A Happy Ending

So, even though I know it's just like, my sister and 2 other random people that even read this thing anymore, but I've been getting requests from those people to update the blog. So here I am. I do apologize for the lapses. I know this blog is like the very air you breathe.

Soooo . . . Joe and I are engaged. Ya, I know. I knew it was coming, because, being the smart man that he is, he thought to include me in the ring-buying process, to make sure he got me something that I wanted. But I truly thought he was going to wait until 2009 to propose. I had a list of like 4 or 5 dates on which I thought he was going to do it. Alas, he tricked me and popped the question on Christmas Eve.

The actual story does not involve fireworks or fancy dinners or a big production. We were at my house, exchanging our Christmas gifts. He hands me an enormous box-- big enough, for like, an industrial air conditioner. I'm all, "Oh, baby, you shouldn't have." Yeah, he really shouldn't have, although I have to admire the time it took to wrap that damn thing. Inside was another box, then another, until I came to the ring box. Because I have my pride-- and because I am also deeply suspicious of Joe-- I tried not to let my excitement show. I opened the box cautiously. Inside was a giant, 5-carat, soap or rubber fake ring. Attached to said ring was a little note, in Joe's handwriting, that said, "soon." Next to the 'soon' was a goddamned smiley face.

I didn't get mad. Well, I didn't get violent. I calmly closed the box, looked up and was met with Joe's laughter. He thought it was hysterical. Of course, he knew that I was getting the real one that night, so of course it was funny. He also told me that his mother supported this trick and thought it was funny. She knew about the real proposal, too. I, on the other hand, questioned his mother's personality-- how could she think such a thing was funny? He laughed and laughed and I told him that he was really mean. He pseudo-apologized and we went into the bedroom to get dressed for the Christmas Eve dinner we had planned.

About 45-60 minutes go by of us getting ready. The air wasn't tense, per se, but I was still a bit miffed. You see, Joe gains great pleasure out of teasing me, and teasing me about when he was going to propose (since I knew it was somewhat imminent) gave him more joy than he knew what to do with. I can take a lot of teasing, but the anticipation of being engaged was hard to deal with in a normal way, especially in the face of his constant joking about it. Anyway, he could tell I was upset.

I sat on the end of my bed putting my shoes on. The Simpsons were on the TV. Joe knelt down on the floor in front of me so that we were eye-level. In my huffiness, I failed to realize that he was on one knee. He said, "Don't be upset with me, it was just a joke." I said, "I'm not mad, I'm just . . . disappointed." He said, "I told you I wouldn't propose on Christmas. It's cheezy." I said, "I know, and I never thought you would, until I saw that damn box." Then he said, "But it's not Christmas. It's Christmas Eve." He then pulled a (different) ring box out of his suit pocket. "Braids,"-- although, thankfully, he used my real, full name-- "will you marry me?" In the box was the ring of my dreams, the one I had picked out a few weeks earlier. Uh, I said yes.

So, here we are. Just short of a mere 7 months of dating. But that doesn't even faze me, because I'm SO sure this is right. As Joe likes to point out (recently noticed by Green Eyed Girl, too), my very first Joe post is entitled "I Think I Found A Husband." Is that prophetic or what?

So, the ring. I wanted an antique. After a lot of online research and visits to at least 6 vendors in the overwhelming Diamond District of New YOrk City, I found the ring I had been looking for. From the 1930s, with the distinctive "leaves" of rings of that time that I love. My ring is actually a custom antique, because the jeweler had the setting alone. He called in his antique-diamond dealers and we got to pick the antique diamond (also from the 1930s) that fit the setting. I luuuurve it. Here's a pic: You can see the leaves and the main stone, although this picture does not do it justice. It is way more beautiful- and SO fucking sparkly-- in person.



Also, we will NOT be appearing in a Match commercial. I'm a Fed, people! I can't have my face and name plastered all over national TV!

Also also, I am not giving up on this blog. It needs to be re-imagined, obviously, since I am no longer dating. I was thinking of making it a wedding-planning blog, but I think that the stress of having to blog about the stress of planning my wedding might end up killing me instead of being an outlet. So I may just focus on pop-culture stuff. We'll see.

Happy New Year!