THOUGHTS AT THREE A.M.

LOOKING FOR GOSPEL MUSIC? TRY TO GET THE WORDS RIGHT!

Now I am not trying to be unkind, but sometimes when I go back to check and see what the request was,I get some surprises. Why, just today, one of them was," hail, hail the line of Judah." Obviously another case of a person hearing the song,and liking it, but not fully aware of what was being said. Surely, there is nothing wrong with that, or there wouldn't be so many wanting the Lyrics to Gospel songs, but think a moment. What would the possible connection be, between Gospel songs, and a "line of Judah?" Standing in line for something? I don't think so. Lineage? Maybe, but I can't think of any songs I would want to hear, tracing the lineage of Judah...and even if there is such a song, I don't think anyone would be shouting "Hail,Hail!" to it.I think the Bible does quite enough of "begats" without us having to pen songs about it! No, what I think this person was searching for here, was any songs having to do with the LION of Judah,which as most of us know is one of the names for God,and his son, Jesus Christ.One such song is "The King of who I am",which I published the lyrics for a few months back...but, sorry to say, I don't recall any "Hail, hail" in that song...or any other Lion of Judah song. But that's just me. I don't know all the Gospel songs, particularly if it is new, or really really old.

But now, armed with your new knowledge, it should be easier for you to resume your search, knowing you are probably looking for Hail the Lion of Judah!

OUI?

VIRGINIA TECH!: WHEN TERRIBLE THINGS HAPPEN!!!

I know that you are hurting right now. We are all hurting, because word has gotten around so quickly...all but hermits and those who don't care have seen the news,and heard all about that "depressed" young man who decided to go on a rampage today and ended up shooting and killing 22 people, including himself,and injured countless others.It's a hard thing to witness via t.v.: it's an even harder thing to report, or blog on.And yet, it's even more difficult to be silent. If by not saying anything on the situation gives one the feeling that some people don't care, then I must speak. If in speaking I bring you to tears, or to wrath, then that at least is an emotion more easily understood and dealt with than the emptiness inside left by the vast sense of waste of those lives, so full of potential,cut short before they could realize their dreams and ambitions. My heart and soul goes out to the parents of each and every student  injured or killed today,as well as the families of the instructors who put their lives on the line to protect their students.

In the next few days your going to hear a lot of flowery speeches about those involved,and see footage of people in churches crying and praying,just as we have seen before when a tragedy has occurred. Whether this signifies a long term beginning to a commitment to God from now on, or just a short term gesture,because they are frightened or in mourning,none but God can tell. People will react in strange ways at times like this.

As my Mother used to say: this reminds me of a story.

It seems a young mother took her little boy to his first day of school,and walked up to the teacher, and informed her that in no uncertain terms she did not expect the teacher to hit her little sensitive boy."Oh?" the teacher said," Then he's so well behaved, he won't be acting up?" "Oh,no! I don't mean that at all! He probably will act up...a little. But he's so sensitive, that all you have to do, is hit the kid next to him, and he will settle right down!"

So, my question to you is, what do you think? Might this instance be yet another situation,where God allowed this to happen, in effect, hitting the kid next to us, to get our attention? Another warning to get yourself right with God before something worse comes upon us?

I think it could very well be so.

I'm praying for all of you, and God bless you all.

OUI?

JUST HOW BADLY DO YOU WANT TO GET NOTICED?

A number of requests have come down the pike, wanting to know how to get noticed,and an equal number of responses have been, " a see through blouse,and no bra." I am assuming that the seekers have been girls and the responses have been from men. If you are so anxious to be "noticed" that you will go for this dreadful advice, then you must want attention very "Badly"! Please, don't do this. Unless you are a pop star trying to rebuild your career,or an old woman with very sensitive skin, you won't get the kind of "notice" that will in any way, shape or form be what you desire. This is not the way to find the man of your dreams, this is the way to find a guy looking for a floozy for the night! Of course, if that is the type of impression you want to give, then go ahead and dress like a streetwalker,and you will be noticed.Not only by the guys on the make, as they say, but also by the local PD,watching you for signs of actual hooking going on, since that is what they will take you to be. Also, you may find your landlord looking strangely at you, and perhaps making demands on you that you'll find uncomfortable,like raising your rent,or just coming right out and asking you to move, because they run a nice place! And, don't be surprised if you have neighbors pulling their children away from you, and telling you not to talk to them. People have a way of responding negatively to young women who dress suggestively. You could find yourself with a reputation that precedes you, which you haven't actively earned, simply by the way you dress. And, that nice man, Mr. Right, whom you hope to find, fall in love with and he with you? Honey, he may see you, and even admire you from afar, but don't hold your breath that he is going to come after you with any serious intentions. In his eyes, you will be the woman his mother warned him about, good for one night, but not to marry!

So, what is a young woman to do who wants to be noticed,without running the risk of being misunderstood? Dignity.Be clean, be neat, and wear clothes that fit.Don't be wearing pants too tight, or too baggy,skirts too short or too snug,and for goodness sakes, don't be caught without underwear! For a man to find you interesting, he needs to look at you as a lovely package. Have your hair done nicely, understated make-up, and a lovely smile, smelling sweet,and wearing clothes appropriate for the situation. Remember that packages look pretty, and don't reveal anything until you take the wrapping off! Going to the office? Dress as though you are going to meet his family. Going clubbing? Even though your friends may dress scantily,there is nothing wrong with dressing up, in that little black dress,heels and a touch of jewelry. That says class, with a capital "K". Not going to a high class place? You'd rather play pool, or go bowling? Well, why not wear those comfortable jeans,with a very feminine blouse, and nice slip-on shoes,and do full make-up? Make the most of your assets, and down-play your flaws. Then, once you are all dressed and made up and ready to walk out the door,look at yourself in the mirror, and ask yourself this question: What can I take off, and still look nice? Most of us overdo it with the jewelry, so it is a good rule of thumb to take off one thing. If your wearing a matching earrings and necklace and bracelet, remove one of those. If there is anything that jangles, or can get caught on someone else's clothes, that should go. Even if you like the look of a ring on every finger, if your going out to find a guy, make sure your ring finger on your left hand is naked! Otherwise, he will assume you are taken, and keep right on walking. Look at yourself in the mirror with a cold steely eye. Don't run the risk of being taken for a circus horse,if you want to be some guy's cute little filly!

And finally, after reading this over, it occurs to me that you may be needing more than just motherly advice on how to dress to catch a man's eye. You may be wanting some serious re-enforcement of those standards you already know. A reminder that you are probably just fine the way you are, and it's alright just to be yourself, let your wonderful personality shine through. Because in the final analysis, nobody falls in love with a body and a face and the fashions they dress themselves up in. That is not enduring love, that is something else altogether, and it won't last. Oh yes, human beings can be shallow and thoughtless from time to time, and you may get the feeling that the parade is passing you by as all around you people are coupling up,and noone seems to be looking your way. But please, don't get desperate. Men seem to be able to smell desperate females a mile off,and will avoid them at all costs. Relax! Seek out friends who like to do what you like,and go places, and do things that make you happy,and don't worry about whether someone else is noticing you. Do that, and when you least expect it, he will find you. He will be another antique hound, or library fiend,or be just as nuts about flea markets as you are. He will be captivated by your smile and the sound of your laughter, and it won't matter to him if you aren't a scrawny runway model, or a fashion plate.

If anything I have said has helped you, please leave me a comment, or if I missed addressing your concern, leave me a comment about that too! I am more than happy to help!

OUI?

A HARD QUESTION TO ANSWER!!

Tonight I was asked;" When was the first time you got drunk?" Well, I didn't have a ready answer. I was just stopped, because I had to seriously consider this. I was married and had a child before I even came close. My husband and I went to a house-party thrown by his brother,and my husband plied me with sole-gin fizzes all night long.(In my home state, at that time a married woman could legally drink, regardless of her age.) I was 19 at the time, but I remember every moment of that evening, and even though I got very warm and relaxed,I still wasn't staggering or slurring my words or in any way out of control,so I don't consider that the first time I got drunk. I honestly don't recall drinking much of anything until I was tending bar, years later. I was to the point in my employment that I was trusted to open the bar at 6 a.m.,and worked straight through until 6p.m.. It was a Friday,and I had run all day long, filling drink orders, cooking food,and cashing checks, and had not had a chance to sit down all day, and when I finally was relieved, my feet were numb, clear up to my knees. There was no way I was going to be able to walk the one block to my home, so I  went around the bar, and sat on a bar stool until the feeling came back to my legs and feet,and asked Mark for a glass of ice water. It was very unusual for me to be there past my shift, and the word spread all up and down the bar that I was there. Myriad times customers had offered to buy me drinks,and I always thanked them, but never took the drink, because I felt it was wrong to drink while working. Plus, I never really liked alcohol, anyway. But, this one night, all of a sudden, I had people buying me drinks left and right, bottles of beer, glasses of beer,and shots were lined up in front of me as though they thought I was the thirstiest person on the planet,and since I was stuck sitting there, I decided to at least make a show of appreciation for the patron's generosity. I tasted a draft beer,and it was so cold, and I was so hot and sweaty and my mouth was so dry, that it really hit the spot. I had folks coming up to talk to me, and they began playing all my favorite songs on the Juke box, and the place seemed to fill up with all sorts of people who knew me,and wanted to buy me whatever I wanted. I felt trapped, in a way, because all I really wanted to do, was to regain my ability to feel my legs and feet,and walk home, have dinner with my son, take a bath and go to bed.  But, when I finally expressed my wish to someone, that got all blown up out of proportion, and suddenly I was given the phone, and spoke to my mother who said, don't worry about hurrying home, Yon son is already in bed, having had his dinner,and you need some time to relax and unwind anyway, enjoy yourself, and come home when you're ready! The next thing I knew, I had a basket of deep fried mushrooms in front of me, (which everyone knew was one of my favorites) and someone had called out for Frank's Pizza, which is absolutely the best there is, and I decided to just have one drink, one little sip, out of each drink in front of me. Well, it started out with beer, and some shots of schnapps, but it ended up with dozens of beers, and shots of brandy, and wine spritzers and 7/7's, and peppermint schnapps, peach schnapps, and Harvey wallbangers, and sloe screws, and you name it, I" tasted" it that night! By the time the feeling returned to my feet and legs, the rest of me was feeling no pain,either. In along with all of that I had the mushrooms and the pizza,so thankfully, I didn't have any trouble navigating, but I was definitely "lit". About the time the place was supposed to close, some people were talking to me about going out to the "Crystal", and then taking me out to breakfast,but I at least had the presence of mind to drink my glass of ice water,and say goodnight, and go home.

So, there you have it, the first time I got drunk I was about 30. However, it certainly wasn't the last.   Little by little, it turned into a regular thing, because I always had trouble with my feet, and that one block walk up the hill to home got longer and longer as my hours got longer. Until one day, I woke up and realized I couldn't  go on this way,and I wanted out of the bars and away from booze and drunks. And it wasn't very long that the Lord took me out of that lifestyle, got me a better job,and took the taste for booze away from me, Praise God!,Just overnight!

Oh, from time to time, I might suddenly think, gee, a beer would taste good right now. But then I wait a minute,and the feeling goes away. Always. I haven't had a drop in all the time I have lived in this building, and that's been 14 years. Beyond that, I don't keep track. Who cares? I don't miss it. Praise the Lord, I'm glad it's gone!

OUI?

TIME,THE STUFF OF LIFE, WHY IS IT BEING BELITTLED AND MINIMIZED?

Age. Just about the time you have gathered enough of it to be honored for it,society now wants to warp your title and pretend it's something of which  to be ashamed! This is the travesty of the present day. How odd. Consider. Longevity is,and has been for many generations, a goal, sought after as life-long pursuits by medical scientists, researchers and doctors. Everybody seems to want it, and yet, just about the time that a person seems to be in a position to claim to have reached it, everyone flip-flops on it,and suddenly, nobody is referred to as being old...they are now, 85 years young!  They lie about their age, or simply refuse to tell you how old they are! Some just stop having birthdays,and continue to be at a youthful age, the same one every year, fooling no-one,not even themselves. Not only that, but they have come up with the means by which they seemed to have stopped the clock, by face lifts, botox injections, and marvelous lotions and creams to undo what that most desirable age has done to them. They still want the age, they just don't want to look like they have it! Or, own up to the fact that they have it! I do believe that it all goes back to that which we see as valuable. It used to be that experience and wisdom was honored, and of course, it was the elders of society that held that office. Beyond that, most are motivated in their quest for long life, not to simply be long in years and having gathered knowledge, but also fear of death.Anything to help them avoid the inevitable, and the unknown, is preferable to facing the fact that sooner or later, we all die. And, so it is that, now our society has made youth and beauty synonymous...having the same meaning,when in actuality, this is not true. While youth can be very beautiful, obviously it does not last, which is why the multitudes seem to worship the young, and kick aside the older members of our communities,forgetting that true beauty is not what one sees from the skin out, but that which is contained in an individuals mind, personality and spirit. Being pretty in the face and body as a youth may help you get through a job interview so you can get the position, but if you faked your way through collage, and didn't legitimately obtain a degree, so that you can do the job, you won't have it long. In fact, there are few jobs in which looks are an asset, and even fewer that one would be proud to admit to. Pretty or homely, a person has to have something behind that face,and beyond that body to offer the job market,because, let's be honest here. Not every girl with nice skin, good bones, and a winning smile is going to be a star! Not every man with the frame of a body builder, thick hair and a square jaw is going to have a chance to be in the movies! Many will listen to others and try, and most will fail, and go back home and take a mundane job that pays the bills and settle down, get married and have kids,and somehow feel secure in the secret understanding that if they had kept at it, one day, they might have been up on that silver screen, famous, adored,and rich beyond their wildest dreams...and it didn't happen, but hey! I've still got my looks! And with that to hold them, they go along from day to day, year to year, dazzling the opposite sex with their animal magnetism, and so comfortable knowing that,as attractive they are,they have no need to continue educating themselves, or striving to learn or otherwise grow intellectually. They don't want to be a dweeb or a geek. They are having way too much fun running around, drinking, partying, and in general enjoying the social scene, until one day they get a good look at themselves, and Whoa! What's this? Something is wrong! What happened to my hair line? Or, wait a minute! I'm not cute anymore! Little by little, at the parties, the attractive people, the beautiful girls, and handsome men aren't paying any attention to me, and even though the dweebs and geeks try to befriend me, I have no idea what they are talking about,so we have nothing to say to each other. Those who are getting older,and start to show it, are now suddenly out in the cold! Not a pleasant foretaste of what is to come, is it? Of course, that is not they way it will be for all, simply because some of us have not spent our lives depending on our looks in order to fit in. Some of you are still saying, well, that won't be me. I'll always look good. Well, for your sake, I hope your right, but you never know what is just around the corner. In the meantime, consider what you will do, when you reach that place where you know you are getting on in years. Will you "have work done?" Or, are you taking really good care of yourself, and trust that you will always be proud to say how old you are, no matter what? There are so many variables in this subject, that it is difficult to know exactly how to proceed, to keep one's self fit, body, mind and spirit. But, personally, I defer to Mrs.Ah! Otherwise known as my mother. Beautiful, she was, and sharp as a tack, right up to the day she died, at 78. She kept herself impeccably groomed, but never went overboard.Never had any cosmetic surgery, and yet put to shame women 20 years younger. She read anything she could get her hands on, and was capable of carrying on a conversation with anyone, on any subject. People found her fascinating because there was never any artifice about her age. She would tell anyone how old she was,and didn't care who knew it. She was proud of every year,every grandchild, and every pale strand she found in her head full of that  thick auburn hair. Being a red-head, she didn't go white, she went blonde. Being my mother's daughter, I too am proud of my age, and don't go mumbling when asked by a doctor or anyone else with the right to know how old I am. I am not one of these prissy pink-tea society ladies who are horrified if they have to reveal their age. Phooey on that noise. I have lived every one of my years, and am darned grateful the Lord got me this far!

So, if you, or someone in your life is given to lying about their age, or thinks they will be looked down upon because they are getting on in years, kindly remind them, or yourself, to consider the alternative.Those who are no longer getting older, are dead.

And I hear it can be very embarrassing when you and your mother are both approaching the same age, from opposite directions!

OUI?

THE "CALLING?"

The calling really isn't an appropriate title for this piece,and yet I am uncertain how else to affix a label. Perhaps a more perfect title shall occur to me in the writing of it, and perhaps not. It would be considerably bold of me to make it a more brash statement,to remove the question mark. In my heart of hearts, I will allow that I might be called of the Lord to do something,however,it is not my place to decide whether I am doing that, or even whether or not I have been called. Only HE can judge the truth of it, but others shall judge all else. Of that I have no doubt or fear.

All I can relate is my experience,from the first to the latest, and if there is a calling, it shall in all probability be revealed somewhere along the line. Strangely, to be complete, this must begin before I have any memory of events. Every birthday I spent with my mother, she would relate to me, and of course, anyone willing to listen, how both of us nearly died that day. She went into labor about Ten a.m...and I was not delivered until nearly twelve hours later. I was placenta previa. Around four the afterbirth was delivered, which left me dry and unsupported in her womb for about six hours. There were several complications. The doctor needed to take me with forceps, however, this could not be done until there was an anesthetist there so he could operate on her immediately,or she would bleed to death. But he had a choice. He could disregard the risk to me and do the operation,thereby saving her life. Apparently,there were two options to put mother to sleep.The sort easily at hand was the kind that would put her to sleep for the surgery, but would depress my breathing, and would probably kill me. Unfortunately, the guy with the knock-out drops was miles away, battling his way through a terrible summer storm to get to the hospital. The hospital itself was threatened by twin tornadoes while mother and the doctor and nurses and other doctors were in that delivery room were doing what they could to keep us both alive.Everyone kept telling my doctor that I was dead,and he should just go ahead and do the surgery,and there was a raging argument going on right over my mothers head. The doctor kept shouting, "No-sir! That baby is not dead! And I'm not going to kill it!" Well, obviously, Doc won,'cause here I am! Whew! Since then, it's been one thing after another. A few months later, My entire family was hit with polio.This was during the big epidemic,and everyone knew the symptoms,and mother spotted it right off, so she was able to respond immediately. That could have killed me, because I was just a baby, but fortunately, mother had just read the story of sister Kenny, whose remedy was discussed in great detail in the book,and as we came down with the fever,one by one she took care of us. We all seemed to come out of that without any major lasting effects, but with certain weaknesses. Mine seemed to be my respiratory system. I can recall spending every winter in the hospital with something involving my breathing, and it was always, "serious". (But, of course, this was long before anyone ever heard of post-polio syndrome,so the final chapter hasn't been written on that either.) I was also, a "fainter". This usually happened at church, but it also occurred in the school, when we would have large groups (like the whole school) in the assembly hall, for choir practice.It never occurred to me to wonder why it never happened any other time. At about the age of seven or eight years, I came down with scarlet fever. I say about, because I don't remember exactly. I was very sick for a very long time. I only know that I was barely in school, when I got so sick that I lost most of the school year,and my parents got really upset when they were told that since I had lost so much time, I would have to repeat that grade. But we were Catholics. Anyone who knows anything about a Catholic family knows that the one thing that all good Catholics do, is to see to it that their children attend the church school.In this one thing, I still fervently believe. Children should be taught of their faith every day, just as math, or English, or any other subject to prepare them for life. But I digress. My Mother and Father hit the ceiling. Holding me back was the same as labeling me as a failure,and everyone in our church,school and social circles would know about it,and treat me accordingly. It would be as bad as a scandal,and yet they also understood that the school couldn't pass me on to the next grade without my first having the foundation of passing the current grade.But there was a solution. It was pretty radical, but my parents knew that the Catholic schools curriculum was far ahead of the public school. So, they chose to do the unthinkable,and move me to a public school. After testing, the public school passed me on to the next grade without a problem and I was up with my peers, even after having lost all that time.

I still remember the incident when the Lord first revealed his plans for me. It was a nice spring day, and I was walking home from the Catholic school, one of the last times I would do so, when he said, " I have something for you to do." That was it. No blinding flashes of light, or angel choirs singing, or visions. No tears of blood or stigmata to show for what I had heard, so how could I tell anyone? So, I waited, knowing if this was real, sooner or later, He would say more. If it was my imagination, eventually I would forget all about it, and go on with my life. Okay, so maybe I have something,...etc. wasn't exactly a plan revealed, but it was a definite starting point that I have never forgotten completely.Then a while after that,I was given, I believe, a word,an insight. The devil has been trying to kill me all my life. It happened again when I gave birth to Yon son. I stopped breathing, and he was premature, and one of the nurses went out and told my husband both I and the child were dead! Years went by,and I was busy raising yon son,running the home, attending collage classes,working and having emergency surgeries,each time, to save my life. Meanwhile, I was seeking the Lord. I was investigating churches. I even began to join a couple of them, and got baptized in one of their tanks...but I soon realized that these were not for me. And then, I broke my back. Lost my job because I couldn't work,and the doctor my employer sent me to covered up the fact that my x-rays showed I had broken my back,and I was in so much pain, it was not possible for me to return to work. Then, several things happened. I found amongst my things, an old decrepit typewriter,a standard royal...manual. I fell heir to a typing course, with books and records, and thought, well, I broke my back, but my hands still work,and I have always loved to read and write, so why not give it a whirl? I taught myself to type, and then, for lack of a better subject, spent that first unemployed winter writing that book I had threatened to write while tending bar.During that time, I met Tom, and we became a happy little family about the time I submitted my manuscript to a publisher. Long story short,it would be published today, if someone hadn't stolen it. While I grieved over the loss of my first creation, I still continued to write. Mostly stories to amuse Yon son,which helped him with his reading. He loved the fact that I wrote them for him so much, it was never any problem getting him to read for me. Then, I got saved. I began to seek the Lord in earnest, asking him what I should be doing, and his answer was like in a dream. He said" What is that you have in your hand?" I looked, and it was my typewriter. But it was no longer the manual Royal I had started out on. It was the new one I had lately fallen heir to, My electric Underwood Scriptor. I finally wrote a new book on that,and then got a computer...the one I now call my dinosaur,which I used to finish the book,and it turned into three. One thing led to another,and soon Tom was gone, and Yon son was single again, and he decided that I should have a good computer, where I could go on line and keep in touch with my favorite preacher, and maybe find a publisher, which led me to typepad.

And I don't know, but I suspect, that the Lord knew the end from the beginning, when he spoke to my heart that day on third avenue while I was walking home from school. But he also knew there was no point in telling me what it was he wanted me to do. There were no words for where I am now, back then. And, I also suspect that he gave me those words of encouragement, because he knew that I was going to have to go through a lot to get to the place where he could bring it all together. So,even though he did not conjure up a picture in my mind, or dazzle my eyes with a vision, still, a vision was given,just as surely as if he had shown me angels dancing on the lawn. Scripture says:"My people perish for lack of a vision." I believe the Lord gave me that to keep hope in my heart for the future, as well as faith and trust in him, and to keep me searching for him. He kept the devil from killing me...not because I am anything special, but because knowing that, I will respond to his promptings,and write, what he tells me to write.And the devil? Well, he just knew that God had plans for me,and he is always trying to thwart whatever it is God has planned.

Just goes to show you what I have always believed.

God will use, whom he will use!

OUI?

WHY TEENAGERS OBSESS OVER THEIR COMPLEXIONS!

That was the question I found one day, and my immediate response was, considering that they are newly awakened to the opposite sex, with unaccustomed hormones coursing through their blood,and their skin erupting here there and everywhere, and then being bombarded with images of perfect skinned models,singers and stars,how could they avoid being concerned about their looks? They have no idea that all those high profile youngsters they so look up to have a tremendous machine working overtime to make them look perfect.When they see a picture of a Kelly Clarkson, or a Britney, or a Christina, they have no understanding that if one of them had a blemish or two on the day the shoot took place, it was just air-brushed out. Or, that if one of those famous kids had an attack of acne, they were hustled off the to dermatologist,and given pills to kill it,or that they spend hours every day in make-up, just to make them look perfect, even if they aren't! NO! They see photos of those perfect, beautiful faces, and since there is never a word breathed about the struggles and cover-ups of teens in the news, and the battle over the skin, they just think they are alone in this fight. No one ever bothers to tell them that when you have a facial, for instance, that more impurities will come out afterward, and they see this happening, and are horrified, and rather than take it in stride, and continue in a healthy routine,they redouble their efforts, and that is when the obsession takes over.They are out there in Godless public schools every day, trying to deal with a growing self-awareness, most of them with very little instruction as to what is really going on,and what information they do get,50% of it is wrong, passed from mouth to mouth,so the only thing they have to hang on to is, I can look presentable. The importance of their appearance is blown up out of all proportion,because just like anybody else, there is a driving thirst for love in their lives. They don't know, and basically couldn't care less, the truth of the drive for love is put there by God, and that he is the only one who can fulfill that need. All they know is, they have to make the most they can of their appearance, because it is your face that is the first anyone sees of you,and so it is natural for them to assume that if you throw enough acne fighting cleansers and lotions and potions and pore strips at your face, something will work. In the meantime, while waiting for them to make your skin perfect, we can always cover it up with  make-up, and maybe someone is going to find them attractive enough to pay attention to them.

And that, as they say, is what it's all about.

OUI?