Mawage is what bwings us togeder tooooday
We’re gettin’ hitched. Is it time to completely freak out yet?
I’d had a pretty crappy weekend. And when that happens, I tend to take it out on the Beau Named Joe. So Monday, he sent me an IM while I was at work asking if I’d had dinner yet. I said I hadn’t so he told me he’d “whip something up.” Pretty sure I responded with, “Okay, wifey.”
I got home just before 10pm and found TBNJoe in the kitchen, slaving over the oven. He greeted me and said he had a surprise and pulled out a bouquet of roses. Awwww… he’s kind of a sap like that. And I totally thought it was because I’d just been having a rough couple of days. You know, because dinner and a bouquet of roses didn’t seem fishy to me at all.
So he sat me down at the table and served a late dinner of chicken, couscous, and peas. As we were finishing he said, “I’m going to put some shorts on. It’s hot in here.” Yeah, the oven tends to heat up the apartment like nobody’s business (note to self: save on heating bills by constantly baking in the winter). He proceeded to demand I refrain from cleaning up. I’m pretty notorious for putting away dishes even when he insists on doing it. I stayed put because I was exhausted and Joe went into the bedroom.
Joe returned to the dining room and said, “Oh, I forgot something.” He handed me one more rose… with a ring tied to it. Handing it to me, he asked those ridiculously cliche and traditional words: “Will you marry me?” Being the absolutely classy broad I am, I told him to shut up.
I answered the question: “Will you marry me?” with “Shut up.”
But I think the question was answered when I pretty much attacked his face. TMI? Whatever, you would’ve done it, too. Between kisses, he told me, “You didn’t answer my question!” (Shit, busted.) That’s when I finally squealed, “Of course!!!”
Oh, and the ring? Fucking beautiful. HUGE. Super sparkly. Please refer to the Captain Planet photo at the end of post.
So there you go, blogosphere. That’s the story. I’ve surprisingly become super shy about the whole ordeal and I don’t know why. (Maybe it had something to do with telling my mother and then having to repeat “I got engaged last night” to every. single. person. she ran into in the hallway at her school. Okay, Mom, enough embarrassment already. I don’t even know who these people are!) I liked those 12 hours when no one knew but us… I like the fact that it is our engagement, not something to broadcast. We haven’t told many people yet, just his family, my parents, and a few of my closest friends… and now, total strangers online. I just don’t want all of the attention at the moment… because it’s not about our friends, it’s about us. And everyone else is going to hound us with stupid ass questions, “Have you set a date?” “When are you going dress shopping?” “Where are you going to register?” And then when I hint to the fact that we don’t exactly want the traditional Catholic white wedding, I’m scared of being disappointing.
So that’s that, folks. The Beau Named Joe is no longer just my beau, he’s my fiance. But that doesn’t rhyme, so we’ll stick with the Beau. This isn’t going to become a crazy wedding blog just yet… he told me I’m not allowed to start wedding planning until after the election. He’s completely right because I have NO FREE TIME as it is.
And, in an attempt to take a good picture to send to the fam, this is what we ended up with: