"I will be so mad at you if you gave me syphilis!"

The thing with blogging is it's easy to let a few days pass and wait until you're feeling particularly inspired to lay down some pretty words about gooey things. Which is awesome, because I have those moments a lot more frequently than I do post but the pattern I'm establishing is to only writing smushy stuff. Meg and I are a lot more than smushy...sometimes we're schmoopy, shiny, and silly.

For the last few days, my girl has had herpes...or possibly just some acne breakout on her lip which I affectionally and fearfully refer to as 'the herp' while running away refusing to kiss her. Last night, we went over to my mom's for dinner and Meg got to hear stories of my teenage angst and door-slamming puberty. Next week, I get to meet the majority of Meg's extended family at Thanksgiving dinner where I hope to impress her mom with my ability and desire to contribute to the meal...unlike Meg who has for years relied on dish duty to earn her a spot at the table. Tuesday night, we hauled a treadmill into the house hoping this would inspire us to keep (or get) moving as winter sets in and more of our social events revolve around dinners out. Last week, Meg took a huge step by inviting my kitty, Stuart Little, to live with her...granted, he's moved in before me but I'll assuage my jealousy by looking at his cute face:

The point of all this is that we're normal with normal jobs and normal concerns....that's not to say that I've set us up as extraordinary, but the last few blogs have been so love-gross that I wanted to put some memories down about the normal stuff. The regular day, though, is interrupted by the little moments of goo that take my breath away while the next instant is some mix of giggling and teasing. This is the truth that I love about our life together; busting out laughing as Meg heads into the shower with toothbrush in hand, hearing 'this is my favorite spot' as she curls into my shoulder to cuddle, eating a cold English muffin when she 'forgets' to toast it first, and showing my friends how beautiful she is when she does this:

This is why I love my life. Happy sexiversary and KSG'iversary, love.

"I hope I bought your cell phone the right kind of ring."

My girlfriend keeps having dreams that I propose and slip an ugly, gaudy ring onto her finger. Thing is, I ain't proposing. Yet. The frequency of these dreams is enough to, if I were a boy, make my man parts shrink up inside me and flee in terror. But, since I'm a lesbian, I just smile and make promises not to eff it up when it does happen. Her nightmares include large colored gemstones set into gold, but this whole time I was thinking I'd go with a huge pearl or some quartz, maybe. Eh, I'll decide at some point; I figure if I could string her along with KSG (kinda-sorta girlfriend) status for almost 7 months then I have plenty of time to get down on my knee.

I haven't played the marriage planning thing very much in the past; I was never that little girl who dreamt of her dream wedding and giddily picked out colors with her best friends. Between basketball and cartoons, I was far too busy for all that. But, somehow, as my personal tastes have evolved I know some of the definites already and as Meg and I have giddy conversations about it, I know we're on the same page.

But, until then, our cell phones are the only things that are married in our lives so far. Yesterday, we combined plans and, for my sweet gf, this was a huge step in our relationship. Granted, I took on all the burden and took her plan into mine so it's my neck on the line, but it's still a positive step to tricking Meg into letting me move in and paying off all my bills. ;) I hate that she's been burned in the past by this sort of thing so she's a little wary, but I think each day she sees that I'm not going anywhere and we're doing great.

In other news, and probably a bit more important than all this, is that we just celebrated the election of Barack Obama. My gf and I have been working with the campaign for the last couple months and worked the polls from morning to night together and it was beyond words how wonderful it was to see everything come together on Tuesday night. It's one of those moments in history that you'll always remember where you were and I'm ecstatic that I saw it all happen curled up with Meg in our pjs and in each other's arms. It was one of the most beautiful moments in both our national and my personal history. Thank you, sweet girl, for your hard work and dedication to hope and optimism and for dragging me out to see how each person can impact the whole. We got to see the nation and our state, which hadn't gone blue since 1964, turn into a rainbow of new promise and dedication. And we got to see it together.

"Truly breathtaking."

Got an unintentional reminder today from a friend. She quoted me when I told her sometime in the spring "don't think, just love". Simple words that I've learned to accept the hard way over the years because my brain is often my most exciteable organ (take that how you will). Hearing it again after so many months and after so much has changed made me realize, again, how lucky I am to have Meg in my life.

It's been nearly seven months since my world collapsed in on itself and I sit now counting the blessings of my last couple months knowing well that I didn't think this was possible. I thought there was no recourse for the way my life had gone; I felt wholly alien to myself and one of the deepest senses of shame I have ever experienced. And now, today, I am at work so full and content knowing I am going home to Meg and she will greet me warmly, without pretense and with the most genuine affection you could ever see.

And I know what tomorrow will bring, and this weekend, and in the plans we're making weeks and weeks from now. And I trust that those plans will happen...I trust that nothing will upset this balance and stability that we're enjoying. I know that I will still be in love with her and she will still be in love with me. That's a trust and a truth that I've lacked in a life where I wasn't sure what would greet me on the other side of the door sometimes...and I found myself living that all over again as an adult and feeling the familiarity of chaos and being drawn to the ups and downs as a way to prove myself to someone. But I don't have to prove myself to Meg. She loves me steadily and with no expectation but to return that fidelity, affection and love to her. That's it. Come home, love the way she looks and laughs, dive in to her day and her life with her, and know that I get a chance to do that all over again the next day.

There is a lump in my throat as I type this knowing the beauty of that and, at the same time, questioning how worthy I am of it. I think that's an insecurity we all have when we find something so perfect; sometimes that insecurity leads people to upset that balance purposely so as to avoid the shock of it happening to them. I've done that. I've looked straight into calm eyes and imagined a storm. But I am her raincoat and she is mine. And I know that tomorrow I get to say that again, commit myself again under a new sun, and feel the same from her in a morning's embrace and the first sleepy hello of the day.

"We don't need sleep, baby, we have each other!"

I was inspired recently by this site http://www.onesentence.org/ and thought what a perfect way it'd be to get some of Meg and I's best memories down for posterity.

One sentence stories or flash fiction are near and dear to my heart, both literally and figuratively. In December 2007, I had Ernest Hemingway's shortest story tattooed on my chest. (Yes, I know there is controversy surrounding the attribution to Hemingway and the story behind its creation.)

So, the challenge to write one-sentence synopses of our relationship is just too good to refuse. Here ya go, baby!
************************
I've found the key to my girlfriend's heart is a good meal and a bottle of wine and, as it turns out, she has the same lock on her panties.

I had to wonder what Meg had been telling her when her mom commented astonishedly "well, Nicole is nice".

My cheeks blushed and I sank a little lower in my seat when Meg flippantly commented 'nice tie' totally unaware that her cheeks were aflame for an entirely different reason.

Pinned to the floor and laughing, Meg suddenly recalled the answer to my question.

I felt a personal loss when I learned I could never meet the woman who had so shaped my girlfriend's life, but I know that through Meg I know Gayle firsthand.

Pete and Repeat sat on a fence, Pete fell off, who's left, repeat is all I hear sometimes when my girlfriend is telling a story.

I knew when we climbed the monument stairs that I would tell you I loved you and I know we were both floating all the way back down, and ever since.

Thrown to the wolves, Meg put on a red sweater and a smile and won over every friend I have in one night.

As I stood salvaging what I could of the burnt bacon, I knew that I had signed up for a lifetime in the kitchen.

I think my girlfriend would agree that the best advice she's ever been given is to "pay attention to that".

I could only laugh and shake my head as Heather surveyed my bruises and exclaimed 'damn, I didn't know Meg had it in her!".

Our first kissed tasted like tears but I was already thinking about calling her the next day.

Who knew you could fall more deeply in love listening to your girlfriend proudly match NFL cities and mascots?

Work, Lily, chores, friends, family, bills, volunteering, eating, sleeping, exercising; all things that interfere with cuddle time.

We hit a new stage in our relationship when I propped my leg up on the bathroom sink in front of her for the first time.

It didn't cost me much, but that Facebook ring was the best investment of my life.

When I heard "I was left for a punctuation mark", I saw with absolute clarity Meg's history as a fag hag.

I'm just glad I don't have to give her $5 every time I feel I'm home.

There was something about the way the lights in the lot shined on Meg's wild eyes that would have made even Bob Evans' biscuits rise.

It made no sense for me not to drive Heather home that night, but we both knew what was coming before the elevator doors even opened.

Surrounded by fireworks, patriotic music and the scatterings of a picnic, I couldn't help but reach out to touch her hand.

She warned me that her stepfather wouldn't talk much an hour before I sat listening to a story about his childhood and as she realized, yet again, that she had underestimated my charm.

I never want to go 24 hours without talking to her ever again.

You realize quickly how weird your life is while sitting at your ex-girlfriend's parents house with her boyfriend and your new girlfriend eating cinnamon rolls.

Begging for it, I nearly came when she told me she'd turn me over when she was ready.

My best friend cut right to the chase when she told me to 'get my head out of my ass and date Meg, you dumb fuck".

I worry about our ability to retire based on our total investment in washrags.

Pulling up your pants in a cop's spotlight is not a good way to impress a girl, but neither is not telling anyone a cop was coming.

The drive flew by as I sat contentedly listening to the I <3 NC playlist on her iPod.

The most romantic text I've received told me she loved me more than "any other motherfucker out there".
**********************
Ok, that was fun. Meg may or not be inspired to add some...I hope she does.

"I'll live inside this blissful snowglobe if that's what you need."

You know those things that won't stop haunting you? Silly ideas that threaten the stability of any relationship, much less a fledgling one that took a while to get off the ground. I got a few this week and, it turns out, Meg does too. We've had a few frank and emotional conversations fueled by my menstral cycle and Meg's obsessive need for restaurant queso. The conclusion? We're going to be together a damned long time...

I have never met or dated someone that can make me laugh with my brow still furrowed. She makes me feel justifiably ridiculous when I'm spouting off things even I don't believe, but she does it with the most amiable and loving smile I've ever seen. Meg has no control over her eyeballs most times...the blue spilling over to make me calmer. Thank god because I'm still acclamating myself to this life again. I love each step into deeper water with her and, oddly, I'm not scared when the water gets just a bit murky because I know, like her eyes, it will be clear and blue and beautiful if we just hold still and get our footing back.

I fear this may read as a hiccup...that couldn't be further from the truth as I feel nothing but surity and I think that confidence is infecting my girlfriend. In that fever, she's slipping up and whispering sweet nothings in my ear. If we keep accidently tipping our hands to the other, I think we might have some of that gross, giddy love on our hands. I'd better be more careful.

"Being here this weekend reminds me-once again-how much I appreciate you and the time we spend together."

I miss my girlfriend. I left exactly one week ago for a trip to Destin, Florida with two of my best friends and I have another 48 hours before I see her face again. That's 9 days, folks. Nine days with no kisses, no cuddles, no nookie, no meals together, no face-to-face laughter, no unprompted smiles, no spooning (granted, this is but a sub-category of cuddling but that does not diminish its importance and the subsequent necessity to name it separately), no pouty faces, no watching the clock at work counting down the minutes until I get to see her face (I am doing this, but while sitting on the beach watching gorgeous sunsets!)...

I'm sure you're saying to yourself 'it's nine days and you're in paradise with two of your favorite people in the world, get a grip', but if you can recall any point where you've seen something indescribable and attempted to describe it or experienced something incomparable but wanted only to share it then you'll understand how I feel. I want Meg next to me as I have seen jellyfish for the first time outside of an aquarium, have lost time floating lazily in the ocean only to look up and find myself alarmingly far from shore, or, like tonight, stepped onto a sailboat and watched seven dolphins crest off the front bow as the sun fires red and disappears.

I miss that girl, my girl. I'm nostalgic for the memories we have yet to create. I'm anxious to see the scrapbooks that have yet to be scrapped. You know you got something special when with every glisten on the waves and every happening upon mating wildlife, you think of your girlfriend. ;)

I'm thinking of you, Meggles. And I so very much appreciate the time we have and will spend together.

"Do you really love me or are you just saying that because I have you in a lock head!?"

In all my dating wisdom, I've come to realize that a healthy dose of similarities and differences are necessary so that you don't get bored or have uncontrollable urges to smother your partner while they sleep. Common sense, yes, but it's amazing how often people look for the missing piece to their puzzle, the yin to their yang, and the sweet to their sour.

Meg and I have that...she is the corner piece to my curvy boundaries, the long-haired yin to my Doc Marten yang, the double chocolate fudge to my malt vinegar.

In other words, she completes me.

But what has shocked me is how those differences are so easy to swallow because of the commonalities. Just like Ani, "I know there is strength in the differences between us and I know there is comfort where we overlap". It's the comfort that makes our differences so easy to set out on the table like armor against anything that could come between us.

Over here lies Meg's love for family and my fierce loyalty to friends. In that corner is my logic and over there is Meg's heart, my attraction for the individual-above-all objectivist view and Meg's commitment to the common good, her musicality and my love of lyrics...but, right in the middle, we always come back to our unshakable appreciation for laughter, good food, sleeping in, questioning everything, organized spontaneity, and holding each other close through it all.

Without those, I honestly wouldn't be able to swallow her callous inability to stir the pot. She is wholly incapable of being dramatic. No worries, we're practicing. I have her repeating phrases such as "if you don't pass me the salt, I swear to the lord almighty I will drown your cat" or "can I get a hug or are you too busy thinking about the hot sex you had with (insert ex's name here)" and the tried-and-true gems like "do you really love me?" and "you can't ever leave me because I could never live without you".

For Meg's side, without the laughter, I don't think she could indulge my Gemini indecisiveness and 'oohh, shiny' career planning. She's one of those freaks who has known what she wanted to do and how to get there since she was 16. And she's doing it. On the other side of this, I have wanted to be a lesbian celebrity, a chef, a human resources manager, a blogger (heya!!), a sex therapist, a lawyer, a social worker, a copywriter, and a personal coach....all in the ten months we've known each other. To her credit, she's been double chocolate fudgey through it all.

And, whether I'm in a lock head or not, I love you.

"Bell hard or die."

This quote serves a few purposes. The first, and most important, is the introduction of my gorgeous girlfriend's darkest secret. The second, and most amusing, her complete inability to be anything less than forthcoming. And third, it's just one more example of how Meg does everything to her fullest potential and with the greatest concern...no matter how truly, truly embarassing it is.

You ready?

My girlfriend is a handbell ringer.

Ok, so the more mature of you may be questioning "so what? what is so wrong with being a ringer? Who are you to judge her!?!".

Calm down.

The major catalyst for the good-natured (and constant) ribbing is her complete mortification and (see previous blog) total meltdown into a tear-streaked puddle of laughter. It's her fault, really. And no, it's not just another attempt to pass the buck and blame her instead of owning up to my addiction to sarcasm and toture. It really is her fault. Here's why:

"Okay, so I'm having a guilty moment...and I feel like I need to fess up and tell you that, technically, I'm not actually working tonight before the concert. I am, in fact, ringing the handbells in the lobby before the show. You're a bright girl and perhaps you have figured this out already...perhaps it occurred to you that the "concert" that we're ringing before on Saturday is actually a little show called Yuletide. And we might just be doing the same tonight. Ugh. So yeah, I broke down and told Jen about it last night...but threatened her life if she told you. I told her that if I knew you were watching it would make me SO nervous...so she and Jess could come, but I didn't want you to know. So now I am feeling selfish and guilty...and am letting you know that even though it will make me freakishly nervous....you are welcome to come watch IF you want to see me in the geekiest light possible. Geesh. And I'm sorry for trying to deceive you...that's not normally my style, and I'm not proud of it. The doors open at 6:30 and we start playing right away...and will play all the way up until 7:30.

So there you have it."

So there you have it indeed. Meg started this culture of shame. Instead of, like she has since, explaining that she grew up in the church and ringing in the handbell choir her mother directed she decided to throw out the geek grenade and blow up any chance I had of nodding respectfully and doing wiki searches to learn more about her lifelong curricular.

No, she left me with little recourse than to tease and poke and prod until she collapses into a fit of giggles and hides her head in her hands. How much cuter is that than this?

Ok, I admit that that's pretty cute (and stop looking for Meg, she's not there!!), but when compared to this:

What can a girl do?

"Thank you for being a raincoat."

An appropriate quote for a rainy day in Indianapolis...

All blog titles will be from quotes between Meg and me; this particular one pulled from a saved text message from early July and in response to some exchanges involving this song. Truth is, I wasn't always an effective raincoat for this girl but it's raining today and I'm damned confident that she feels shielded now.

Now that we have our personal history blogged and blabbed, we can move on to the happy stories of our past, present and future. There are, already, quite a few of 'em and we can't wait to share them. I have to add that Meg was quite impressed that our first date and subsequent eight months resulted in equal length blogs...but I'll be working on filling in the eight months as we move along here, babe. Promise. And threat.

Favorite NC/MW memories. Take one:

I'm convinced one reason that Meg and I work so perfectly is our desire to share our favorite things with the other...but also to appreciate what the other is sharing with us. It's a pretty sweet thing...

That said, one of the things Meg has shared with me is Sakura, a fantastic sushi place in Indy. It's tiny and nearly always crowded, but they have the best soft-shell crab rolls I've ever had. I'll take a picture of the actual rolls when we go next, but this'll have to suffice for now:

Thank god I just ate my lunch or this would be bad news for our dinner plans. So, that isn't really the story I'm trying to tell but that's where it happened.

Along with hitting me, another of Meg's most endearing qualities is her complete inability to tell a funny story without crying, turning red and nearly hyperventilating. It's beautiful, actually. And infectious. The red starts down low on her jaw and slowly creeps up her face until it hits her eyes and combusts into tears...which start streaming down her face...all the while she's gasping and spitting out her story in quick spurts before she starts laughing hysterically (at her own story, remember) again. You can't help but crack up along with her even though you have little to no idea what you're laughing at...it's an amazing sight to behold and I promise you I'll get it on camera and post it someday....

Here is photographic evidence of the beginnings of this strange phenomenon (this was taken while she and her sister recounted a story where they were at a restaurant with k.d. lang...whom Meg stereotypically thinks is the hottest woman alive...I can't really tell what with all the wrinkles):

Now notice the red cheeks, the intense concentration on the inhale/exhale process, and ,though you can't make it out too well in this picture, the glossiness of the eyes as the tears take hold. It happens every single time...without fail.

So, we're at Sakura one night and the subject of most embarrassing moments comes up. Cue the facial fireworks for dear Meggles as she takes no time to start (though a ton of time to finish) a story about assuming a colleague had had gastric bypass surgery....mistakenly. I won't go into all the details of the story, but here's an email Meg sent me the Monday after:

"I was just telling Laura about our conversation at Sakura on Friday night. You know, the whole bariatric surgery discussion... So, I'm talking to Laura and I immediately start crying because it is such a painful memory. Then, Kristin pipes in and says "What are you talking about, Meg? I've never heard this story!" So, OF COURSE, I have to start at the beginning and tell her the entire story. By this point, I'm practically sobbing in between fits of hysterical laughter. I finally start to pull myself together and Linda walks in. She looks at all of us laughing, and says "What did I miss?" And the whole thing starts over again. So, now I'm crying and laughing and feeling wretched and guilty and wondering why Mrs. G did not punch me in the face when I asked if she had bariatric surgery. Oy. So, yeah. Thanks."

Damn, she's cute. :)

"That's it. I'm giving you a text time out!"

I thought it appropriate to finish up the MW/NC history saga on this historic day...after pausing to reflect on the last seven years in both a personal and national way. Here's to the next seven...may they be lucky for me, Meg and this country.

So, I left off after our first meeting and I'm sure, as you do the math in your head, you're already plotting what to get us for our year anniversary! I mean, what with such a prescient night of fun and flirtation surely we have been inseparable ever since, right? Not quite.

I know I mentioned the dumbassedness that was my 27th year, but mentioning does not sum up what a whirlwind it all was. This might help:

Needless to say, Meg didn't stand a chance amidst my chaos and confusion no matter how gracious, inviting and endearing she was through it all. There were devils and angels on all sides but I think everyone is best served with the quickest summation I can give without going into all the gory details...complete with bullet points, thank you very much.

-When I met Meg, I was 'hanging out' with someone else and while I wasn't looking for a relationship from either person at that point, there was overlap. Yes, yes, I suck.

-Roundabouts the beginning of the year, I was still very much in a tizzy over my last relationship and felt drawn to work through the issues with my ex. This, obviously, meant that Meg and I stopped seeing each other and I pretty much disappeared for the month of March.

(I know, you're all wondering when Meg loses her halo...it's coming)

-My relationship with my ex ended yet again and that, along with some very ugly issues where I deeply hurt one of my dearest friends beyond repair, prompted me to leave Bloomington. For Indy. Where Meg lives.

(I want to interrupt to say that Bloomington, Indiana is one of the greatest treasures to me personally and to this state...it is aesthetically beautiful and a haven for liberal-minded hippie kids in a cherry red part of the country...That town will always hold a piece of my heart and I will always regret feeling so compelled to leave it...but, also, thank God for the friends and family that provided an anchor through that horrible time-including my beautiful girlfriend. Thanks for indulging my rant)

-Meg and I started spending time together again as friends with both of us separately promising mutual friends that we wouldn't rekindle anything more. That lasted exactly one week and a bottle of wine. I put it out there officially that 'a bottle of wine' should be an increment of time much like 'just a sec' or 'inna minute'. That bottle of wine made time stand still and both of us casually and consciously ignore the warning sign ahead:

If ya know what I mean.....

-That said, you're thinking we must be going on six months by now because we used that bottle of wine to create a Molotov cocktail of burning love. Yes? Nope.

-We were both a little wary of things at that point and I, yet again, wasn't ready to commit to anything serious after all the destruction in my wake. She wasn't pressing too hard either.....and then I found out why....

-At some point in this mix, one of Meg's dearest friends developed feelings for her and let her know that she'd like to pursue things if and when Meg reciprocated. Notice how carefully I tread here....to sum up, Meg tried to navigate these waters on her own and got swept away with it all. Oh, how I love clichéd analogies. It was about a month and a half later when I found this out...and, hypocritically, freaked out for a minute or seven.

-Actually, if I must say, things settled down pretty quickly...I immediately stepped back to let Meg sort through her feelings and was up front about the fact that I wasn't putting the same offers on the table as she was getting elsewhere. She knew that, I knew that, this other person knew that. But, for the first time in what I realized was a very trying time emotionally for our dear Meggles, she was free to make her decisions without being pulled in two directions.

-Her decision was that separately, she loved both of us deeply as major contributors to her life but that her emotions toward this other woman were a strong platonic love and that, if we decided to move forward, her feelings toward me were still relationshipy (I need to copyright these words, for reals).

-Long(er) story short, we're dating. And today is our second monthiversary. Lord knows it's been the longest two month relationship of my life. ;)

Oh, and I love her face.............and her.

How could I not?

I created this slideshow for her 28th birthday party...you may need to let it buffer for a minute. Enjoy!

"Well, at least we know how much it weighs now..."

I have to interrupt the history lesson before I forget this story....

One thing you'll need to learn about Meg is that she hits...me...a lot. It's not really her fault and I don't mean that in the 'abused child of an alcoholic' way...I mean it in a 'you would hit me, too' kinda way. She has these spontaneous spasms when I'm in peak smartass mode that cause her to smack me upside the head...usually in the car...and, mind you, I drive about 90% of the time.

That said, Meg and I recently started paying more attention to our health, what we're eating and the financial side of eating out so much (easy with the jokes, buckaroo). We've both have some success with Weight Watchers in the past so we joined a few weeks ago and have been doing great so far. I promise this will not turn into a weight loss diary (not that there's anything wrong with that!). Tuesday nights are our usual weigh-in night so we headed down to the southside of Indy. We park and I start stripping in the parking lot...cell phone, wallet, keys, hoodie...taking everything off I can so that I get a consistent weigh-in each week. Smart, no?

Last week, Meg weighed first and turned around with a sassy and competitive grin when she heard her loss....going so far as to say 'I totally beat you this week'...and was promptly crushed by 2.8lbs. So, it was my turn to face the firing squad first; it was a respectable showing but nothing like the prior week...we'd both cheated a bit with different social events (mmm, crème brulée ...). I wander off to read the nutritional labels on the WW pretzel bites (1point, OMG!!) and turn to see Meggles with the most pathetically dejected look I'd seen since she'd realized there really are people that support Sarah Palin. I look at her card....a gain of 3.2.

I, of course, start sputtering about heavy clothes and how we'll just try harder next week all the while thinking how in the hell could she have gained 3.2 unless she really wasn't peeing in the middle of the night and instead having a heated affair with a nocturnal pizza-delivery guy! We get back to the car when she nearly shouts 'WAIT! I was wearing my purse!!!' and tromps back in to order a re-do. I nearly peed.

She stood and watched me strip down as near to my skivvies as I possibly could...exfoliating so not to be weighed down by dead skin...questioning how many ounces my myopic frames cost me...and she gets on the scale with her ginormous purse on her shoulder. This ain't your anorexic girlfriend's clutch, either...this is like your mama's purse where you wade elbow deep to find anything from chapstick to tampons to the phone number for the nocturnal pizza-delivery guy. This purse is serious business and she didn't even think twice about stepping up and letting that black demon of pleather push her into a weight-gaining pit of despair.

So, how does this factor in to the patterns of abuse we're establishing in this relationship's infancy? I almost made a joke about being sure to put her purse down before she got on the scale...but I was too scared of retaliation. I just hope she can see what her lack of backhanding control has gotten her.

Oh, she lost .8....That's four pounds of purse, folks. Just in case you needed a non-dykey reason to carry a wallet.

"Probably you could've asked me to marry you and I would have said yes"

To get this party started, we have to go back to when we were buying the beer and chips...ya dig? It's all about the preparation that went into where we are now...and, lemme tell ya, there was a long line at the grocery story...ya dig? Yeah, I'll stop doing that now....but here's to our history.

My version:
It was a cool November night and...ok, for real, I'm done.
It actually was a cool November night last year (2007). November 9th, to be exact. I was meeting up for the first time in too long with some old friends for dinner. It may help to know where I was at that point in my life, but that is about twenty entries by itself so I'll just sum up with the fact that I was pretty much single but fresh out of a very intense relationship and had been acting like a dumbass for the previous couple months (typical post-relationship shenanigans like going out too much and being a whore). Moving on...I met up with the friends, Jen and Jess, at Bazbeaux Pizza in Indy (FANTASTIC local pizza place...check it out if you're in town) and we were doing the typical catch-up on life spiels. Story came up about supporting a friend through a break-up with someone who was an aquaintance of mine...two days prior...

So, I'm sitting there listening to their recount of the ugly situation in which Meg's ex cheated on and subsequently broke up with her...ouch, right? But, hearing all this and being in the cocky haze I'd been in since my breakup where I had decided I was God's gift, I figured this was a perfect time to meet this chick and bring some NC joy to her life. Classy move, eh?

They agreed it was a good idea to get Meg out of the house where her ex was packing her things that night and out with friends for a drink or two. After much badgering by a very persuasive JenT, Meg finally relented and goes home for a quick change out of her 'frumpy' work clothes. Whatever she did at home worked because she looked damn cute walking into The Metro in what I can now lovingly call her Meggleform....much like a uniform, it's a safe bet that if you met Meg anytime between birth and early 2008 she would have been in this outfit...black sweater with jeans, black shoes, silver earrings and silver watch. God bless it...

So, Meg walks in and greets the group and, true to what I know of her now, put on a happy face and jumped into the stories and banter without once bringing up the chaos in her life. I go straight into obnoxious flirt mode...sitting up straight, asking clever get-to-know-ya questions, buying a round of drinks and teasing Meg every chance I got about whatever I possibly could. Girls LOVE that. Turns out, Meg really does. The night wears on and Jess starts yawning and hinting to Jen that she was ready to crash so I asked Meg if she'd like to stay to have one more drink with me...bold, yet sophisticated, right?...which promptly turns into a rush need for Jen to go to the bathroom and, wouldn't ya know, Meg to go with. Jess and I just rolled our eyes and I did my best to keep her awake while the other two were gone for, I swear, 3.5 hours. Ok, it just felt that long.

I didn't find out till later that the shortened bathroom conversation was something like:
Jen: Oh my god, she's totally flirting with you and we're NOT leaving you.
Meg: I'm going to have one drink and go home.
Jen: Yeah right, you don't know that girl.
Meg: Is she a serial killer?
Jen: No, but we're not leaving, I just wouldn't feel right.
Meg: Ugh, fine, we'll leave together.
(On the walk back to the table....she's so smooth...)
Meg: I was actually having a good time and it felt nice to be flirted with...especially right now.
Jen: OMG! Fine, we'll leave but you'd better text us when you head home...
Meg: It'll be half hour, I swear.
Jen: Yeah....we'll see...you don't know that girl. Just try not to sleep with her.
Meg: *GASP* I am NOT going to sleep with her....

Fast forward 4.5 hours:
Meg (through text): Yeah, so I just got home....but I didn't sleep with her ;)

It's still my contention that she didn't sleep with me that first night because I have impeccable manners.........and because her ex was still at her house and I lived in Bloomington. And, really, car sex for the first time went out of vogue in high school....when both of us were still virgins....

It took her about seven months to admit that she probably would have fallen for my charms if I would have pushed the issue. Duh.

But, more seriously, in those four hours where we watched the waitstaff clear the tables, vacuum the floor and finally directly ask us to leave, we had a wonderful and flirty conversation....actually, we've been having those ever since....with a few hiccups.

We'll leave that for the next entry.....

I <3 your face

We'll call this the introduction. That's easy enough for everyone to handle, so long as you know what you're being introduced to, I suppose. This will serve as an introduction to the intertwined lives of me and my girlfriend, Meg. Hence, Me and Meg...you'll find we're very clever girls.

This is me:




















This is Meg:




















This is our story.....as it unfolds.