No. 173 - What Stage of Grief Would You Call It When One Completes a Meme?
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.
posted by DD @ 4/26/2006 01:14:00 PM
11 Socked it to me!
11 Punches:
You know you can share my eggs any time...hell I'll share the cost too, but you might have to wait a few months. There is so much crap in blogland right now, it just tears me up.
I love feet too, especially baby feet.
Amen about dinner and supper. Being married to a Yank, well, its a common argument in our house.
"Sunshine" is a damned sad song.
Darlin', I'd give you every last one of my eggs. As far as I'm concerned, I have no further use for them. Sadly, being over 30, overweight, diabetic, and anemic, my eggs are considered ...well... scrambled, I guess. But, you know, they're good with ketchup...
~Tracy
(formerly of about damn time)
Poor Nina, poor you.
"Sunshine" is a sad song- I think it was written by a former Gov of Louisiana. Hope you are hanging in there.
I'm glad you said no to used sperm, because I almost lost my dinner at that one. Being a Yank, dinner is consumed at approximately 6 p.m. in my house. Lunch is around 1 p.m. Although occasionally dinner is called supper, lunch is never called dinner.
I would be happy to give you some eggs if I could manage to get some useful ones out. But as they're not doing me any good, I'd feel bad about giving you a defective product.
"You are my sunshine" is sad. I don't sing it to P because it makes me cry.
The other hand should be lifting a cup of wine, not a tissue. At least first, for the antioxidant effect.
While I'd share my eggs I'm not so sure mine are all that up to snuff. Definitely can say the uterus isn't up to snuff... So not sure if my sharing would be the right thing to do... So yeah would share if able. Don't have any spare laying around though. At least not that I can gaurantee the quality of. Will keep you in mind though.
As for the eyebrow thing... more power to you to actually pluck daily. I have a similar problem and when I walk into my work bathroom and go - crap I have a unibrow I go and get them waxed - probably should pluck daily though.
Up here in Montana, home of the Unabomber and the Freemen (urbanite snobs, indeed!!!) we have lunch and dinner, unless you live on a farm or a ranch, in which case the noon meal is dinner because it's the big meal of the day.
I do believe that is the longest sentence ever.
Ooops, I am an urbanite snob! Eeeek! Glad to see you posting, sweetie.
You are my sunshine is my college song and I sing it to my son all the time. Always makes me tear up as well. I am really sorry the second IVF didn`t work out.
dd, I'm so sorry things did not work out, and so sorry your bucket is empty. I don't blame you for feeling crappy, and I'm sure your faith is feeling pretty bruised as well. Just feel what you need to feel for a while.
Even though I won't be posting anymore, I'll still be dropping by to lend support, and I think you know how to find me via e-mail if you need to.
And just for you, I'll do the meme.
Six weird things about me:
1. Since you mentioned feet, my little toes curl under, and my 2nd-3rd toes are slightly webbed.
2. I always count the number of stairs in a flight.
3. I always have to make one last trip to the bathroom before I go to bed.
4. I have near-perfect pitch. Which doesn't translate to singing phenomenally or anything, I can just think of a song and start singing it in the right key.
5. My ears are uneven by maybe as much as a quarter-inch, meaning any glasses sit crooked unless I get the earpieces adjusted.
6. I love the smell of all kinds of melons, but hate the texture of them.
I have take you up on the meme. See? It wasn't all for naught.
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