The punk that is "Meg"

This is Meg:

If you were wondering, yes she is always this stunning, yes she is always this much of a punk, and yes I do miss her with all of my heart.

Meg and her hubby Quenten are in Disneyworld as we speak. They have been married for 5 years on August 25. And Meg & Q being the punks that they are got an amazing trip for practically no $ whatsoever. That's how they live their lives. They are punks. But, the point of this post is not how the Jennings are punks. It is that I miss my Meg. She is the most fun. If she is around you are guaranteed to have a fabulous time and to laugh so hard you almost pee your pants and/or have fluid of some kind shoot out your nostrils. I appreciate this aspect of my twin and best friend Meg.

She gives her whole heart to everyone. She doesn't care who you are, how old you are, what you've been through in your life, she just loves people. And she will do anything for anyone. She's the type of person who jumps out of her car to help a new neighbor move in if she happens to be driving through the neighborhood while moving in.

She will help you tape and paint a wall (I HATE taping!) in your house at any time of day (she painted my guest bathroom at 2:00 AM on a Saturday night because we got a whim to paint it).

She is a great listener. My mom always used to tease that I was the "talker' and Meg was the "listener". Don't get me wrong, Meg can be loud and chatty when she wants to be, but she also knows when to listen. For example, when we took the 4th Grade district tests at school Meg's best score (which she was in the 99 percentile of the nation) was in listening. While my worst score (the only score that was below average for me) was listening. I have tried over the years to be more like Meg in this aspect.

She loves to wear crazy things. If she likes something then she wears it. And she doesn't care what anyone thinks. Here are some examples (and I love ALL of them, might I add):

*This is from our beautiful friend Michelle's 30th Birthday Party. We love Michelle. She is one of the dang coolest people we know. She looks amazing in this picture, as usual. But please note Meg's outfit. Who thinks of putting those colors together? Not me. And the crazy fish-net purple shirt I am wearing is Meg's, of course...*

*The picture below doesn't necessarily show her in a crazy outfit, but I do love her crazy red hair and her crazy personality...this picture is from our Birthday trip to Disneyland...which was the BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!*

*Meg has claimed the shirt below as her own. I am proud to admit that I found this shirt however...and it was only $3! No joke. I did a good job with this one. Last week when I asked Meg if I could have it back for a bit she said, "No Chels. It's my favorite shirt. I'm so glad that I found it and that it was only $3!" She has even convinced herself that this stroke of genius was her very own, but alas it was not. I do love that it is such a "Meg" shirt though.*

And finally, just for the heck of it here are some random photos of Meg and her classic facial expressions:

*Smiley Meg*

*This is her "I adore animals" facial expression*

*This is her "I am going to sass you whether you like it or not" facial expression*

*this is her "I'm so proud of myself" expression*

*This is her "I really don't want to throw your banana peel away Chels, but I will..." expression*

*And finally we have "kissy face" Meg*

5 days down and 3 more to go. Hurry and come back from Disneyworld Meg. I miss you!

Bruised Ribs and a Cup

Some of you already know that I've had bruised ribs for the last 12 days. I have tried to be as tuff as I possibly could (I mean, I've felt pain before: 5 kidney stones, Crohn's flare-ups, and a few very painful surgeries) but at least with all of those things it didn't last for 12 days straight, all day long with no relief.

Well, the good news is that after day 10 of the pain never stopping, I actually had a break for an hour or so. And since then I have had more breaks from the pain and I have actually been sleeping! I am happy to say I'm over the worst of it, so most of you won't be hearing me complain anymore (sorry I wasn't the most fun these last 2 weeks, I was just a grump)!

Since I am reflecting on the last 2 weeks I thought I'd share a story that I actually think is really funny...at least it was a "first" for me so why not immortalize the experience in a blog? Here goes (*I must warn you that if you get sick hearing some detailed things then you may want to stop here*):

This Tuesday I was at my wits end. I hadn't slept in days, I was crying at the drop of a hat, I was nauseous from the non-stop pain, I was taking muscle relaxants and anti-inflammatories to ease the pain, and finally I had a dentist appointment. For those of you who don't know I HATE THE DENTIST! I know most people don't like the dentist, but seriously I hate it. I switched to a new dentist about a year ago and have been extremely happy with him and his staff but the problem is my dentist before him did a couple of small fillings and cracked my teeth in the process. He told me it was all in my head and that my tongue can feel detailed things and I just needed to get over it (that's when I decided to find a new dentist...).

I haven't had new cavities since I've been going to the new dentist, but he's had to remove some old fillings, file down the cracks (they really are cracked. I wasn't making it up :), and re-fill them. Tuesday was the day for this process. I went there NOT being happy that I was going to the dentist, NOT happy that my ribs were killing me, NOT happy that I was going to pay for a procedure that I already paid for a year ago and am now having re-done.

I made it to the dentist and they took my right back. They hooked me up to the gas (that gas is my saving grace, it helps me not be such a nut-job while I'm there), gave me 2 shots, and then removed the filling, filed down my tooth, and re-filled it. It went better than expected (I usually work myself up so much that I am surprised how easy it was when I leave...I really need to remember that next time...).

As I drove home I just didn't feel right. The compilation of the constant pain, my relaxing after a day of anxiety over the dentist, and all of the medications I had taken that day were just too much.

I knew I was going to puke. And I thought to myself: "Who are these people who throw up in cars? Can't they pull over in time? Can't they make it somewhere that has a toilet?" Well shame on me for judging said people. For today would be the first time I puked in my car....

It was 5:30 (the peak of rush hour) and I kept telling myself "I can make it home, I can make it home..." but suddenly I knew I couldn't. I couldn't make a left turn into the only parking lot around because of the constant stream of traffic. I quickly looked around my car for something to puke in and there it was...the cup...I picked it up and puked in it (I was quite proud of my aiming skills, having never thrown up in a cup I thought I'd get it everywhere, but I was a cup pro and didn't get any outside of the cup). Finally a space opened for me to pull into the parking lot. I jumped out of my running car with my full cup in hand (I looked at the cup which was a mistake) and continued to puke several times in the parking lot (I wish I had more cups, it was much easier to puke in a cup then into nothingness) while several cars stopped around me to see if I was ok (poor people! If I ever see someone throwing up I have to throw up too). Once I knew it was all out of my system I drove home, called Meg and Jesse (who dropped everything and came to take care of me), threw all of my clothes in the wash, and slept. I was grateful to have the whole day over with. And I will not make fun of people who puke in cars ever again. And I also hope that I never have to puke in a cup again.