...And Everyone's Still Talking About That Cake

I've started writing this post several times, and tripping over my words. Usually, that happens to me when I'm talking, not when I'm writing. But in this case, even when writing, I find myself at a bit of a loss. Sometimes that happens, when you're just completely overwhelmed by just how incredible the people around you are.

A few weeks ago, the parents were all in town. The MOB, FOB, MOG, and FOG all came in to see the show. The show, which was a lot of fun but also sucked up all the free time the fiance and I might have had. We hit the pause button on wedding planning. We certainly didn't have the bandwidth to put together a nice little party while our parents were in town.

So our friends did it for us - the world's best engagement party.

The Diva (Photo by FOG)

Our cherished friend Denise - AKA "the Diva" - was the amazing powerhouse behind the world's best engagement party. It was her idea, her coordination, her lovely and humbling gift. Denise is a director, and in addition to having a wonderful vision for this party, she assembled a stellar cast to help her; our friends Malaika and Nate, in particular, who helped with everything from decorations to collecting addresses from attendees.

There were several things that made this the world's best engagement party, but two things stand out above all: the people who were there, an assembly of family and urban family whose love and support filled the room to overflowing... AND THE CRAZY AWESOME CAKE.

THE CRAZY AWESOME CAKE.

People are still talking about that cake. Because it was crazy awesome. And perfect.

It was an intimate and lovely evening. Denise supplied champagne and invited guests to make toasts. Many toasts were made, some funny, some poignant (my dad promised he wouldn't tear up during his, but then did anyway), and concluded with a toast from the hostess herself, along with a Khalil Gibran poem.

Leaving that night, I felt so incredibly blessed. So undeservedly fortunate. Denise's generosity, and the goodwill of our loved ones, is more than I can ever adequately respond to with enough thanks. Re-living it all again, I'm a blubbering mess, y'all. (And that's just over the engagement party. Imagine me at the freaking wedding. The off-season, ugly-girl-crying bride...)

Revelers! (Photo by Wayne Thomas)

I would go on and on, but I'd just get more emotional. So instead I'll just say thank you. Thank you, Diva. Thank you, urban family. From the bottom of my (ugly-girl-crying) heart.

Us (Photo by FOG)

“Love one another, but make not a bond of love: Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls...” - Kahlil Gibran

This Little Light of Ours

As my loyal readers (all ten of you beautiful creatures) may recall, the fiancé and I don't have the most romantic of proposal stories. This is not a surprise, really. "Romantic" is not a word frequently used to characterize us - but never say never.

Unbeknownst to  the fiancé, I saved the bottle of wine we were drinking that night. I hid it in the kitchen, because I had plans for that bottle. Big plans. At one point, when I was gone, he found the empty hidden bottle and put it in the recycling bin. Luckily, I noticed it, retrieved it, and did a better job of hiding it... until I could get it to my friend Juniper.

Because my friend Juniper's husband Del takes bottles, and makes art; functional art, no less - objects like lamps. While that's cool any day of the week, I thought it would be particularly perfect to preserve the modest little bottle of red with which we toasted our engagement. What better way to preserve it than to have an artist transform it into something that would continue to illuminate?

Many thanks, Juniper and Del. This little bottle will be with us for quite some time, and we're gonna let it shine.

THE STORY

"When do we get to hear The Story?"

I've been getting that question a lot. Truth be told, it's a bit disappointing for a writer to suddenly have everyone asking her about The Story, only to swiftly realize that they don't mean that novel you're working on, they mean OMG HOW DID HE ASK YOU TO MARRY HIM WAS IT SUPER ROMANTIC THIS IS BANANAS I'M ALREADY CRYING!!!???

Seriously, though, it's sweet.

When people ask about The Story, I mean. That's sweet: friends' excitement, exuberant curiosity, wanting to know how this fabulous news came to be. The Story itself, well - at first glance, it's not actually what a tale that would be universally characterized as sweet. It's certainly not epic or flowery. No one gets down on one knee and there were no flash mobs. If you want to see something like that, watch this couple instead:

ALL THAT SAID, I'll oblige all of y'all and tell The Story. Then we'll see if it's sweet (or OMG-BANANAS-worthy) or not. So here it is:

How We Got Engaged
Or, The (Lack of a) Story

Once upon a time, there were two lovely, brainy, and romantically-inept people who loved each other and were already pretty ding dang committed to each other and had started finally talking about the fact that honoring and formalizing that commitment might be nice. There was discussion about a ring, and two things were decided about said ring:

1) Spending a crazy amount of money on a ring actually is crazy - or, said in a less judge-y way, spending more than they could afford on a ring just wouldn't do for these two.
2) One couple's joy shouldn't be symbolized by anyone else's misery; in other words, no blood diamonds or shady-gems allowed.

This led to the decision to procure a certified-ethical, sustainably-produced diamond from Canada. Aboot time, eh?*

Speaking of time. It takes some time for an cruelty-free international engagement ring to arrive at one's doorstep. No matter what the tracking information says. Which means that on two separate occasions, planned romantic proposal situations were thwarted by the postal system and its tediously slow delivery of The Canadian Ring.

To make a long (and, for real, not that interesting relative to all the other crazy awesome stories we could tell you) story short, the ring dawdled and no romantic proposal happened.

Then one Monday night, after a somewhat long and stressful day, our heroes were sitting on the couch. Feeling like they needed a pick-me-up, they decided to have an upscale takeout night, and were eating some delicious gourmet pizza and drinking some good red wine. After finishing an episode of Game of Thrones (clearly, the most romantic show ever... um, not really) while snuggling with the pets, this conversation took place:

Me: This is just a really good night.
He: Hold that thought.
(He runs upstairs, and comes back down with a small box.)
Me: Hold on.
(I chug the remainder of my glass of good red wine.)
He: Let's see if this fits.
Me: Is this really happening?
(He puts a ring on my finger.)
He: Yes.
Me: Don't you have to ask me a question, or something?
He: Okay. Do you want to love me for the rest of your life?
Me: That's the plan. Do you want to love me for the rest of your life?
He: Already doing it.

I had to go to a jeweler later that week-- because, as it turns out, the ring didn't fit.

But the proposal actually did.

*I grew up near the Canadian border and would just like to go ahead and apologize to my Northern neighbors for that cheesy accent joke, even if it's pretty accurate. Also, thanks for the cruelty-free sparkler, Canada!