Wednesday, August 24, 2016

That time I found out everyone I trust is a liar.

I have more online friends than "real life" friends. This is just a fact. When Peter left for his mission I was added into the "missionary girlfriend" community. I made close friends with girls in similar situations with me, and now about 98% of the people I'm close to are fellow former MGs. They helped me through the last time Peter and I were apart, and then this summer they helped me through our second big separation.

One of those friends contacted me in late June with a plan. She asked me if I could take off four days in August for a girls trip with her and two of my other close friends. I was THRILLED. I immediately texted my husband to tell him this was happening. He responded, so kindly, with a "I don't think we can afford that."

I was furious, and openly so. I told him I had been alone all summer, and if my friends wanted to get together with me, then I should be able to go. Forget money, even if I have to eat nothing the entire trip, I was going. He begrudgingly agreed and the conversation was dropped.

As the trip got closer, I became more defiant about it. I was almost certain that these three friends had taken pity on my husband-less self and planned this trip to give me company. I wasn't going to skip it. I was telling everyone about it, I was texting the three girls coming on the trip planning exactly how many times we would be going to McDonalds, and I had finally done my laundry so that I could actually wear underwear again.

I was leaving for my trip on Sunday August 14th. That Saturday night I picked up my friend Alaire from the airport, and she had spent the night. We went to church together, but left before 3rd hour as she was feeling unwell. When I get to my apartment door anytime I have been gone, I open it before removing my shoes so that my sweet Baymax can come running through the door and I can see his precious face. On this day, I did just that, but was surprised when there was a delay in the puppy's arrival. I called out to him and he appeared, but running from the left, not from the right where the living room is. This worried me greatly. What had he done in the bedroom?

As I looked to my left to investigate, my husband appeared from the bedroom. My first emotion was shock and fear. Why was there a man in my apartment, and why was he walking towards me? Second, I felt confusion. HOW was Peter there? Was he going back to DC to finish his internship? Realistically, the confusion stayed with me for probably the next two hours, and it began with some serious questions.

"I'M LITERALLY LEAVING TOWN TODAY," I told him, "Katie is coming in 3 HOURS and we're leaving!!"

"No, you're not," Peter laughed.

"No, I really am," I said, pointing to my wall calendar which I live and die by.

P: "Well, you're going, but you're going with me."

M: "I'm not doing anything with them?"

P: "No. Well, maybe later. But not now."

M: "Do they know this??"

and the whole rotten story came out. I was never going on a girls trip, it was Peter all along. Apparently Katie was a cover story for an early returning Peter, and he had booked us 4 days of hotel and activity in Salt Lake City. The flight information I had for two weeks away was a lie, and everyone I regularly interact with knew about it. More than that, everyone I regularly interact with had funded it. Katie had formed an online group of generous MG angels (and Peter) and had raised some money for us to go have wild raucous sex a delayed anniversary celebration together.

After this plan had been revealed to me, I came to realise that everyone knew about the lie that was my life. They listened to my countdowns knowing that I was wrong, they planned a girls trip with me knowing we wouldn't be going. If it wasn't for such a sweet cause, I'm sure I'd be furious.

So there's the tale for any one still wondering.

Sunday, December 6, 2015

Life Facts According to Baymax.

For anyone still not in the know, Peter and I are dog owners.

I'm assuming most have figured out that I have anxiety, due to the title of this blog, so this isn't a surprise, but guys... I have anxiety. (whew, so good to get that off my chest!)  I am also a heavily medicated individual. Since 2010 I have been on Effexor with sometimes other pills being pulled into the mix. This summer I started having multiple daily panic attacks, and so when we got to Utah I met with a psychiatrist who added Gabapenton to the routine. Through our meetings he found out that I have always had nightmares, which recently had been triggering middle of the night panic attacks. Thus a new pill was added. Welbutrin was also added to balance out some bad side effects of the Effexor, and now I'm a pill guzzling junkie.

Before all these pills were added, my psychiatrist and I tried to decrease my Effexor to see if I would be able to function on a low dose. This experiment crashed and burned very hard. My racing thoughts, panic, deep depression, and compulsive hair pulling doubled, so we put me back to my original dose.

There is a purpose to all this, I swear, even though I am getting very distracted from the point of this post.

Peter and I are not trying for kids; we really can't right now. My high doses of multiple medications mean that any pregnancy would be very very dangerous for that foetus. We have decided we will start trying once we finish our Masters and I begin my PhD. Doing so means that I will need to be off my pills, and that means I will likely be a mess. I am terrified of doing this, but I want to be able to give Peter a child that he so desperately wants, and I know I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I chose to stay on meds that significantly hurt a baby.

Enter Baymax. 

I adore dogs. If you don't know this about me, you probably are a stranger that just somehow stumbled onto my blog. Through the help of my therapist, the university accessibilities office, and Wymount housing, I was approved to get a dog as an emotional support animal. Animals and tending for animals, has been linked with lessening depression, anxiety, and also PTSD, (although I do not have that). Our wonderful puppy Baymax, who we adopted last month, is stepping in to help me both with my current issues, and the ones that will arise when I go drug free. Peter says I already seem a lot better.

Wow, okay, so I did not intend to write any of that, but I figured I might as well explain things. Why not? I'm gonna be a therapist, and we're always encouraging people to own their mental health struggles. *Power fist!*

Life with a puppy has been wonderful. The dog we brought home from the store was timid and did not like us touching him, but now that Stockholm syndrome has fully taken affect, he is a happy and playful puppy. Every day Peter and I learn a new life fact according to Baymax, and in honour of his first bath, which he’s still mildly upset at us for, I present to you some of his top ones.

  • Leaves are awesome. As many as can be collected should be chewed on and brought inside where they belong.
  • Hair is equally as important as leaves, whether on the floor or on the head of a person, it is the same.
  • People cannot know that you love them unless your tongue goes all the way up their nose holes. The farther up, the greater the love. Do not allow them to resist. 
  • Humans must be tended while they use the bathroom. You may either sit and wait until they are done, or check in every 2 minutes. Either is sufficient.
  • When you poop or piddle outside, you get a treat. To make sure the human knows you need your treat, maintain eye contact and lick your lips while you go. It isn’t creepy.
  • Anything put in the food bowl must be avoided at all cost. Food is good when it is held by a human, but in the bowl it is useless. Only if you are close to starvation can you touch what is in the bowl.
  • When you greet someone, you must touch their face. All faces should be touched frequently. (**Touching the face also helps them stop resisting the tongue in the nose.**)  
  • If someone has an easy time using a thing, they will not appreciate it. Steal brushes, socks, curlers, papers and computer mice (while they are being used) and run around until they catch it. Now they will appreciate what they have.
  • When someone is doing the dishes, help out by licking their ankles.
  • No one can make you take a walk when you don't want one. Straining against the leash long enough will help you slip out of the harness and run home. They will respect your decisiveness.
  • Deer poop is excellent for sniffing. Maybe even a tentative lick.
  • All strangers want to pet you and they need to be able to. If you see a stranger on a walk, sit down until they are close enough to run to (with your paws up and ready for face touching). Even if the stranger is walking in the opposite direction sit and wait; they could come back.
  • Vacuums are satan, but brooms are friends. Chase the broom whenever possible and scavenge the piles it makes for leaf bits and hair balls. Both are toys that should not be disposed of.
  • If a toy has been purchased for your use, ignore it. The true toys are plastic bags, ball pit balls, soft hair curlers, toothbrushes, clothes, leaves, and hair. 
This is definitely not my best picture, but I love how Baymax looks like he's saying, "Who meeee?" in a Betty Boop-ish voice.
Work it, boy. 

Sunday, August 9, 2015

I am only here out of guilt.

Aloha you majestical tyrants of the world.

I am writing this beautiful blog post in my new apartment in *drum roll* Provo Utah! *horn goes wah wah waaaaahhhhhhhh*.
After a fanciful adventure across the east coast, Peter and I have settled into our home for the next five years while I complete my PhD. in Marriage and Family Therapy and he does his masters in Public Administration. We're very excited.

It's obviously been a long time since I blogged which is due to a variety of things: discouragement that I'm a terrible blogger, sadness over leaving Hawaii, busyness in adventuring, and then guilt for not knowing how to summate my life into a readable post. So know this. I am here out of guilt. LOVE ME FOR IT.

Immediately after leaving Hawaii we headed over to Pennsylvania to reunite with the Gregory clan in all its entirety. Here's a fun fact about my life: I married into a family quite different from my own. Even though my father and father-in-law are incredibly similar to each other, and my two mothers seem like they could be distant cousins in many ways, the actual families function like two very distinct and unique cultures.

My family is a fan of things happening when they happen. Sure, we will have a brief concept of a meet up, but plans are rarely meticulously sculpted before they happen. You come here, and I'll meet you there, and life will go as it goes. This is the Meservy way. Not so the Gregorys.

Upon arrival to the reunion each family was presented with a swag bag containing chocolates, T-shirts, and a bound itinerary. As it turns out, I don't have a photograph of this itinerary, nor do I still have it, because blasphemy. Obviously. But, every day was planned out and organised in each page. Each of the 34 family members had a bio, shower schedules were outlined, daily menus planned, and activities had a timetable.

We interrupt your previously scheduled blog post for a poorly placed flashback. 

In 2011 when Peter went home to Seattle to prepare for his mission, I Skyped with him daily. Through these daily chats, I met his little sister Shanna. After he left for Japan, Shanna and I kept in touch, and through a series of strange decisions, I was invited to come to Seattle for Thanksgiving with the family.
Upon hearing that I flew out to meet my husband's family alone while he was on his mission and before we were even engaged most people say "Why?" To them I answer, "because I was insane."

The entire trip I received many texts from my sister and friends asking if I had broken the toilet yet, seeing as that was my biggest fear about the entire trip. I believe they were mocking me with their checkups, but honestly, who can blame me for being terrified?! Wouldn't that just be the worst impression to ever leave with the family of the boy you're in love with? Prior to my trip I spent hours talking with my therapist about my genuine terror of clogging the Gregory family toilet. Such a thing would have been especially terrible had Peter and I ended up breaking up and not being friends post mission.

Gregory family member: "Hey, Peter. Do you remember that one girl who was so in love with you that she came out to see us while you were on your mission?"

Peter: "Oh yeah... I remember her. She was fun."

GFM: "Yeah, she was... fun. Although she broke the toilet."

Peter: "She what?"

GFM: "We never told you that? Oh yeah. She went to the bathroom and then didn't come out for like an hour. We heard screams and water splashing, and when she finally came out she just begged us to forgive her. The toilet was totally busted."

Peter: "Busted how? Like, broken? or clogged?"

GFM: "Yes. Any way that a toilet can potentially be broken. The poop was everywhere, and the seat was just destroyed. We essentially had to completely redo the upstairs bathroom all because your girlfriend has toilet issues."

Peter: "Wow. Dodged a bullet there."


Anyway, luckily I didn't poop the entire weekend (just kidding, I'm pretty sure I had normal bowel movements (I know you were concerned)) and people loved me, and Peter and I later got all murried and stuff, so really this family reunion was amateur hour compared to my 2011 introduction.

Therefore, my nerves regarding this family get together had less about breaking toilets and more about whether I would go mad after a week and a half of close family time with the in-laws. Turns out, I will not go mad, and the Gregorys are a good clan to be a part of. I spent most of my time snuggling cute niblings and observing the adults interact, much like an anthropologist except I wasn't being mauled for touching the cubs. Here are my top five lessons learned about the Gregory folks.

1. If Fiddler on the Roof is playing, you sing along. It doesn't matter what time it is.
The earliest rendition of the musical I experienced was at 6:30am on a Thursday. I have high hopes that I will never hear Matchmaker this early again for as long as I live.

2. Dog piles are a constant presence.
I really have never witnessed as many dog piles in my life. Quick way to end one, is for me to get involved, seeing as I was new enough for people to still be furtive around me. First rule of dog piles: You must be a seasoned Gregory in order to participate.

3. Gregory women cluck like roosters/hens when they laugh together.
I can't believe I never audio recorded this phenomenon. I have only my own attempts to replicate it.

4. When playing a game, if you're not willing to lose all your friends, you're not playing hard enough.
Competition runs hard in the family. Don't start what you're not willing to give everything to finish.

5. Everyone yells. A lot.
This is something I assume most large families can relate to. With eight Gregory siblings, seven Gregory spouses, and several litters of Gregory spawn, voices get loud and stay that way. You must be heard to be part of the herd.

I am grateful to have married in to such a wonderful and loving family. Many people complain about their in-laws, but I'm blessed to have it pretty fantastic.

Tuesday, June 2, 2015

Boo, you horcrux

I have another illness. It's one that is ruining my voice and making me very sleepy but restless. Sick voices are pretty amusing, though, and so today's blog post is a video one. MY VERY FIRST VLOG, kinda sorta. Anyway, enjoy. We discuss horcruxes.

Saturday, May 30, 2015

I'm dyeing over here!

Wanna know how to look like a superfly rockstar? Lemme tell you.

I've been dyeing my hair purple since December of last year. Originally the plan was to dye my entire head of hair purple but then Peege was all, "I'd really prefer it if you didn't," and I said, "okay, darling, but that means don't grow a moustache" and he was like, "no problem, can't anyway." Communication, people. The best.

I have never been the greatest at dyeing my hair, (even though I enjoy doing it), and in trying to dye the ends of my hair every two months I found that I would magically turn my bathroom, chest, and hands all totally purple for a week afterwards. (TADAHHHH!) It was always totally worth it, but embarrassingly messy. Now, two dye jobs away from needing to stop forever with my purple ways, I have mastered it. Let me show you my punklovin' ways, my peeps.

Step one: Assemble your tools.
You will need the dye of your choice. I wholeheartedly recommend Punky Color brand, but whatever shade you choose is up to you. This month I have opened a new jar (seriously, just one jar lasted me forever, I bought two together in January) and it's Plum. Previously I used Violet, aaaand I think I liked it better. Both smelled lovely, but Plum seems to be pinker.
Aluminium foil.
Wax paper to hold your dyeing goods and keep your counter tops clean.
Plastic/latex gloves. 
A hair dye brush.  
A mindless TV show/movie to keep you occupied. 

Step two: Divide and conquer.

Separate your hair into small sections and begin. Using a square of aluminium foil and your brush, paint dye onto your ends. Just smother it in. Ohhh yeaahhhhh. Attempt to take a photo for your blog, but fail.

Use black gloves for added swagger.
The blurrier the picture, the more action packed the dye job. 

Step three: Foiled!

After applying your desired amount of dye to your desired section of hair, wrap that mofo up. Parcel your hair like it is a Christmas present to your future self. Take more uncomfortable pictures. 

It's hard to take modest pictures when you're secretly naked. 

Ah, yissss. Dye jobs. Foreva. 

 Step four: Treat yo'self!

Take some time to lounge around your house enjoying your guilty pleasures. Write an informative blog post on how to do something ridiculously simple. Let that dye sit and fester. Consider looking up better words than "fester" to describe things on your body.

I do recommend cleaning up your work space immediately after finishing your application process. A lot of the mess that I would previously get happened because I allowed my brush to sit in the drain, or left my gloves drip drying. Use your wax paper to wipe as much dye from your brush as possible (while still wearing your gloves) and then rinse off both gloves and brush in the shower or bathtub until the water runs clear. Allow gloves and brush to air dry on more wax paper. NO DRIP DRYING! You can do it. I believe in you.

Step five: Take a shower.

Hop in the shower and wash yo'self, removing the aluminium foil as you go. You will look sexy fine in no time. No selfie as I post this, because I am still enjoying step four as I type this. Maybe I'll post one later if you're lucky. MAYBE.

Go live your dreams, you majestic land narwhal.

Thursday, May 14, 2015

I'm Too Sexy.

2007 and 2008 were rough years for me. My family moved to Maryland, USA from Harrogate, England where I had lived for as long as I could remember. I missed my town, I missed my friends, I wasn't making friends in my new school, and I really really hated the new school where I had no friends. It was emotional. I also wasn't getting along with my parents. We were waiting for our visas to come through for us to move to Russia, but never knew exactly when they would be coming. Everyday hinged on a question of if and when we would be leaving Maryland to go to the next assignment. I was acting out at home and not being a very pleasant daughter. The fact that my parents didn't throw me out on my butt is a testament to their genuine goodness in itself. 

While I didn't love my school, I had one class that I really did enjoy. My U.S. Government teacher was eloquent and motivating, and his class was the only one I was in where the students were being truly engaged and challenged. One day he was covering unlawful search and seizure, and I was selected to help do a role play for the class. In this role play, another student and I were found in the girls bathroom with a lit cigarette. When asked if we were smoking, I confessed that yes I was while the other girl denied. My role ended with my being handed a referral and told to sit down. 

The referrals at my school were A4 sheets of paper with two carbon copies. They were handed out for any form of disciplinary action to take place. A troublemaking student would receive one, and be sent to the office immediately to get their punishment. The referrals themselves contained the name of the student, name of the teacher, and a description of the reason why the student was being punished. At the office, the principal would fill in the section that said what punishment would be given. I had never received a referral myself, and so being handed a genuine (and blank) golden ticket to the office was incredibly exciting. 

The girl next to me and I decided a prank could be had. We separated the two carbon copies from the main referral sheet and traded them, so we could fill them out for each other in unknown handwriting and show them to our parents. I cannot remember what we said she did, but I remember mine very well. 

"Melece Meservy has been sent to the office for disciplinary action after she started singing "I'm Too Sexy" loudly in the middle of class. When asked to be quiet, she jumped onto her desk, and began to hop from desk to desk across the classroom while swinging her hips in a suggestive manner." 

Under reason for behaviour, we checked the boxes for "attention" and "reason unclear." Action taken was immediate suspension from school and mandatory visitation with a school counselor. 

I knew that there was no point in me trying to trick my dad into believing that this had actually happened, but I was determined that I could con my mother. I worked hard all the way home on the bus to muster up fear and panic in my eyes and voice. I walked slowly into her room where she was laying in bed reading a book. 

"Mom." I said, "I did something bad." I handed her the paper, and watched her attentively. To my disappointment, she laughed. 
"april fools!" She said, handing me back the paper. 


I took my failed prank into the kitchen and chucked it on the table. I made myself a snack and busied myself with my homework (probably, actually reading Twilight or watching TV if I'm honest.) A few hours later, I heard a knock at my bedroom door where I lay reading a book (it wasn't Twilight, though, I remember distinctly.) 

"Hello?" I asked. 
My dad entered the room looking somber. I knew something bad had happened because he came in and immediately closed the door behind him before walking over to sit on my bed. 
"How was your day?" He asked 
"Fine." I answered, as eloquent and quick to share as most 16 year olds talking to their parents.
"Did anything happen?" He responded, still staring me down with the upmost danger in his eyes. 
"No...?" I said, now wondering what I have forgotten about. Catching on, I started to laugh. 
"What I saw out there did NOT seem like a laughing matter, Melece" insisted dad, now getting angry. 
"It was a joke, dad!" I laughed hysterically, "I was trying to get mom, but I NEVER thought I'd get you!" 

This is one of my dad's favourite stories to tell. From his point of view, he says that it was one of those days where nothing at all was going right. He had been faced with incompetent coworkers who really ought to have been competent, and was told once again that it would be a "couple" more months before our visas came through. He came home feeling dejected and exhausted, especially knowing that mom and I were struggling. He came into the kitchen to find an official document telling him that I had lost it. 

"She's gone completely insane," he thought to himself sad, and incredulous. "This is awful. This means I have to punish her, but I don't want to. She must have had a complete psychological break." 

And thus my father entered my room burdened with the task of punishing his officially insane teenage daughter, and I got a wonderful laugh out of a tired and lonely week. 

Monday, May 4, 2015

Caution: may contain condom water part II.

Thanks to sick kids and germs, I was home this afternoon. A Facebook notification came across my feed informing me that a friend had tagged me in a discussion on a post in one of my Facebook groups.

Nina: I just can't look at [condoms] without thinking of when Melece filled one up with like a gallon of water. Then I start laughing and I can't get it outta my head SO THANKS Melece for ruining my condom sex life.

Me (with deepest sympathies and great tact): Bahahahahahahahahahahahaha I regret NOTHING.

and thus began a great adventure. 

Taelor: Melece, did you take a picture of that!?

Melece: Just as I was about to it popped. BUT I AM HOME ALONE NOW. BRB.

Melece: Update: I have now burst two condoms and soaked my bathroom. YOLO.

Because I love and care for the happiness of my friends, I posted a video.  

Here are the resulting comments. (Some comments have been omitted for relevancy's sake, and one has been altered entirely to make sense without explanation/back story. Last names have been removed, but first names remain unchanged. Hopefully no one sues me.) 

Katelyn: This is the best thing I've seen all day.

Melece: Oh my gosh, this isn't even in the right group. Sorry, guys!!!
Also, I forgot to hide the condom wrappers. Peter got home a second ago, went to the bathroom to pee and goes, "WHY ARE THERE TWO USED CONDOMS IN THE TRASH? Melly, have you been playing with condom water?! AGAIN?!"
Me: "Oh, no... I forgot to hide those. I didn't think about you noticing them in the trash"
Peter: "You didn't think I would notice that there are TWO used condoms in the trash of the bathroom that I share with my wife?! I leave the house for three hours and come back to find that my wife has used not one, but both of the condoms that we had remaining in my absence. Well. Done. Melly."

geez husbands these days just don't understand hahaha

Melece: THEY JUST DON'T GET IT!!! Lawl, sorry this video is upside down for half of it. You all need to hire me to be a videographer for your weddings. CLEARLY.

Nina: Also "condom water" hahaha EW

Melece: Peter watching this video: "I love how funny you think you are."

Taelor: hehehehe thanks for the entertainment!

Nina: Also PSA: don't ask your husband if he has any condoms because he will think you mean sex when actually you just wanna copy Melece and play with condom water.

Melece: You're welcome! These condoms were both an extra challenge because they were lubricated, whereas the first time I did this was with an unlubricated condom. It was like playing in expert mode.

Taelor: HAHAHAHA Nina. Way to ruin Ty's dream.

Nina: Geez where were condoms when we were organizing elementary school SCIENCE projects?!

"Lubed vs unlubed condoms: which holds water better?"

Melece: Peter in response to Nina, "yeah, why would anyone use condoms for sex?! he says with a look of puzzlement. A LOOK OF MOCK PUZZLEMENT. It's supposed to look like a penis, but it just looks like a giant water balloon! WAAAAATER FIIIIIGHT. This one is studded for ultimate throwing pleasure. And this one is flavoured so that when it explodes it is delicious! The boxes shouldn't say 'ribbed for her pleasure,' they should say 'can hold three extra gallons of water!"
He is pacing around the apartment ranting at me. hahahahahahahahahahah I'm laughing so hard.

Me: "my hands smell like condoms."

Taelor: Bahahahaha this is the most hilarious thing I've experienced all day!
I need to go buy a condom.

Nina: Hahahahahaha I'm crying. Peter is the best I want to be friends with you guys

Melece: Buy a couple, they burst a lot.

Nina: Taelor considering your current situation that would be such a waste of money

Taelor: Heh heh heh you're right. But I WANNA FILL ONE UP WITH WATER!

Melece: bahahahahahahhahahahahha.
He's reading all these comments over my shoulder, and so he points to Taelor's and goes, "yes, just the one condom. Ask them to take it out of the box. Excuse me, sir, which condom would you recommend for inflation? and by inflation I mean filling it with water. Pretty sure your husband wants to fill one up with a penis."

Nina: "um yeah how much for just ONE condom?"

Katelyn: I need to be writing a paper but THIS IS SO MUCH MORE IMPORTANT!


Melece: bahahahahahahahha. Oh, so THAT'S how you got pregnant.

Nina: "Oh what do you mean they only sell them in multiples?? I JUST NEED ONE SIR! FOR SCIENCE!"

Laura: "Please sir, may I have some more?"

Melece: Peter, pointing to Laura's comment: "now THAT's what your husband wants to hear. *holds belly while chuckling* hah hah hah hah"

Taelor: Hi Peter.  I am smarter than I seem.

Nina: ^ there's an idea for spicing up the bedroom. "Oliver Twist" role play and position. We should write a book.

Melece: hahahahaha! It's okay, the only one he is judging here is me.
Peter: "That's not true"

Sara: Now we're all going to make Peter pace across the apartment and rant

Melece: Peter in a british accent: "I'm the artful dodger!"
now he is squirming around the bed going, "nope! you missed! try again, NOPE! MISSED! I AM SO ARTFUL AT DODGING."

Laura: I think I've found a reason why I need to come out to Utah

Sara: Why do you have to be so far away in Hawaii?!

Taelor: Yeah. Surrsly.....

Melece: Peter: "so.... she wants to come to Utah all because you inflated a condom and I made jokes about dodging a penis. Good day for us." :'D

Taelor: Party!!!!!!

Melece: Hahahahah, it's okay. We'll be there in like two months.

Melece: P: "the main activity? inflating condoms. awwwww yeahhhh."

Melece: P: you don't have to write everything I say.


Melece: hahahaha. I didn't have to. He's reading with me.

Taelor: Oh. HI!

Laura: ::shaking my head::

Melece: My head hurts from laughing. Good talk, ladies. Good talk. Now everyone go do your own experiments and film the results. FOR SCIENCE.

Laura: I will die if I go to a bridal shower this summer, and the question is posed about what the bride is most looking forward to about getting married, because this will be all that I think about lol 😇


Hilary: I'm so glad my serious post resulted to this! Best. Thing. Ever! Now I know what to really do with the 30 box of condoms lying around! :')

The end.