This post is going to have more links than a pitbull’s kennel. You have only yourselves to blame, though, as I am quite overwhelmed with the outpouring of compassion from so many people, most who may never stop by this way again but did because of their support for Mary Scarlet, Alexa, Thalia, Suzanne, Leggy or Pamplemousse (if I missed someone, please give me a shout).
But to those who routinely bear with my incoherent rants or low-brow viewpoints on life, I thank you. If I think about it too long, I get all verklempt and have to attempt typing with one hand while the other wipes the snot from my nose with a thoroughly used tissue. A special thank you to those you who said if I needed anything I just needed to let you know. I’ll just address those offers right now with the following list:
Ø Any used, but in good condition, follicles/egg/embryos that you have lying around.
Ø Any used, but in good condition, sperm that you have lying around. ...Oh, ewww. On second thought, scratch that.
Ø Any baby that you happen to find on the back shelf or attic can be sent to me. I’ll pay the postage. Will accept “As Is”.
Ø Cash and/or gift cards are always welcome.
Now what are the odds that I would be tagged by two different people, for the same dang meme? So I will dispose of the meme issue and I will in turn tag six people who I either know will (probably) not participate as they don’t know me from the man on the moon; or because they are relatively new and need to go through a meme-hazing.
Six Weird Things About Me
1.) I am fascinated with feet. My feet. My son’s feet. My husband’s feet. Everyone’s feet. If I was to select a subject for a photo project, I would pick feet and I would photograph them in black and white.
2.) I am a staunch defender of the noon meal being called “Dinner” and the evening meal, “Supper”. If you are the type who says “Lunch” and “Dinner” respectively, then I automatically assume you are an urbanite snob (which of course makes me a backwoods country bumpkin).
3.) I love cracking my knuckles, but I can only crack the joints on the first two fingers of each hand. It drives Mr. DD IN-sane.
4.) I don’t “do” oral sex.
5.) Those perfect eyebrows everyone seems to think I have? Weekly waxing leaves too much opportunity for the two to merge, so I pluck. Everyday.
6.) The song “You are My Sunshine” makes me cry. It always has. It’s especially true now. Sing the song to yourself and you’ll understand why and probably find your bottom lip quivers.
OK. Not so much weird but puzzling at the most.
Tagging the following six:
Suzanne at Palatial Squalor
Well-Heeled Mom at Stiletto
The Queen Mama at The Queen Mama
LaLa at LaLa Land
Schmutzie at Milk Money or Not
Susan at In A Holding Pattern
In my next highly anticipated post, I will dish on Confabulous II: The Drinkening.
And I expect each and every one of you to make sure you continue the generous displays of support for Nina who was brought down HARD by what happened with her first IVF. The slump continues in the Craptastic World of Infertility.
Personal factoid: See above numbered list.
Wednesday 26 April 2006
No. 173 - What Stage of Grief Would You Call It When One Completes a Meme?
Posted on 13:14 by binu
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