Delores Melon

http://deloresmelon.blogspot.com/

I’ve had more than one incident with trying to get wordpress to load. It’s HIGHLY annoying. Therefore we’ve moved. (I really don’t know why I use “we”.. as it is only me.. but I feel more important to be thought of as a group entitiy, indulge me)

Five dollars and I’ll give you the new link….

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

i found this today: Scoop on Poop Feel free to read that at your leisure, but one thing that really concerned me was this little blurb:

“….poop emerges loaded with bacteria and sometimes other life forms.”

I’m going to be honest here…. that scares me a great deal. Am I shitting out aliens?

Do women experience “wet dreams” too? Can women experience a true orgasm in their sleep?

Delores

**remember to check Don’t Expect Much for Melanie’s response…..

I have this friend. Wait.. lately, I have LOTS OF FRIENDS. Hells yeah. But we’re not discussing that at the moment. This is a dear old friend. She’s way old too. LOL Ok, so she has this blog. Read it here: Don’t Expect Much. We’re going to try something new and do a blog style Q & A. I’m going to ask a lot of the absurd questions that pop into my head and she’s going to try not to cry and answer them as best she can. heh heh.

So.. keep an eye out for that. *wink wink*

I just heard today from my IM. So far the egg donor has 19 follicles.. which means there are potentially 19 eggs. They did say the follicles were just a bit smaller than they wanted so they’ve increased her meds and this might only set us back a day or so. No biggie. We’ll know more about eggs and follicles on Friday. Fingers crossed.

I was told today I have a “beautiful” uterine lining. Please please… hold the applause. I have been injecting strange things into my body in recent weeks and today, I knew it was worth it. So, here’s what’s up wit all dat….

Basically my IP’s are using a new egg donor this go round. They are also doing a shared donor cycle which means they and two other couples are using the same donor. Now, because my IP’s already have a child they are knocked to the bottom of the list. So, if the egg donor doesn’t produce a certain amount of eggs, my IP’s are out this cycle. Yeah, I know right. BOO.

Let’s just assume things work out fine. In fact, let’s meditate a moment and bring calm to this blog post. Thank you. Now, when things work according to plan, we go to transfer either June 3rd or June 5th. Squirtin the ole embryo into the ole baby baker. That sounds crass.

In other news, I’m planning the worlds largest yard sale ever. Planning being the operative word here. What I’ll manage is probably just a ho hum yard sale. I am so sick of my decor, and the funny thing is.. I really don’t even have a “decor”. I have crap slung around. I’m sick of my dishes, but I can’t really afford the money to get a new one or the energy necessary to pick out a design. I’m ultra anal and it would take months to pick a decent design. So I’m selling all the extra fluff from my pattern that I don’t use. Like saucers. Who the hell uses saucers? That and my useless canister set. It’s not even AIR TIGHT. How am I supposed to store my sugar if bugs can just climb right in? Tell me please. I’ve eaten buggy sugar before. It ain’t so sweet.

I also seem to have an abundance of hermit crab supplies. That’s mildly embarrassing to admit. My in laws took Thing 1 to the beach one year and brought him back with a hermit crab. Shouldn’t you run these things by the PARENTS before you do that. Me being the ridiculous individual that I am, insisted on providing a mansion for this hermit crab. We somehow ended up with 22 crabs at one time. That was our peak crab population.

So this should be an interesting yard sale.

I love when I lose my train of thought mid blog post. YAY for ADD!

Man and I met in an ONLINE CHAT ROOM. That’s me emphasizing the point. I think I’ve discussed this previously but in case I didn’t I’ll try to recap briefly. I was doing my normal AOL “*insert my state here*’s chat room” shenanigans and apparently, so was Man, from the comfort of his room. He, however, was showing his cousin the fun to be had online. So somehow we started chatting in a private room. Which isn’t nearly as dirty and nasty as it sounds. What I did not realize though, is that I was chatting with two people. Not one.

They combined the finer points of each of them into this persona. Unfortunately I was completely annoyed by this “person”. I definitely remember telling him I lived in bumblefuck, *insert my state here*. I’m so eloquent. I didn’t learn until later that he was a prude that didn’t use “harsh” language. Whatever. For some reason, though, I was intrigued all the same. We chatted for weeks and I eventually found out about the initial LIES. Man got me straight on the facts that pertained to him. I honestly couldn’t stand him those early chats. His ego was astounding. Still is. At least now I can withhold sex to spite him.

So after a few weeks of mindless chatting, we upgraded to the telephone. That’s when I started to soften. Although he would imitate his DOG TALKING.. which was pretty damn annoying and I remember telling him not to do that anymore. It annoyed me that much, I remember it thirteen years later. So, we chat, then talk, then agreed to meet. By this time, though, I was pretty much mush for him. I don’t know what changed but it did. My parents could tell I wasn’t nearly as nasty as I normally was. I don’t think I was farting flowers or anything but I wasn’t kicking puppies either.

We planned to meet at the mall that was pretty much equal distance to both of us. I figured a mall was safe since most serial killers don’t massacre their victims outside of Sears. Although, how convenient would that be… run into Sears, but a chain saw, hack up the body in the parking lot with brand new chain saw. You could handle any returns immediately should your brand new chain saw have trouble cutting through the skull. I digress.

What I remember about our first meeting: I parked near his vehicle without knowing which was his. I was really shocked how good looking he was, since the picture he sent almost made me change my AOL account information. He had REALLY NICE LEGS. *still does.. heh heh…* I remember this but it’s fuzzy… apparently we were discussing how people that live in his hometown are notorious for missing a lot of teeth, and he showed me that he’s chock full of pearly whites. Like, he grinned this crazy person grin to prove he wasn’t a true hillbilly. Swear to god.

What HE remembers: I wore a skirt with sneakers. In my defense I wore Keds. It’s totally OK to do that AND this was the nineties. He’s now my official fashion consultant. He remembers that I made him go shopping with me prior to the movie so I could buy an ugly skirt. That’s what he remembers. My skirt and sneaker faux pas and ugly skirt fetish. He also remembers what he wore.

So we went to dinner first. I ordered a stuffed baked potato. I am positive I went for that because whenever I go somewhere that even slightly involves anxiety, my intestines form a revolt. I could go a week with no food, barely any water and if someone invited me to a public gathering, magic poo would form in my bowels and cause me to have diarrhea. All NIGHT. Anyway, he ordered the same thing because allegedly, he couldn’t think straight and just ordered what I ordered.

After dinner we went to a movie, The Rock I believe. A good movie. He didn’t talk through it. I might have. We didn’t make out. Remember, he’s mister goody two-shoes. Plus we weren’t fourteen years old. After the movie we laughed when we realized how close we parked. I tried to show him my tattoos.. on my boob and pelvis. He recalls me throwing myself at him. I recall being miffed he didn’t want to see my tattoos. He kissed me on the cheek.

I drove home and called my mom on my cell phone that was as big as a shoe (nineties, remember) and said “hubba hubba”. Yes, I really said that.

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