Keep an eye out for the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse!

[essentialsaltes]

For some time, I've been considering this rash act. It came with my realization that May 2004 marks the point where I've spent half my life in a relationship with Rebecca. Another important consideration was the removal of a long-time obstacle. Rebecca had often stated that, as a form of protest, she wouldn't get married until the US recognized gay marriage. I don't know how seriously she took her protest, but the judicial system in Massachusetts seems to have broken that barrier down.
Of course, another thing that Rebecca said was that, if I were to propose to her, I had to do it properly: ring, bended knee, and no trace of camera crews, skywriting, blimps or other embarrassing paraphernalia that might serve to make a spectacle of us.
So I spent some time looking for a ring. Going to jewelry stores was depressing, as they were full of crappy crap. Expensive crap. I tried a couple antique jewelry places, but nothing was quite right, and much of it looked... used. I mean if it was grandma's ring, that'd be one thing, but if it's from random stranger's estate, I didn't see the point. So, true child of the Information Age that I am, I walked the streets of the internet, and found a decent site that makes antique reproduction jewelry. Rebecca loves garnets, so she got a cheapo semi-precious stone for her ring. (Score!) Well, there's also a couple specks of diamond that you can see under strong light if you squint. The rhodolite garnet is a bit rosy-purplier than your average deep red garnet. The ring itself is white gold in an 'Art Deco' filigree, and I like the design quite a bit, after having seen so many really atrocious ones.
Anyway, I popped the question Thursday evening after performing some lame prestidigitation by which I produced the ring out of a fortune cookie that accompanied our oh-so-romantic kung pao chicken and Szechuan beef. I whipped it out, got onto one knee, babbled something or other and thrust it on her finger when she gave the ok. Gents, I've discovered that the ring works a remarkable hypnotic effect on the female. As you pour your heart out, just move the ring slightly from side to side and watch the birdlike gaze of your sweetheart follow the shiny object. Soon they realize that the only way to get the shiny thing is to say "Yes". Piece of cake.
After that, we broke out the Veuve Clicquot (and later the Knappogue whisky).

I don't wanna upstage the birthday boys tonight, so if I see any of youse there, don't make too big a fuss.

Comments

[essentialsaltes.livejournal.com]

Congratulations. Who's going to do your cecremony?

I haven't got the faintest clue.

It's going to be better than ours, isn't it? Gah!

How could it possibly be better than yours?

Wait, this means a bachelor party, right?

Sorta kinda. Rebecca and I have always thought a coed 'bachelor' party was the way to go. Rebecca was talking toga party last night; I still want to conduct a sort of slave auction, where our friends offer up... services... to the highest bidder. Romans and slaves go together pretty well....

It's still a long way off, so it may be totally different, but I don't think anyone will be disappointed.

[rsheslin.livejournal.com]

Sounds like fun -- I'm sure we could find a baby sitter for such an important occasion!

[(Anonymous)]

Actually, *RAY* was talking toga. And guilty pleasures, for that matter. All I said, I think, was that men feel more comfortable indulging in guilty pleasures than women do, in general, but I want plenty of them for our party. And from there it somehow spiraled out of control.

I still REALLY don't know about the auction idea. With fake money, maybe, I guess. I don't think people would play with real money, and...well, I'm not wild about it.

But hey it's not all about me. All I want to say is I want it to be things that are genuinely entertaining, not just stupid. And at LEAST a week before the wedding--none of this hung over the day of stuff.