"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. :)