I QUIT SMOKING!!!

Then I started again after a month...Smh. I'm so glad that I'm not addicted to anything stronger than nicotine because my flesh is WEAK. I've been a smoker since 2000. I started a few weeks before my 28th birthday. How's that for an early present? Other smokers have   chastised me for starting so late. Okayyyyyyyy...Um, many people started  smoking while they were still in their teens or preteens. At least I didn't break the law. So THERE.

But why did I start? Well, at the time I was engaged. My fiance (that I worked with at the Retail Cesspool) was emotionally abusive and controlling. This particular long story short, the majority of our time together was spent with him telling me who I could and could not talk to, especially men, while he did basically whatever the hell he pleased--with and to other women. I mean, he literally made a list of the men that I was allowed to talk to--and it was a short list--consisting of 2 of his friends (also co-workers) who were already boo'd up, another co-worker who was probably in his mid 60's at the time, his dad, his two brothers, and his brother-in-law. Yet every time we went out, he was introducing me to his female "friends" that we encountered pretty much everywhere. (Apparently, he had a thing for hood boogers and trash; it was truly a miracle of biblical proportions that I tested clean--The Miracle of the Trojans.) Working in retail, where you have to be nice and make eye contact with everyone, this shambling scrub had me walking around with my head down, looking like a fool. See, he threatened to kill anyone that I talked to who wasn't on the list. I was too afraid to disobey. One day, a female co-worker came up to me and told me that he was cheating on me with someone at work (and I later found out there were others). She told me that she thought I was a really nice person and had heard I was saving myself for marriage (he was indeed my first but we decided to do it before the wedding) and she said I deserved to know what he was doing. I was already having misgivings about walking down the aisle with this miscreant, and this sealed the deal. I was so shocked and hurt though that I had to calm my nerves immediately. Since this revelation was made to me during my shift at the Retail Cesspool, drinking was out of the question, plus I had to drive home. I'd heard co-workers who smoke say that cigarettes calmed their nerves, so I decided give it a try, and the rest is history.

I broke up with the guy soon after the revelation, but it has been much harder to break up with the cigarettes that aren't treating me any better than he did, and could kill me someday...Oh, addiction, you wacky bastard...But you know what? Out of my many (failed) attempts to quit smoking, this latest one felt different. After the first 3 days--quitters know that's the hellacious time when you shake the physical addiction--I was enjoying not smoking and not smelling like smoke. During that piddly month as a non-smoker, I became as snobby as those people who've never smoked and are all self-righteous about it, minus the unsolicited lectures. (Y'all make me sick by the way.) My sense of smell was sharper than it had been in years, and I could tell who smoked with just a whif of their breeze as they walked by. Heavy smokers standing in front of me at HN&S made me want to gag--they smelled like ashtrays. I could even tell which of my students were around a smoker at home. Smoking around kids is pretty low, in case you hadn't heard. *side note* I once saw a family get into their car with a newborn and the mama lit a cigarette. It was winter time so they didn't have the windows down so the baby wouldn't catch it's death of cold...But wait.

I never once purchased a carton of cigarettes. I bought them a pack at a time, and it was nice having an extra $20 a week. My speaking and singing voice was so much clearer. The rasp that I had acquired soon disappeared. I've seen videos of singers who sang and smoke at the same time, and I'm just like, how, Sway? I lost all of my high notes, and I want them back.

How, Lana?! :'(

 So whyyyyy did I start back? You know, I really missed smoking. I missed it. Since I started back this time though, I haven't gotten the same type of enjoyment out of it. When I first started, I hid my newly acquired habit it from my family, so when I knew I would have a chance to be by myself and light up, it was almost like a turn-on. I literally felt like I was sneaking off to meet a lover. I got that feeling all the years I smoked, during church, during school, during sorority meetings. "Soon as I get out of here, I'm going to see my boo, Nic." I haven't been getting that feeling this go-round. Ironically, it feels more like when you finally break up with an asshole you were dating but for some dumb reason, you take him back. With every cigarette now, it's more like, "Bitch, why is you here?!"

And I guess I stink again. Anyone who smokes knows that perfume or cologne doesn't camouflage that smell.

Actually, writing this is almost cathartic enough to make me try quitting again, and hopefully really stick with it this time. I'm sort of apprehensive though. I'm afraid of the cravings. I'm afraid of being desperate for a cigarette when I know I shouldn't have one. I'm afraid of falling off the wagon. A friend and former co-worker from my radio days was an overweight smoker. She quit after having gall bladder surgery and being hospitalized and unable to drive after the procedure. I was standing in one of the offices smoking and she came from the studio and rhapsodized about my delicious second-hand smoke. I offered her a cigarette and she said, "I would rather gain back double the weight that I lost after my surgery and have to lose it all over than try to quit smoking again." I've always had an issue keeping weight on me, but over the years I've thought about what she said and it pretty much explains in a nutshell what quitting is like. It's hard as hell, and I'm afraid I'm not up to it and afraid of struggling. I need to be this afraid of dying of a smoking related cancer with a hole in my throat and my face all bloated like my daddy did. (Daddy looked like Bob Marley without the dreads before he got sick.) If I wasn't "too dumb to be scared" his death almost 10 years ago would have been the deciding factor in me putting the cancer sticks down for good. So I guess I'll scramble back up on the wagon after I finish the pack I'm on. I can't quit if I have cigarettes, even if I tear them up and throw them in the trash. I remember digging through the trashcan and finding a few cigarettes that weren't completely destroyed and I smoked them, because these wacky bastard that is addiction. So out of sight, out of mind is the route I will take. No more dumpster diving for the kid. Wish me luck.

Shellybird Randomness...Writer's Block

You know that moment when, as an aspiring writer of short fiction, you finally Christmas gift yourself a laptop and then finally rig the thing up in February--don't judge--and all of those amazing story ideas that came to you when you didn't feel like straining your eyes on your cell phone are now GONE?! Well, folks, this is my moment. I'm sprawled out watching the Oscars and waiting for something amazing to pop into my head so I can catch it on this screen, and...nothing. Ugh.

 My laptop was $200, so....not doing THAT.

I'm basically posting right now just to hear the hypnotic clickety-clack of the keys. Two sounds I love? The sound of the keys on a computer keyboard and people popping and chewing gum. What can I say?

So there's a random throw-away post for ya. Good-night.

There's Nobody Left...For Me, It Seems

Pardon me while I try to figure out why in the entire HELL I am still single. I am 44. I clean up well. What gives???? I thought I was going to be ok with books and cats. Now I'm not so sure because bitterness has settled on me like ash after a nuclear blast. Seeing the happy family lives of my friends played out moment by moment on social media is only adding insult to injury. Sometimes I'll wait all day before I "like" a photo. I'm not proud of that fact, but I own it. Honestly, as I get sucked deeper into the yawning abyss of singlehood, I find myself forgetting the "hows" of dating and being a girlfriend. Like most little girls, I had the expectation of a lavish wedding with an equally lavish gown that made me look like a princess. Now that isn't even a definite maybe anymore. It's like something that might have been.

Earlier today, I was pondering this and I thought of the encounter I had with my ex-boyfriend during the holidays. Nothing major (to y'all). He came through my line at HN&S. I think he was surprised to see me. I was unpleasantly surprised to see him because I didn't want him to see me working another dead-end retail job, with my left ring finger still naked as a jaybird. At least my hair was cute and my lipstick was popping though. Ladies, if you don't take any other advice from me ever--and that's perfectly understandable because I'm kinda flaky--heed this: Don't get caught slipping with your appearance. Exes are like the police, liable to roll up on ya anytime. Anyhoo, I digress. Today I was thinking about the fact that he's on his second marriage and how he and I dated for years between those marriages--collectively, we were together 17 years, I think. For a few years during our second go-round, every Christmas my family and I anticipated an engagement ring from him, and "the engagement ring" came in the form of a digitial camera, various necklace/earing jewelry sets, a Chevrolet pickup that he said was "for us" although I never drove it nor had the inclination to...It was a nice truck though, high off the ground. Anyways, I was outside having a cigarette during this pity party and as I walked up the steps to my house, I thought, "Why wasn't I good enough for him?" The old Shellybird would have cried at this thought, but I keep her chained to the pipes in the basement of my mind. New and slightly improved Shellybird only cries at funerals and during poignant vids that she sees on Facebook and Youtube--the soldiers' surprise returns are favorites--so there's that.

I haven't been on a date in over 2 years unless you count THIS mess. Don't get me wrong. My dance card would be full if I didn't have standards. These dudes need to get their shyte straight though. I have my qualifications, and I don't think I'm asking too much: No kids, no weed smoking, no police record (speeding tickets ok), no ho-like tendencies, no dummies, and no disrespect. Now what's wrong with that? People tell me I'm bougie, but honestly, I thought bougie black people also had money because that cancels me out from the jump. I just don't want to be saddled with mess, and I'm well within my rights to feel that way. Any woman who truly knows her worth should feel that way. And THAT, lil chirrens, is why I am still single. You wouldn't believe some of the bs I have to hear and put up with from various dudes at HN&S, and co-worker Reggie's stupid ass is still being propped up by various hype men and women who obviously can't see him for what he is like I can. I had to go to management on that azz last week because he doesnt know how to talk to anyone.

Smart mouth mutha....I've made the decision not to speak to him unless it's pertaining to work because you don't get to loud talk me or condescend to me, and I've given him more than one opportunity to reign it in. I am so glad I didn't take him up on his dinner offer because he is not worthy of me. Ladies, more unsolicited but sage advice from a flake: Know your worth. I have half a mind to take a quick trip to his ex-wife's facebook inbox (she's my high school classmate and on my friend list) and ask her what his deal is. Like, why did they split up? I'm no psychiatrist, but I was in an emotionally abusive/controlling relationship once, and Reggie is exhibiting some tendencies that just put my stomach in knots. Like I said, I only have half a mind to compare notes with her because she's engaged--I do believe this will be her 3rd marriage *side-eye*--so far be it from me to be a bag of wet brownies. She's moved on. But if I ever run into her at Wal-Mart again (inevitable) and SHE should bring him up first, it's off to the races.

Well, I've let that hobo live rent-free on this post long enough because, you know, I encounter some quality prospects as well...Until I look at the magic finger and see a wedding band. As of late, it's those annoying black wedding bands. When did THAT become a thing??? If I ever were to get married, I would hope the hubster wouldn't want one of those. I prefer white gold or platinum. That aside, why are the a**holes single and the sweet, well-mannered, handsome thoughtful ones that look like they read books taken? It's like the relationship axiom from hell.

The HN&S Chronicles: What You NOT Finna Do

*I started writing this on Thursday night. It's Saturday now, and I've been tweeking and editing this thing for 2 nights. Ugh!*

It's almost 2am and I am writing on a school night. I have a sub gig, but it's not until 11:45 am. As much as I enjoy subbing, I cannot STAND going to bed and getting up early unless I want to. If I don't have to get up early, it's a cause for celebration. How do I turn up when I'm on Shellybird Time?

In my last post, I was ensconced in the struggles with subbing, or getting motivated to sub. Well that has passed...for the most part. I've been getting the 4 days per week that my school system allows plus working at Hammers, Nails, & Sh*t in the evening, and it is kicking my ASS. I never felt this worn out when I was subbing and working at RetailTopia last year, and I do a lot less work at HN&S, so what's up with that?

Speaking of HN&S, haha! Lemme just tell you this. There's this dude "Thomas" who works at the store. The fact that he's 9 years older than me--he's in his 50's--with 3 kids (how many mamas I don't know or want to know), makes him not my type in any way, shape, or form. Although I will admit that the closer I get to the reality of cat ladyhood, the less stringent I am with my requirements. I'm not into workplace dalliances, though. I've made that mistake a time or 5, so as a general rule, I no longer mix business with pleasure.  This dude had been kinda flirty with me, calling me beautiful and gorgeous (color me appreciative, but unmoved), and after a few interesting-enough convos about work, God, and life asked me if I wanted to go out to dinner. I jokingly asked him if he was paying. He said that he would never allow a woman to pay for her own meal and would never take her out again if she insisted on doing so. I guess that makes him King of All Dudes. *insert eyeroll emoji* He tells me his number in this rapid fire way even though I wasn't near pen nor paper to write it down, and I don't remember numbers well, so there's that. I must admit that the Appleby's shrimp and spinach salad has been laying heavy on my mind for quite some time. HN&S is down the street from the Appleby's here and there have been evenings when the aroma wafting across the way of those skillet thingies made my soul weep, both for male companionship and for fancy food I don't have to pay for or cook. By the end of that week, I was sick with the allergy attack gets me every year when the seasons transition from summer to fall. The half-assed dinner invite was more or less forgotten, and he soon ripped his draws with me anyway, so now it's never going to happen.

See, I have this thing. I am a stickler for manners and sparing the feelings of others--total product of my raising and those Duso the Dolphin guidance sessions from elementary school.

A person's tone of voice and patience level carries a lot of weight with me. There is a certain way I speak to people and a certain way I expect them to speak to me. Where dating is concerned, what comes out of a dudes mouth and how it comes out can be a deal breaker. Don't judge me; I know I'm not the only woman who feels this way. But for those of you who don't mind, well, that's you. Honestly, that's why I never liked "The Honeymooners". The way Ralph talks to Alice? Nah, son. Just nah. Y'all can have that. But I digress. Thomas showed me his true colors on 2, actually 3 different occasions, snapping at me and raising his voice/storming off over little penny anty mistakes I made on the job. I mean, I am technically still a "new hire", you know. On both of those occasions I gave him the cold shoulder for a while after that because you're not going to flirt with me in one breath and talk to me like I'm the dumb, ugly chick amongst the sister-wives the next.

Another thing he did that pissed me off was trying to talk down to me. They play pretty decent music over the loudspeaker at HN&S. Thomas was humming one of the tunes one day and it was a song I liked so I was snapping my fingers. He tried to tell me I wasn't on beat (IMPOSSIBLÉ! I AM BLACK!). I think he was about to launch into a music lecture because he's a church musician, and well, that makes him an expert. While he was inhaling so he could expound, I jumped in and let him know that I am a trained musician, having played flute from elementary school all the way through high school--marching band and concert band. He looked right cheap then. I wonder if he's one of those "self-taught/play-by-ear" church piano players who bangs out every song like he's playing in a wild West saloon during a shootout. HA! That said, he's already used up his 3 strikes. NEXT time--and there probably will be one because he said himself that he needs to work on his patience*--he gets the stern "Here's what you NOT finna do" lecture because I am not the one and I am done.

The funny thing about all of this is that I suspect people at work are trying to ship us. I know for sure at least one guy is. Ev-er-y time he sees me he has to tease me about Thomas, as if we're already an item or close to it. Honestly, if you don't have anything more to say except the same stale shit every time you see me, a simple hi and bye will suffice. I guess me being a single middle aged black woman and him being a single middle aged black man makes us the perfect couple. Yep, that's all it takes....man, GTFOH.

*I'm guessing Thomas mentioning that he needed to work on his patience was his way of "apologizing". He said it in front of me but was talking to one of the other guys who was basically "hype man-ing" him through it. Dude, jr. high school is 30 plus years behind us--clean it up!

Sub Adventures 7: Nothing to See Here

Well, summer vacay is over. Classes resumed on August 10th. Not for me though. I haven't picked up a job yet. Oh, the opportunities are there, but I got a part-time job to supplement my income, and since I'm training there, I decided to put subbing on hold for a bit. I guess I'm going to go back this week, but the Lord KNOWS my mouth isn't set for it. The feeling of venturing into the unknown with each new sub assignment, trying to follow lesson plans, dealing with student attitudes, the algebraic ice cream money process...UGH. I don't hate it; I'm just not ready. I need to pray for strength to get my hind parts into some school SOMEwhere this month so that I won't jack up my pay. (If you don't start subbing during the first month of school, your pay will be late. I don't need that.)

But yeah, I have a part-time job. An old friend/co-worker from the Retail Cesspool got me on at a home improvement store where he's currently an assistant manager. Actually, he messaged me back in March regarding this opportunity for which I thanked him graciously but was secretly hoping to be modeling or to have won the Powerball by summer. I know; I'm delusional. Anyways, I had to go crawling back in June to see if there was any possible way they could squeeze this little birdy onto the payroll, and they did. So I will just take it as the blessing it is and try to be the best little cashier Hammers, Nails, & Sh*t has ever seen.

I've learned a lot since I've been there (3 weeks). Of note:
1. Home improvement is a thing. I'm sure you knew this, but I'm an odd duck, ok?! I'd heard of this company before but all I ever thought of in terms of their products were hammers, nails, and (the only thing I ever bought there) light bulbs . Certainly not the lumber, plumbing accessories, large appliances, electrical zip zoodles, project assistance, and everything else they sell. Builders, electricians, landscapers, and plumbers in my hometown have contracts with them. Believe it or not, I actually enjoy trying to imagine what awesomeness is going to be added on to someone's home based on their purchases. It really has opened a whole new world to me--that I will never fully understand because I ain't trying to stay there longer than a year. Hopefully I won't get fired though. Three terminations in 15 months will do me for life.

2. There's a thriving Amish community here. Did NOT know that. I love waiting on the Amish guys. They're so handsome and mannerable. I would LOVE to know where they get their pants. I bet they're homespun, (I have no clue) but I love that crisp blue denim*ish fabric. Seriously, I want a pair for myself, but I would never fix my mouth to ask them about it because I don't think the women in their world wear pants. It would be highly irregular for me to express to them my desire for a pair, I'm sure *laugh emoji*.

3. There are a LOT of good looking men in my town--including the Amish ones. There are also some really gross ones that seem to have an affinity for Shellybirds *eye roll*. Since I strive to be "as cute as I can be" (Thanks, Oprah!) every time I leave the house, I've gotten more male attention as an employee of Hammers, Nails, & Sh*t than I have in a month of Sunday's. Is my dry white season over? Alas, it is not, but I can survive on the meager ego boosts that I get there...for now.

4. I was at the Retail Cesspool for 13 years, and have a pretty sharp sense of when there's going to be some sort of upheaval. When I first got hired at the cesspool, we could wear whatever we wanted (within reason) except jeans. But in keeping with that unwritten rule of the universe--We Cannot Have Nice Things--some people went above and beyond the call of bama a few too many times and the navy blue/khaki dress code was put in place. These days, most retailers have a dress code. There was already one at the Retailtopia when I got hired there, the store name embroidered on our navy polo shirts. (Two of those went directly from the washing machine to the trashcan dripping wet after I was informed by phone that I was terminated. I was doing laundry at the time...and I'm petty.) I feel in my heart that Hammers, Nails, & Sh*t is on a runaway train to Dresscodesville. I think they're among the last retailers (not including upscale stores) that don't have one. A change is a-coming.

Oh, AND we cashiers basically just stand around waiting for customers between customers. That WAS NOT allowed at my other retail jobs. If you didn't have customers, you had to straighten merchandise near your register or stock it. If that was taken care of and it was a slow day, you'd find yourself in the sales floor helping with whatever.  Cell phone use on the sales floor was forbidden while working. Technically, it's not allowed at HN&S either. The HR manager warned me about this during orientation and said that they had an issue with it that they were going to address. That was probably my warning not to do what I see other people doing because I've watched 2 cashiers in particular stand at their registers texting like their souls' salvation depends on them hitting "send".  This is a daily thing for them, and no one ever says anything. A change is a-coming though.

So, there's that. I'm in retail AGAIN, and my buttcheeks STILL clench every time I log on to the substitute teacher's database. Nothing to see here; move it along.

*UPDATE* It's now Sunday evening, and after my shift at HN&S, I logged on to Aesop and got a sub assignment for tomorrow. It's a half-day, taking over for a parapro. Baby steps, y'all.

I Posted on Facebook Tonight

I'm switching things up a bit. Usually I direct people who stumble upon my Facebook companion page to this little spot, but I posted there tonight. The idea for the post came to me suddenly after reading the news and before I knew it, my thumbs were flying. So head on over to my Facebook page for a short, bittersweet read about my childhood experience with the death of a classmate during summer vacation. 

Crappy Apps, Ipsy, and Other Such Minutiae....

*Damn it STRAIGHT to hell, this is my
THIRD ATTEMPT with this post. We can put a man in the moon and elect a Black president, but can't tweak a blog app that saves your content as you type?! Okay! THAT'S why it's no longer on my phone. It was free anyway so I guess I got EVERYTHING I paid for. I am so f*cking pissed right now, hence the salty language that I don't use ·too· often. Sorry/NOT sorry. I guess if the the 3rd time is a charm, this incarnation of my post will be f*cking spectacular. SMDH. I've got to get a laptop...
And I know some horrible, heartbreaking things have transpired over the last month. My blog has never been "topical" though, and I won't address those issues in this post. It's certainly not because I don't care. Right now I just feel the need to hide behind a fluffy cloud of minutiae where there's no danger of getting shot by cops or terrorists and Donald Trump isn't running for president.*

*sigh...again, with feeling* I've haven't posted since May! I guess summer break extends to blogging as well, for me anyway. In all honesty, I actually grounded myself from doing the writing I WANT to do until I completed the writing that I NEED to do. Let me just tell you right now that it ain't working. I'm my own hardheaded child. Smh. For what it's worth, I do occasionally slap something up on my Facebook companion page.

That said, guess who's an Ipsy subscriber? I am. Their ad kept popping up on my Facebook page singing the cyber siren song of quality makeup dirt cheap. I mean, 5 samples a month for $10, no shipping, in a cute makeup bag to boot??? TAKE MY MONEY (in increments of $10)!!!!!

My July Glam Bag...

Ever since my mom "turned me loose" in my teen years and allowed me to wear makeup, I've been all about some lipstick/gloss, the darker the better. It's my THING; I never leave home without it. That's why I subscribed to Ipsy. I'm really feeling these  hyper-pigmented "lippies" that are all the rage (although I can do without the matte finishes; I like a shiny lip). How many lip products have I received since I've been a subscriber? Not a DANG one. And this is in spite of the fact that I have done and REDONE my subscriber profile. In my 3 months of subscriberhood, I've received 3 eyeliners--a product I NEVER use, 2 bronzers that won't show up on my bronze skin, 3 makeup brushes that I can learn learn to like, and some creepy one-piece face masks that will make me look like either Leather Face from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre...or a klansman.

NOPE.

I never asked for ANY of that shyte. I've also received some eyeshadows which I can work with, but I didn't request those either. My favorite product to date is a sample size of a perfume called Remarkable People, the receipt of which got my hopes up, but I only received perfume once. It smells DIVINE though. I'd never heard of it before so I googled. A full-size bottle would run y'all $140, and I said "y'all" because I don't have that kind of money, sooooo *WINNING*.

Now Ipsy does offer a disclaimer stating that they don't guarantee that subscribers would receive the exact products/brands that they requested, but...NEVER? We are paying for this stuff, you know. In one of my Ipsy emailings, they informed me that I could increase my chances of getting my preferred products by doing reviews (the portal to which is in the Glam Bag preview email). I shouldn't have to "review" products that I never use and thus didn't ask for just to get some lipstick that I told them I wanted from the jump.  I guess I'll try it before cancelling my subscription to see if it actually changes anything. But I'm certainly not doing any unboxing/review vids, if that's also what they meant. I just feel like makeup tutorials, unboxing vids, and product review vids (which are all over YouTube and enjoyable enough until they become annoying) are for young people. I am 44. I have yet to see one of those vids by someone who doesn't look like they're young enough to be my kid. (Middle-aged women might be doing them, but I haven't seen it.) I just want some friggin' lip product!!! I SWEAR sometimes I think I ask too much of LIFE.

I've voiced my complaints on social media in the most non-bitchy way possible--and that took extreme effort. I scoured the nets to see if other women had the same concerns. I finally stumbled upon an Ipsy swapsie group, and the makeup angels sang...But not for long. The premise of the group is to swap your unwanted products with someone else who has something you do want.  I was so looking forward to the chubby lippies rolling in as I rolled the eyeliner and bronzer out. I guess the group is fairly new because the other night the page admin/creator asked us members if we had any ideas for group rules. Seems like she would have already set that up 10 Commandments style since, you know... TOTAL STRANGERS WILL BE SWAPPING COSMETICS, but nah. The only response came from this one forward-thinking chick who posted, "No swapping cosmetics that have already been opened." The admin didn't respond, and no other rules were suggested, no rules posted. Oh, but yesterday, the admin posted a pic of a tube of cupcake frosting-pink lip gloss (gloss all smeared on the tube) with the caption, "New, only swatched." Um, honey, I don't think "new" means what you think it means in this instance.

Not the actual pic from the group, but you get the idea.

RIGHT.

I have funny ways. That's not gonna work. I've revisited the post several times and no one voiced any objection. As a matter of fact, one chick expressed interest in swapping. Now I'm not trying to be shitty, but ew. Just ew. So, until some ground rules are established in that group to keep us swappers herpes-, conjunctivitis-, and cat hair-free (hey, I don't know these people), I'm just gonna lay low unless someone wants to swap some perfume. I have a beautiful millennial cousin who probably knows how to do that cat's eye trick with eyeliner and would appreciate some free stuff.

*UPDATE* I checked the group again today and the rules are slowly creeping in. One member also suggested only swapping new unopened items, but said it was ok if they'd been swatched. Lordt.