Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Engaged

It’s still not quite sunk in. I’m engaged. As in, I’m going to get married. (I know, that seems obvious but it took me a while to get to realizing that step).

Gilles is my fiance. I’m his fiancee.

I have over a grand wrapped around my finger. It is gorgeous though.

There are so many implications of being engaged. So much to do, so much to think about. I truly haven’t even grasped the edge of that yet.

I think, as this blog has become both my personal journal and my catharsis, I will document the journey here.
I am getting married exactly nine months from today – July 9th, so it will be quite a journey. A quick one.
:) You can expect a lot of wedding posts. (I hope you don’t mind)… of course, I will continue to blog about the rest of my life too, so you can expect more posts in general .

I have noticed three things since I have gotten engaged (Saturday).

1. The first thing every single person asks is to see the ring. (See the last post before this one if you haven’t seen my pictures of the ring yet btw)

2. The second thing everyone wants to do is hear how he asked. So, here we go. (Ironically I have this story down to a science now… I don’t think I’ve even been changing any of the words the last few times).
I was already in my costume. My hair was curled and pinned, my make-up was on, my costume was on. I was Eve (as in, Adam and Eve.) Gilles had his costume on, but needed my help with his contacts. He wanted to wear purple contacts, but has never worn contacts before in his life. I was fighting to try to get his first contact in, and we had been working on it for about twenty minutes already. He was getting really antsy (which looking back, isn’t like him at all but I thought he was just excited or something). He kept saying that I should just pack them up and I can tape his costume up and put in his contacts for him at the party.

Meanwhile, I kept insisting that once we got there I didn’t want to be hiding in the bathroom trying to put his contacts in, I wanted to hang out with my friends. He was always telling me to lighten up and stop micromanaging every second, so I was trying to do that. But he kept insisting that we had to leave by seven, and he didn’t want to be late. I was getting frustrated and told him that either I was putting them in now, or I was throwing them out. He told me to just throw them out then, but I responded that it would be a waste of $30 to just give up and throw them out. I kept trying for a few minutes. Meanwhile we were both becoming more and more frustrated with each other (as often happens when two stubborn people have opposing opinions, so I thought nothing out of the ordinary with it).

However, then he said to me, “Look. You are impossible to surprise. There is a limo coming to pick us up and it is going to be here at seven so we have to leave at seven.”

My jaw dropped to the floor.

After a pause I snapped into action, put the contact back in its case, and shoved my entire make-up kit in my purse. (Yeah, not sure why I did that). I grabbed the contacts and ran downstairs to put my shoes and coat on.

Meanwhile Gilles was peering outside, and told me that the limo was already here, and that he couldn’t remember if he told the driver we would be in costume.

He helped me to the car (well, actually he started trotting off toward the car while I locked the door, until I asked him if he was seriously expecting me to get to the car without falling on my face on the ice in my heels, and then he helped me to the car).

He had champagne ready for us inside, and informed me that we had the limo for an hour, and then it would drop us off at the party. We chatted some, commented on the limo, commented on the view of the city. About half an hour in, he leaning in for a kiss and started rummaging in his pocket. It was at this point that I clued in what was going on.

He stopped rummaging in his pocket, but I was too nervous to look, so I kept our lips locked. Finally he started giggling so I had to pull away. He held the ring up to me, and sat there looking at me. I couldn’t say anything for a moment, then it became apparent that he wasn’t going to say anything either. The conversation following went a little like this.

Me: You’re just going to sit there?

Gilles: My costume will get in the way if I try to kneel.

Me: I’m sure you can figure it out

Gilles kneels on the floor of the limo. I continue to stare at him, waiting for him to say something.
Gilles: [after a seemingly endless pause that was probably only 2 seconds] Will you marry me?
Me: [while shoving my hand out because he is still holding the ring out as though he wants to set it in the palm of my hand] Yes!

At this point Gilles puts the ring on my finger, and sits back down. I kiss him. He proceeds to ask where the champagne went. I had put it in the cupholder things about 15 min prior”

I spent the rest of the ride spontaneously grinning and waving my hands, and saying “Wow. You’re my fiance. That’s so weird. And I’m your fiancee. Weird.”

Yeah. I’m classy.

…. and the camera battery was dead so we didn’t get any pictures of the limo. Once I get them however, I will post some pictures from the party, and I will take some nice artsy pictures of my ring for you. (Oh yeah, and did I mention that Gilles was dressed up as an executioner?)

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