. Their actual parentage is Lab and pick-a-random-breed. Very sociable, they love the local "dog park," so designated as it boasts fenced areas where dog owners can let their beloved Fido run sans leash. Of note is how well these various canines interact.
Today our dogs ran with a Weimeraner, a Pit Bull, two Golden Retrievers, a Great Pyrenees and about five other mixed breeds including a sweet little something-or-other that was shaped like a Dachshund with the fur, ears and coloring of a Springer Spaniel (with red bows tied atop her ears she made quite the fashion statement.) They all sniffed butts, licked each other's doggie drool, and played chase. No fights broke out. To dogs, another dog is just a dog. They identify each other by scent, not by their AKC certificate, color of their fur, or the religion of their owner. Rigby and Penny didn’t give a woof that Daisy is a Pit Bull and that Pit Bulls have a bad rep. Daisy was just a fellow pooch, and she was mighty fun to play with.
Seems to me dogs have a pretty great view of things.
I don't mean to imply that I want to exchange handshakes for butt sniffs; but it would be nice if we humans could accept each other the way dogs do and revel in our sameness instead of always looking to our differences. Considering the state of the world these days, maybe going to the dogs isn't such a bad thing.
Woof!
Lisa
Rigby (yellow) and Penny (black) are Lab wannabes that we rescued two years ago. Their actual parentage is Lab and pick-a-random-breed. Very sociable, they love the local "dog park," so designated as it boasts fenced areas where dog owners can let their beloved Fido run sans leash. Of note is how well these various canines interact.
Today our dogs ran with a Weimeraner, a Pit Bull, two Golden Retrievers, a Great Pyrenees and about five other mixed breeds including a sweet little something-or-other that was shaped like a Dachshund with the fur, ears and coloring of a Springer Spaniel (with red bows tied atop her ears she made quite the fashion statement.) They all sniffed butts, licked each other's doggie drool, and played chase. No fights broke out. To dogs, another dog is just a dog. They identify each other by scent, not by their AKC certificate, color of their fur, or the religion of their owner. Rigby and Penny didn’t give a woof that Daisy is a Pit Bull and that Pit Bulls have a bad rep. Daisy was just a fellow pooch, and she was mighty fun to play with.
Seems to me dogs have a pretty great view of things.
I don't mean to imply that I want to exchange handshakes for butt sniffs; but it would be nice if we humans could accept each other the way dogs do and revel in our sameness instead of always looking to our differences. Considering the state of the world these days, maybe going to the dogs isn't such a bad thing.
Woof!
Lisa
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Shaping Up for Summer
It is a testament to the difference between the sexes that our first warm, sunny day in quite some time meant a Saturday of fishing at the lake for my husband and a day of self-examination for me. He's bobbing around in a fishing boat with his buddy and a full cooler and I'm groaning because I had to wear my fat pants instead of comfy capris or shorts. (Clearly those Peanut M&M's I'm addicted to are not low cal.) I'm afraid to pull out the old tankini, my friends. Terrified. Because I know it ain't gonna be pretty.
What's a chocolate loving Southern lady to do?
Panicking is not the answer. It only triggers the urge for a larger bag of Peanut M&M's (the dark chocolate...mmm...) and, well, that isn't going to get me out of these fat pants.
Okay, here's where you expect me to tell you all about a great walking/yoga/Pilates/aerobic/fill-in-the-exercise program to slim you down for summer. Please. This is me you're talking to. The Peanut M&M queen. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for exercise; but I need something to shape me up in a bathing suit now, not six months from now.
Fortunately, there is a place that offers options for the dreaded bathing suit. Newport News has a whole line of suits that are styled for specific body types, and some actually promise to give the illusion of a slimmer you and me. I've added Newport News to my Useful Links for Ladies. Just give it a click and head to the Swim Shop tab. Easy to navigate, and there are lots of options depending on what you want to hide or enhance.
I'd love to say I'm going to find a flattering bathing suit (isn't that an oxymoron?) that shapes me up, and that I'll post a picture here for your viewing pleasure. Ha! And Peanut M&M's are fat free.
Happy suit shopping!
Lisa
What's a chocolate loving Southern lady to do?
Panicking is not the answer. It only triggers the urge for a larger bag of Peanut M&M's (the dark chocolate...mmm...) and, well, that isn't going to get me out of these fat pants.
Okay, here's where you expect me to tell you all about a great walking/yoga/Pilates/aerobic/fill-in-the-exercise program to slim you down for summer. Please. This is me you're talking to. The Peanut M&M queen. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for exercise; but I need something to shape me up in a bathing suit now, not six months from now.
Fortunately, there is a place that offers options for the dreaded bathing suit. Newport News has a whole line of suits that are styled for specific body types, and some actually promise to give the illusion of a slimmer you and me. I've added Newport News to my Useful Links for Ladies. Just give it a click and head to the Swim Shop tab. Easy to navigate, and there are lots of options depending on what you want to hide or enhance.
I'd love to say I'm going to find a flattering bathing suit (isn't that an oxymoron?) that shapes me up, and that I'll post a picture here for your viewing pleasure. Ha! And Peanut M&M's are fat free.
Happy suit shopping!
Lisa
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Younger Than You Think
Great news! I am 6.2 years younger than I thought I was.
So says RealAge.com, a website that caters to the health conscious and those who want to be. RealAge.com offers a free test that calculates your "real age" based on answers to questions related to your health history and habits. Then they go a step further by offering recommendations and solutions for those areas of your life that could use improvement to make you healthier.
This test has been featured on CNN, MSNBC, Fox News, Newsweek, the New York Times, and many more. I found it to be an easy way to get a snapshot view of the road I am on from a "healthy lifestyle" standpoint. No real surprises, but some good advice and common sense recommendations.
I have added the link to my "Useful Links for Ladies" so it will be easy for you to hit the site and have a look. There are other health tests as well, and pages on dieting that include a BMI calculator and easy yoga techniques. All in all, a site worth visiting. Mostly, I'm just excited that I dropped 6.2 years off my age with a few clicks of the mouse. (Ah...if only it were that easy!)
Now I need to find a site that increases my bust, decreases my hips, and burns calories for me. When I do, I promise to share the link with you. We ladies have to stick together.
Til next time,
Lisa
So says RealAge.com, a website that caters to the health conscious and those who want to be. RealAge.com offers a free test that calculates your "real age" based on answers to questions related to your health history and habits. Then they go a step further by offering recommendations and solutions for those areas of your life that could use improvement to make you healthier.
This test has been featured on CNN, MSNBC, Fox News, Newsweek, the New York Times, and many more. I found it to be an easy way to get a snapshot view of the road I am on from a "healthy lifestyle" standpoint. No real surprises, but some good advice and common sense recommendations.
I have added the link to my "Useful Links for Ladies" so it will be easy for you to hit the site and have a look. There are other health tests as well, and pages on dieting that include a BMI calculator and easy yoga techniques. All in all, a site worth visiting. Mostly, I'm just excited that I dropped 6.2 years off my age with a few clicks of the mouse. (Ah...if only it were that easy!)
Now I need to find a site that increases my bust, decreases my hips, and burns calories for me. When I do, I promise to share the link with you. We ladies have to stick together.
Til next time,
Lisa
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