I Can't Feel My Face

Although wedding planning is extremely stressful and overwhelming, there are perks and exciting things that come with it, too. One of those being... taking engagement photos!

I had been looking forward to our engagement shoot for months. We planned to wait until March when the weather started warming up (this was being planned in January). I had my outfits picked out and locations nailed down.

We opted to shoot on Saturday, March 16th. The first location was scheduled to be at Little 5 Points, but, forgetting about St. Patrick's Day that Sunday, Little 5 was not an option. So, we went ahead to Atlantic Station. Atlantic Station was also crazy busy with early St. Patty's celebrations but luckily, the crowds/festivals didn't really affect our shooting and we got some great shots. Making great progress, we decide to stop and grab a bite to eat before heading to our final location, Piedmont Park. In order to catch the perfect lighting and to avoid any more Atlanta traffic, we sat and had Willie's right outside of the park. I should say Chazz and our photographer had Willie's, I drank my dinner, in the form of a margarita (it was worth the calories).



We eat, chat, talk wedding/life stuff and move on to finish our pictures before the sun sets completely. Our photographer has us move to this rock ledge so she can get the sky line behind us. She has us sit (which was little difficult up there in a dress and heels when you haven't been able to wear heels in two months due to a broken foot) on the ledge to get a couple sweet shots of us. As we're sitting there, I'm thinking to myself, "ow, these rocks are really uncomfortable and hurting." I readjust a few times because sitting on rocks in a dress isn't comfortable. Finally, we get to take some pictures standing. As I stand up and straighten my dress, I notice ants on my legs! Trying to avoid a scene (and probably with the help of that margarita) I am calmly brushing the ants off of me. OK, it was actually a little frantic as I panic to get them off. I lift my dress up slightly and ask Chazz if he sees any. His response, "babe, watch your dress out here- stop hiking it up!" to which I responded, with a glare, "Chazz, I have been sitting in ants, I do not care about lifting my dress up!" 



The shot that caused the ant bites







Luckily, we were done at the rock ledge and we could change into our casual outfit (skinny jeans for me). I didn't really feel a lot of bites at that moment, again, I think due to that margarita. We walk down to the dock to take pictures at the lake when I say to Chazz, "I can't feel my top lip." I'm a little worried because I am allergic to bee stings and although I have had reactions in the past, never to ants and no part of my face ever went numb. Chazz kind of brushes it off so I figure I'm being paranoid. We're smiling, kissing, holding hands, ya know, all the stuff you do when you take pictures that portray your love for one another, when my bottom lip went numb. I say to both Chazz and the photographer, "OK, I can't feel my bottom lip now. Should I be worried?" No one makes a big deal about it, I think I'm still being a hypochondriac. Then I feel my inner ear burning, and I feel relief if I scratch it (oh God, I'm Hitch right now! -was what I was thinking). Still, no one notices anything weird about me so I try to ignore it. Then my eyes started feeling itchy, I thought it was those dang false eyelashes until our photographer asks, "Are you OK? Your eyes are really red." Then I feel itchy on my arm. I show Chazz where I'm itching and say, "am I breaking out in hives?" He looks at me and says, "no, you're fine. You have one little bump on your neck, it looks like a bug bite (oh, like an ANT BITE?)."

Trying to stay calm and trust those around me we set up our next shot. I'm smiling although I can't feel my face, lips specifically, and am now unsure about continuing this. Suddenly, Chazz pulls my face toward his and says, "oh babe, I think you're breaking out." Unable to see myself, I already know what's happening. I'm breaking out in hives, only I'm unaware my face is swelling. I take a snapshot of myself to see the damage and PANIC. It's unreal. I'm snapping at Chazz, needing to get out of there ASAP before someone sees me or before I like, die. Chazz thinks it's appropriate to call me Hitch at that point. It wasn't. It was too soon.




In the car at CVS

 Chazz is trying to remain calm in my state of panic, but his calmness is making my panic worse, because he's clearly not taking this serious. We GPS the closest pharmacy and he runs in to find Benadryl and Calamine Lotion while I'm stripping down to my underwear and scratching frantically in the car. We get home, I rush to the shower to make sure the ants and their venom are gone. The shower was terrible, as it had to be cold and the Benadryl  hadn't kicked in. Finally, it kicks in and I go right to sleep (I am extremely sensitive to Benadryl, add that to the list). My face is back to normal in about 24 hours and even with about 40 ant bites per leg, the ER was avoided.

So, the bad news is that, along with bees, I'm allergic and I should probably have an EpiPen on me like my dad used to carry. The good news, our pictures weren't completely ruined and Chazz still loves me literally, at my worst.



I'm a pretty princess



Really?

The reason I haven't had a post in a while is because nothing funny or embarrassing has happened to me. Aside from my life. Let me explain.

 

In my last post I told you all about my wonderful engagement. Well, shortly after that, my trip to Cloud 9 was ended abruptly when I had to take Chazz to the emergency room for lower abdomen pain. That lower abdomen pain was actually appendicitis. Appendicitis= emergency surgery. Emergency surgery = no more engagement cloud 9. Poor guy, he was also feeling really great with his recent win and had even been offered a title fight. The surgery set him back about 6-8 weeks.



Pre-Surgery, poor baby.



Surgery, smergery! Chazz's surgery went great, and me (being the wonderful fiance that I am) spent the night at the hospital with him and even put up with him waking me up around 3am wanting to talk and watch TV (pain meds...). Recovery was a tough pill to swallow at first, no pun intended, because he had to grasp the fact he couldn't do any training, or even work for a week, for that matter. 



Being a good fiance



BUT- my papa bear is a strong one and he was back to normal in no time.

Fast forward a few weeks, we return back to Wild Bills, this time to just watch the fights. We have a few drinks, eat poorly and overall have an awesome time.

We get home, probably around 2:00am (ish) and somehow in the midst of getting ready for bed, I manage to hit the top/side of my foot. I start crying, which isn't uncommon, aware that I could be being a bit melodramatic. When I couldn't put any weight on it that's when Chazz forced me to go to the ER. Lo and behold, it's broken.

I am stuck wearing this "wooden shoe" for another three weeks and honestly, the mental aspect of this whole thing is way worse than the physical. Take away an active person's lifestyle from them, you have a problem. Take away an active person/shoe addict 's lifestyle AND their shoe collection, you have one depressed person. Ah, the things we take for granted...

But seriously, for someone who trains a martial art (Jiu-Jitsu), I break my foot on my bed post??? That's the lamest thing ever. Although I did tell a stranger I broke it in a sky diving accident and that was fun.

I'm Engaged!

OK, so, I know I post funny stories/experiences and whatnot but I have to officially post about my ENGAGEMENT!

Most of you probably already know how it went down or at least put the pieces together via the Facebook updates. For those of you that don't know, don't fret, for I will tell you right now!

December 15, Chazz had his first advanced amateur MMA bout. Advanced amateur basically means the fighters are allowed to incorporate "ground and pound" into their fight strategy. It is as scary as it sounds (to me, anyway). The fight was at Wild Bill's in Duluth (or Gwinnett- whatever you prefer) in a traditional boxing ring (I don't agree with this- MMA is meant for a cage/octagon. You can't reset two fighters mid-fight because they're under the ropes- it just shouldn't work that way). 

This fight night was Wild Bills' annual Toys For Tots charity. If you brought an unwrapped toy, you got a free general admission ticket. There was estimated to be about 3,000 people there. No pressure, right?

The day of the fight I made Chazz run errands with me, one errand being to go to the mall. I kind of tricked him into going because I knew he wouldn't have gone otherwise. The joke ended up being on me because he started shadowboxing a mannequin and broke it's hand off. -_-. As I tried on what seemed like 247 outfits, he was NO help picking one. He kept saying how he was ready to go and he didn't care what I wore. But I cared, I wanted to dress up a little bit, being that my man was fighting! After sending pics to about 5 different friends I decided on an outfit at the last minute on my own. Red skinny jeans and a black, sparkly peplum top. Boy, do I regret that choice.  Turns out, neither those jeans nor that top photograph very well. Oh well.

(these were my outfit choices)

After (finally) getting dressed, we packed everything into the car and headed to the venue. I had been dealing with "fight Chazz" all day so was making sure to be very calm, and patient (two things that I never am) as well as hide the crazy anxiety that I always get before he fights. Once we got there, he went straight to the back as I waited in the crazy long line to get in. I get in, find my 3rd row seat, greet my friends as they trickle in, and indulge in a couple vodka/crans (don't judge me- I was a nervous wreck). Chazz's mom led us in a group prayer before the first bout that actually made me feel really good. That should be a tradition. Although I'm not sure how many more fights she can take. 

The fights start and eventually Chazz's bout is next. We hear Johnny Cash blare through the speakers and we knew it was "go time." We went crazy cheering for him, and let me just tell you, the person that walked down that stage and into the ring was not the papa bear that I know- this was The Hybrid, for sure (his nickname). Anyway, it was a grueling match, my entire body was shaking viciously the whole time (sorry Jess and Jamie- I know I was probably grabbing ya'll the whole time) especially when we noticed how much be was bleeding from  his nose. Fast forward, Chazz "The Hybrid" Walton wins in the 3rd round with 20ish seconds left via arm bar!!!!! Once I knew he won, I pushed past my friends to stand in the aisle to make sure I got a picture of the referee raising his hand. 

As I take the pic, I immediately post to Facebook to let everyone know he won. While I am posting, I hear the emcee pass the mic to Chazz. At first confused, I just figured maybe they were interviewing all the advanced and pro fighters to kill time. I hear him say, "did ya'll enjoy that?" and I'm thinking- wow, this is all adrenaline, Chazz doesn't do public speaking. Then I hear, "I'd like to call someone very special inside the ring..... Megan, could you come inside the ring?" 

I am so confused. I started looking around and kept saying, "wait, what's happening?" Of course, no one would answer me and they just pushed me toward the ring while my brain is still trying to figure this out. As I walk up the wooden stairs, one of his corner men hold open the ropes and I say to him, "what's happening?" and he responds, 
"Just go with it."



Afraid I might break my neck in front of thousands of people, I ditch my heels and I step into the ring. Of course, Chazz wants me front and center and makes me come to him, in the very middle. I'm so awkward, I don't know what to do with my hands. I still have my cell phone hanging out of my front pocket and my wrislet dangling from my arm. I am also very aware of the blood I am most likely standing in. Chazz gets the crowd to cheer for me and before I know it, he is down on one knee. The crowd goes nuts- I now know what's happening. I immediately cover my mouth with my hands in shock, taking everything in. He then says,
 
"Megan Wilbourn, I've loved you since I met you.... (pulls out ring) Will you marry me?" 


I almost can't hear anything over the cheering, I pull him up from kneeling (because that was making me uncomfortable) and hug him, kiss him and his bloody face and of course- SAY YES! The emcee puts the mic in my face and asks me to scream my answer. My first thought was, I'm not doing that. And then, Megan, say something witty and clever. Thank GOD I just replied with "yes", because I don't make good jokes under pressure (see my "Ballin" blog post). 


So, we are now engaged and he gave me a ring inside a ring. He also told our good friend that he knows MMA is a selfish sport and he wanted to prove that he will always put me before everything and wanted to make the night about me. It was perfect. I am so lucky. ::end gushing::


Watch the proposal HERE!


Signed,
The Future Mrs. Walton

'Roid Rage (minus the 'roids)

Ok, so by now you all know I train BJJ (Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu if you haven't paid attention to anything at all). It's been the best/worst journey I have experienced thus far in life. 

It's been the best, because:

• I've lost 22lbs (and counting) having FUN
• I am able to use my competitive edge in a way that won't get me fired
• I get to train with my boyfriend
• I've made awesome friends
• I've pushed myself to limits I never knew existed
• I kind of feel like a BA
• I get to surprise people when I tell them I train
• I get to be an athlete again

It's been the worst, because:

• My body is always in turmoil, it seems (bruises, strained muscles, black eyes, etc)
• I've cried during training due to my competitive edge which is embarrassing
• Training with my boyfriend usually ends up with us at each other's throat
• I've hurt my friends and been hurt by friends (literally, not emotionally)
• I've felt defeated in ways I never knew existed
• I sometimes feel inadequate when I can't master something
• I participate in a sport that revolves around weight and I love food

Just to name a few. I will dedicate a whole post to BJJ when the time is right. 

Any who, training is a lifestyle. Especially when you decide to compete. If you want to win,  there are no days off. There are no "cheat days" (probably shouldn't have eaten my body weight in sushi last night). I tackle my 45 min commute from Marietta to North Druid Hills area every morning for work, leave at 6, get home to have just enough time to change clothes to head to Dallas for BJJ class. Basically, an 80 mile commute daily. On the days there isn't class, my boyfriend and I train at home. This particular day, there was no class  so we did just that. For some reason, I thought my bf was going to help me work out. Meaning, work mitts with me or give me a cardio circuit to do, or just push me. I didn't know he planned on working out, too. Now the attention was not just on me, as now on both of us. Because this was not how I mentally prepared this workout, I didn't handle it well. 

Now, with our vigorous training my boyfriend does sometimes take a pre/post workout booster that I am sometimes forced to take (and it's disgusting) in addition to my daily B-6 and B-12. I honestly am not sure what I took this day, but it definitely affected my mood. Maybe I mixed something I shouldn't have or  maybe just because I am a woman.Whatever the case,I pretty much went psycho  

I threw a minor tantrum in the garage which caused my boyfriend to cut his work out short and go inside the house. This was not the correct solution. Now I was alone in the garage (sauna suit and all) and not working out. I didn't want to hit our punching bag- I wanted to work mitts but because I was being so terrible Chazz was having none of it. At this point, he was cracking jokes from inside via text message and actually being kind of sweet. I was having none of that. I finally stormed inside to find he was leisurely watching TV with Bella while I was sulking. So, I did was any rational person would- I took the remote. And when he wouldn't let me go back into the garage, I went out the back door, walked completely around the house, crawled under the garage door that was halfway up and continued to sulk, now accompanied by the living room remote control. 

Expecting Chazz to come and make everything better, I was quite shocked when he just went upstairs and started watching TV in the bedroom. I stomped up the stairs, screamed something like, "You just need to work out with me RIGHT NOW!!" he told me, "you are acting crazy". Everyone knows you don't tell a crazy person that, so of course, I disagreed and he then said, "I am not doing anything until you apologize." 

The craziness took over at that point, rage running through my veins and I knew I had to unleash. My first instinct was to punch the wall, but for fear of breaking my hand I decided against that. See, rational even while irrational! Until.... I left the bedroom, went into hulk smash mode, and kicked the wall. Then cried. Then was consoled. Then apologized. It was quite the emotional roller coaster at our house. Poor Chazz. For the record, I did apologize profusely. 


Two Questions:

1. Any one know how to patch drywall?

and

2. Any one need a work out buddy?

Hulk-smash engage! Compliments of my size 6.5 foot

Why I Hate Pinterest

I just heard gasps as the title of this post was read. Yes, I put HATE and PINTEREST in the same sentence. Sure, there is enough on there to get you lost in thought for several hours. Sure, it will motivate you to get ripped and work out every morning/afternoon/night and then bake a triple layer chocolate mousse pie (I don't even know if there is such thing) when you've never baked before, then redecorate your whole home, and even do minor construction. Some of you do all those things, and it looks bad A. Some of you take an idea off Pinterest and turn it into even more of a magnificent creation. 

Why do I even have so many boards?

The problem is that Pinterest gives people like me false hope to be successful in the DIY/cooking/baking/decorating/hair-styling world. When I say, "people like me," I mean those of us that don't bake that well (or at all) or don't have these great visions on how to make your stairway look larger. Or those that don't have the patience to paint, cut, mod podge (I don't even know what that means), paper mache or whatever is on that site. I have no desire to cut up a shirt and actually wear it in public. Unless, of course, it's a shirt that was mandatory for me to wear for whatever reason. I am just not a fan of looking homeless. Although making a rug out of old t-shirts is pretty cool. But see, why would I seriously need to do that? 

Do you know what I did a few weeks ago? I made my own laundry detergent. Did you read that?

My loving sis

I made my own laundry detergent. For no other reason than I spent way too much time browsing Pinterest and I did get quite lost in the cleaning boards which only fueled my OCD and I went home and cleaned  everything with a baking soda/water mixture- it really does work. Anyway, I actually went out and purchased all of the supplies needed, and because I'm so impatient, I even decided to take on this endeavor on my hour lunch break. Which ended up being a terrible idea because as I was leaving Big Lots with my new detergent "kit," I  slipped on a banana peel outside. How is this my life? My boyfriend made several jokes about it- in fact, he actually asked me if anyone knew I was doing this. Coincidentally, my sister did, and when I told her I was making it she asked me if it was because I lost my job. No! It equals like 160 loads or something and when you're doing at least 1 load A DAY, it adds up! Luckily, I stopped myself from making fabric softener and shaving cream. I have to draw the line somewhere. 


Pinterest is misleading. Some of those tricks and ideas and creations are just unreasonable. At least for the people like myself that would rather buy a shelf to install rather than buy a 2x4, sand it, paint it, add glitter, toilet paper rolls and let it dry in the sun. Seriously, with the toilet paper rolls? Who keeps those?? 

Researched photography tips via Pinterest.
Windblown look- nailed it.

Maybe Pinterest is a God-send for the stay at home mom or house wife. Even on my days off, I just don't have the desire to cut up yarn and cardboard to make decor when I can just go buy it and be done. But hey, if you live your life utilizing the many ideas on Pinterest, more power to ya. I'll just keeping nailing every thing I attempt for you.

spooky chandelier look- nailed it. 

These Youngsters and their Social Media

Unfortunately, I haven’t had anything really exciting/embarrassing/hilarious happen to me lately. How BORING.

 About a month ago I expressed I had writer’s block and you guys were kind enough to give me some awesome suggestions. One of the topics suggested was my opinion on teenagers and social networking sites. Let me just say, I have repeatedly said to my friends, “thank GOD we didn’t have Facebook in high school. Could you imagine??”

I remember when I first joined; I had just graduated and had to use my college email to sign up. Then they just let all the riffraff in. I kid. Kinda. MySpace was big in that time, most likely because a lot of folks didn’t acquire a student email address for lack of attending college. Anyway, it still wasn’t huge until just out of high school, thankfully. I think back to all the drama that circled around grades 9-12 and to add social networking to that is just unthinkable. Hell, I still get sucked into social networking drama and I graduated, well, it doesn’t matter how many years ago.

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m a Facebook stalker, and this goes for MySpace, too (when people were actually using it). So you take someone like me, and give me public facebook/myspace/twitter,etc pages and add in the emotional distress of a teenage girl, you have a mild disaster. Not to mention, the nights I would sneak on the phone after my mom went to sleep or tell her I wanted to play “Snake” on her Nokia while really sending quick text messages. I would have been all over “doing my homework” but really all up in Facebook.

I don’t have children, but eventually when or if I do, I imagine this could be a struggle. You can’t really forbid your tween to be a part of what literally everyone (including yourself) is a part of because then you just have rebellion. I probably wouldn’t mind if my kid had a profile because I would know everything that is going on at all times (trust me, I would). Even if I couldn’t, with most everyone on the planet having accounts, I’m bound to find out what I need to. Although they say, don’t look for what you don’t want to find. Whoever “they” are, are out of their mind. I want the juice!

I imagine my niece, who is 4, having a Facebook page one day and if I saw her post some of the things I used to post, I would get in my car, drive straight to Kentucky and make her watch every season of Bad Girl’s Club or worse, Love & Hip Hop Atlanta so she could see what kind of future she was being promised. Then, she probably won’t listen because she’s an annoying teenager and then I’ll just have to bring her home with me and resort to some sort of alternate plan, I need to pump the brakes, I’m getting ahead of myself.

 I say this because, I was rowdy. I was extreme. I was at times an instigator. I would be passive aggressive toward people I know were seeing my posts/pics just to stir the pot. I would rub stuff in people’s faces. I would post pics of going out drinking all the time, still considering myself classy. I was “that girl”. Mostly because I was in my late teens/early 20’s and thought I had life figured out because I had my own apartment. Obviously, I have now grown up, and although I still get targeted via social media (and even by people my age which is just a little silly), it takes a lot for me to actually engage in any of it. At this point in my life I feel like if you have something to say about me and take to social media to do it; it says more about you than it does me. I don’t lose a wink of sleep from it and most of the times just laugh about it with my friends. However, if I was in high school, it would be different. I would probably call my mom 34 times at work with an “emergency” because of course, drama at that age can’t wait and is a life or death situation, then 3-way call my best girlfriends; rehearse how I would respond, have a few emotional breakdowns, etc.

Social media can be the demise of friendships, relationships, careers- at any age. I know most people would debate that, I have had the conversation about social media and relationships and although you trust your significant other 100%, it isn’t always about that. It’s about the other people that have no regard for relationships/marriages/friendships and intentionally do things for their own entertainment or to see how far they can get. Not to mention, with the birth of Facebook, the population has drastically increased with keyboard thugs. You know the ones; the people that LOVE to talk smack virtually, but wouldn’t dare SAY anything to a person’s face. We’re all human and we all get pushed to a certain point. I would be lying if I said nothing ever bothered me on Facebook. Granted, my initial reaction to things is usually a bit irrational and once I think logically, the thought dies right there.

Do I think it’s a good thing to have tweens/teens using social media? No. But then again I don’t’ agree with a 7 year old having a cell phone, either. Call me old fashioned. I have a new respect for parents with children going through puberty and also having social networking accounts. If my kid is anything like me, and inherits my smart mouth, I’m in for a world of trouble.

A Lil Catch Up

Hi, web friends/readers.

I have been awful at neglecting you guys. Lots of changes happening (which I will fill you in) and therefore keeping me away from my blog.

I don't have a particular story for you today so I figured I'd just give you a peek on what's been going on with me.

For starters, I started a new job! After about 2 years at the previous hell hole I was offered a position 6 miles from home, total commute of 15 minutes with traffic! After sending an epic email to my boss regarding my "final thoughts" I flew outta there and gave myself a little vacay before the new job.

I was familiar with the new property, I knew it was a little rough but was ready for the challenge. So I thought. My first day as I'm touring the community with my new manager, SWAT team happened to be suiting up in the parking lot. Was that a red flag? Sure, but as we know, I don't really pay attention to those things. I didn't ask questions and we just steered clear of the team. Caught up in conversation we made the wrong turn in our golf cart and ended up riding past the building where SWAT had their guns drawn. I just kept thinking, "really?" "On my first day?" and, "I'm gonna be pissed if I get shot, I have plans tonight." I survived the first day, getting cussed out a few times by irate residents who happen to see me as a real easy target to go ham on (but looks can be deceiving, my friend). I returned the second day only to find the local police back again, this time due to a domestic dispute which ended up in some poor fool getting tazed trying to jump one of our fences.

After telling my boyfriend these instances over the next few days, he surprised me with a gift. He is just so thoughtful, I thought it was the sweetest thing to get me something because he knew I was struggling with my new endeavor. The "surprise" wasn't the type of gift I was expecting... it was a taser. A hot pink, 7 million-volt taser. To keep on me at all times. This might take the cake on being over-protective, but after a lesson on how to use/charge and not accidentally tase myself, I am armed and ready!

Luckily, I have not had to use it and hope I never have to. Although if I do, I hope someone gets it on video. And that it's not on a day where I overslept and didn't have time to do my hair.

In other news, I have started taking BJJ (Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu). I figured if my boyfriend is such a beast at it, surely I'll have the upper hand considering I can get lessons whenever I want. HA! Well if that wasn't so far from the reality of it. I want to get more experience under my belt (my white belt, that is) before blogging too much about it. I can say that I am learning a lot about myself in the process and just how competitive I really am, and how I handle pain (surprisingly well, until I get home). I still curl my hair before almost every class, I don't know if that will ever change. And I did get a pretty sweet GI, even if I don't do it justice.. yet.

I promise I'll brainstorm some new material for you, in the meantime I hope this will suffice.


-M