I didn’t expect it to be this way so quickly, but hot dang, ever since he put a ring on it, it’s been ALL WEDDING, ALL THE TIME. A preliminary guest list has been drafted, venues have been researched, wedding blogs have been bookmarked, an inspiration folder has been created, disagreements with parental units have ensued …
Oh hi, I’m Michelle and I’ve been engaged for 6.5 days.
I’m a bit crazy pants right now, but honestly? I love it. I mean, fine, maybe I’m one of those brides (I don’t even know what that means), but hey, why deny it? We get to plan a cool, hip, FUN party for our friends and family that’s very uniquely us. I think that’s pretty rad. Plus, I might not feel this same sense of giddiness down the line once we realize that, I dunno, our dream locale can only host our wedding on a Monday at 7 a.m. or that Grandma hates Chipotle burritos or that, crap, someone’s gotta pay for all this—so you might as well take Happy Bride now.
Also, we made our very first wedding decision. The most important one, obviously.
So maybe you know where this post is going (squee!), but read on (squee!), read on. (I’m so bad at story development.)
For me and Matt, Thursday is our night. Sure, we see each other every Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and sometimes Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, but there’s something so special about Thursday. Our time together is so concentrated — we only have three or four hours before one of us needs to head home. I always look forward to Thursday.
Today, like with most Thursdays, we didn’t have any special plans. I’ve been pretty stressed and sleep-deprived lately, so I was looking forward to just hanging out and relaxing. I got home from work, showered, changed into pajamas and collapsed onto my bed. Matt was already sitting there, surfing the web on his laptop. We just hung out for a while, talking, watching funny YouTube videos, giggling, cuddling. And then I said, “This is my best time.”
I guess he knew what I meant, which was that this, well, not necessarily this, but this, as in us, is my favorite thing in the world. He simply said, “It’s my best time, too.”
I told him once we live together, we can’t let nights like these slip away. We must to remember Thursdays, always. He agreed.
Suddenly, I felt really sleepy. I yawned and said, “I’m gonna take a little nap,” and then rolled over. As I closed my eyes, I heard a little bit of rustling, backpack-opening and mouse-clicking.
He nudged me and said, “Hey, watch this video.”
Quick back story: When we first started dating, Matt made me a mixed tape with the song “I Won’t Spend Another Night Alone” by The Ataris. Also, throughout our courtship (hee hee, funny word), he would draw me stick-figure comics about every funny inside joke we share. It’s beyond adorable.
Here is the video. (Squee!)
So if you didn’t watch the whole thing, the last image is of a ring (a really, really blingtastic ring!) and after the video was over, Matt opened a little box which had the ring. He then asked me to marry him. I’d been crying for two minutes and 15 seconds already, so by this time, I was a blubbering mess. I think I nodded or said something like “bLERUGgh,” but yes, my answer was yes. Of course, yes.
We kissed and were like, whoa, WHOA. A few minutes later, still in a daze, I said, “That was really fun!”
So the past few weeks, months, years, whatever, I’ve kind of been hinting at wanting to be engaged. Shocking, I know. Even tonight, I was blabbering on about how he could possibly propose. Under the red and orange leaves in New York (we’re going in November)! At a baseball game! In the Eiffel Tower! (I dunno — isn’t that a popular place to it?) But to be honest, I couldn’t picture us in any of those scenarios. We’re not fancy people (OK, fine, Matt — I’m not a fancy person) and we don’t express our love like most couples, who, like, say nice things to each other. We’re just us, you know? But all night, I’ve been telling Matt, “That was perfect.” The proposal, it was so perfect. A typical Thursday night. Me and him. Laughing, as always. Nothing could be better.
I’m not sure if I ever mentioned this but Matt and I did long distance for about three years. I was in Phoenix being hot (as in sweaty) and he was in L.A. being normal. It was hard, of course, but we made it through thanks to Southwest’s Rapid Rewards, having our own full lives (very important!), and this little device called iSight.
The whole webcam thing pretty much carried our relationship. We would turn it on and just sorta hang out. Together. But apart. We’d talk about our days and stuff but when we got bored of that, we’d watch TV or show each other what we bought at the mall (OK, that was probably just me) or just sit there and make funny faces. It was … funny. And it became our normal.
So because I live in 2003 and have recently become obsessed with Picasa’s collage-making tool, and because I asked Matt, hey, can I post these embarrassing photos, and he said he no longer cares what I do on the internet, and because, well, just because, here are some webcam shots of us.
Today, Matt and I were running errands — buying shampoo, depositing checks, getting a car wash — when I realized I had a coupon for a free pint of Starbucks ice cream. (Thanks Facebook!) Hooray! Ice cream! I asked Matt to make a stop at the grocery store.
So we walked inside, headed straight to the frozen section and there I saw a carton of Mocha Frappucino-flavored goodness singing my name. “Yummy!” I said as I grabbed it.
At the checkout stand, I handed the guy the coupon and he looked perplexed. He searched for a bar code, but there was none. This wasn’t the actual coupon, we realized. I brought the wrong paper.
“Nooooooo,” I whined. I was too cheap to shell out four bucks, so we left the carton there and walked out.
“I’m so sad!” I said as we walked into the parking lot.
“Well, if you don’t have the coupon, you don’t have it,” Matt said. “There’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Stop,” I said. “YOU ALWAYS DO THIS.”
“What?”
“You always make me get over things without properly mourning them.”
“What’s there to mourn?”
“The fact that we drove here and parked and endured the cold aisle. The fact that I was looking forward to this.”
“But it’s not important! Just get over it.”
“I will get over it, but I have to experience the sadness before I can move on. You can’t just skip that stage. You have to feel.”
Moments pass before Matt finally asked: “Do you want to take a moment of silence for the ice cream?”
“Sure,” I said.
I bowed my head and closed my eyes.
I then looked up and said, “I feel much better. Thank you.”
I might be crazy, but you guys, I really wanted ice cream!
This weekend, Matt and I took our first trip to a jeweler together and it was a bit of a mental overload. Here, let me get out my notes — depth, table, girdle, culet, polish, symmetry, fluorescence. Um, yeah. All words to describe PRETTY SHINY SQUEE!
I was a deer in headlights looking at those charts filled with numbers and letters and percentages and more numbers that are meant to be sandwiched between a dollar sign and two zeros. Then when they brought out the rocks, I became a deer in headlights who had just seen Jesus.
“What do you think about the clarity, Michelle?”
“Sparkly!”
“What do you think about the color, Michelle?”
“Sparkly!”
“What do you think about the cut, Michelle?”
“Round … and sparkly!”
So yeah, we quickly realized that I am no longer needed in this ring shopping process, especially since I already know the exact setting I want. Matt will choose the diamond. Strangely, he’s much more interested in the “specs” than I am. He says it’s kind of like buying a computer.
Still, I must say, ladies, these are the five most beautiful words you could ever hear a man utter:
“One carat looks kinda small.”
Swoon.
Of course, Matt has taken this opportunity to put me in check, saying that he’s going to knock off .1 carat every time I make him mad.
For instance:
“I didn’t know you liked Lord of the Rings.”
“Minus point one!”
He did, however, say that he would add a half carat if I, um, performed a certain act.
The other day, my friend Jenny was like, “Girl, you need an asprin.” And I was like, “Huh?” And she was like, “Cuz you have diamond fever.”
Crap, is it that obvious?
To be honest, even I’m a little surprised at just how much those little sparkly rocks make my heart swell with glee. I’ve never been a jewelry person — OK, let me clarify. I can’t be a jewelry person. I’ve lost just about every bead and bauble I’ve ever owned. Once, Matt presented me with a little velvet box, saying, “Here, open it,” and then I lifted the lid to find the dangly earrings I’d left in his car the weekend before. “Now don’t you tell me I never get you anything nice,” he said.
So no, I’ve never owned anything fancy ever. That’s why the idea of wearing a real-life diamond is crazy to me and when Matt first mentioned ring shopping, I had this whole “I’m not worthy” mentality. (I sort of got over that, luckily.)
I think it’s unique and stylish and just plain cool. I imagined it on my finger with normal clothes and with fancy clothes. I looked at it every night before I went to bed. I was smitten.
But I soon learned that the first lesson in ring shopping is to not ask for opinions. I shared the link with some girlfriends and their reactions were all the same: “Uhhhhhhhh.”
“Uhhhhhhhh, it’s cute, but you know that thing has to last for at least 50 years.”
“Uhhhhhhhh, it’s gold.”
“Uhhhhhhhh, that’s more of a birthday ring.”
I was a little sad, but I realized their opinions didn’t matter so much as long as Matt and I loved it. Though I knew getting Matt on board would be tough. First I told him the price. “It’s $690,” I said. His response? “Uhhhhhhhh, well then let’s get two in case you lose one.” I then showed him the link and he was not a fan and he said he thought we could do much better. After looking at more rings, I kind of got over that one, but I still think it’s lovely!
(P.S. My friends aren’t divas — they just like fancier rings. It’s all good.)
The ring we’re looking at now is, well, much more “normal,” but I am really crushing on it and hope that we can find a jeweler who can create it for a reasonable price. (Dude, the cost is a big deal to me! No one should live in poverty for a little thing that sparkles in the moonlight.) I suppose I’ll take my own advice and not show you the said ring until it’s purchased and on my finger — it seems like bad luck to do so beforehand, no?
Boys, just a warning, as soon as you utter the words “ring shopping,” don’t be surprised if your girlfriend skips about two dozen steps in her little brain and suddenly starts thinking, wow, a wedding dress with pockets would be rather practical, and I wonder if we should just live in the suburbs forever, and oh golly, we must get one of those yellow bike trailers for Little Penelope. For me, it’s been pretty easy to get wrapped up in the idea of married life as this week, Matt’s parents are out of town and we’re playing house. Oh, it’s so much fun. Tonight, I drove “home” from work, parked next to Matt’s car in the driveway, walked through the door to the aroma of bacon-wrapped pork loin, and ate dinner on the couch while watching the Food Network. Despite me being a bit headachey and fevery, it was glorious. Domestication, where have you been all my life?
Anyway, I was preparing a whole post on our ring shopping process, but I got distracted. Matt just poured me a glass of dessert wine. Cheers.
Lately, when we’re just sitting around, I’ll ask Matt if we can look at the Tiffany.com engagement ring section, please, please, please, just for three minutes, we’re just going to look. I mainly do this to see how he reacts so that I can get a feel for “where we are.” (What? Actually talk to the man I’ve been dating for 5.5 years? Now you’re just crazy.) You see, for the longest time, Matt would fureeeak out about this sort of thing, like seriously, he would enact sudden death every time I mentioned the word “wedding” and I just learned to deal with it because, you know, it’s not like I’m in a huge hurry either except for the fact that my ovaries are probably drying up as we speak.
Yeah, so lately, when I’ve been asking if we can look at rings online together, he’s been agreeing, saying thing’s like, “OK, but only 3 minutes. Oh, what? The page is slow to load? Well, the clock is ticking! Two minutes and fifty seconds!” And I’ve been kind of surprised because hey, no fake heart attack this time? This is a huge step.
And then two weekends ago, we were sitting in my room and I was like, “Can we look at Tiffany.com for three minutes, please, please, please, come onnnnnnn?” And he was like no. And I was sad.
Then he paused and said, “How about this?”
And I looked up and said, “Huh?”
And he was all, “Next weekend, why don’t you start researching rings. Start figuring out what you like and then show me some options and we can pick something out.”
And I was like “REALLY???!”
And he even gave me a budget and everything and I was like, “Oh my God, this is for real!”
And I was so happy that I couldn’t sleep for two days.
So now I’ve been researching rings, which believe me, is a blog post (or 15) in itself. In doing so, I quickly realized that this is precisely why the whole “process” isn’t supposed to happen like this. Because of countless conversations such as:
Me: We’re ring shopping.
Friend: Are you engaged???????
Me: Well, no.
Friend: Oh. Well. Um. Congratulations?
