Wednesday, October 18, 2006
So I’m a bride-to-be. It’s wonderful, it’s weird, and it’s conducive to drinking lots of champagne. I know that weddings are often portrayed as stressful events, but four days into it, I can tell you that being engaged rocks so far.
The engagement “story”, for those of you who want to know these things, goes like this:
On Friday night (the 13th, which some might consider a questionable omen, EXCEPT that 13 is my lucky number as I was born on the 13th of April. Which also means that Friday was my half birthday. But I digress…) Jeff and I went to a dinner party hosted by my mother and attended by a randy British couple, a few other mixed-and-matched parents, and their collective progeny, who passed an enjoyable evening shouting and hurling themselves down flights of stairs. In other words, a recipe for romance.
No, but seriously, the dinner party was a lot of fun, and Jeff and I wandered home around 11:00, both of us tipsy from too much wine. Nothing was out of the ordinary, so I was surprised when, upon entering our apartment, Jeff dropped to one knee.
“Honey,” I said, taking off my coat with inebriated patience, “Did you drop something?”
Jeff looked up at me adoringly. “Marry me,” he said.
I laughed. “Yes.” I replied, and kissed him. We migrated to the couch.
“Will you marry me?” he asked again.
What followed were about ten minutes of my asking the same question, rephrased: “Are you serious?”; “Really?”; “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”; “If this is a joke, I will kick your ass.” (Not a question, granted, but a related threat). Jeff assured me that he was very serious, and, as a last protective measure I threw down the gauntlet.
“I’m calling my sister,” I said, watching his face for signs of surrender. “Once I call my sister it’s real.”
Jeff leaned back and cocked one eyebrow. “Go ahead,” he taunted.
I called Zoe, and she screamed and squealed and cried, and then I screamed and squealed while Jeff looked somewhat taken aback. Then he took me into the dining room and we danced to Fred Astaire singing “Cheek to Cheek.”
And now, not five days later, we’re set to be married on a Friday next October. And we couldn’t be happier.
AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! You guys, I’m getting married! I fear that you are in for a long year, dear readers. I hope you care a lot about things like place settings and fabric swatches. As we go through the preparations together, just remember:
Champagne makes everything easier.