Weddingbee Blog

First things first: give me a break, as I’ve never been proposed to before. Unless you count the numerous times Mr. Taco has “proposed”, which may explain in part why I was so dumb about the whole thing.

(How’s that for a start to the story?)

Anyway, we had plans for weeks to have our two-year anniversary dinner at Range, a very delicious (I think, I was very distracted) spot in SF. I came home after he did, and I assumed his slightly nervous tick was due to some kind of anniversary surprise hidden somewhere in the house.

As per usual with special events like anniversaries and Valentine’s Day, we split a bottle of wine while sitting on the floor of our bedroom. We do this because the first time we hung out, before I even thought about dating him, and far before I lived there, we spent hours one night sitting on that floor and talking. (Yes, that’s all we did, perverts — talk.) So it made sense to celebrate our two-year mark this way before heading out to dinner. He suggested I get ready all the way (instead of sitting there in socks, a dress and no makeup for a while like usual) so we could enjoy one of our nicer bottles of wine before heading out.

Then…he asked me how my day was.

And I started to drone on (and on) about work, what I did, and who bothered me that day. Now that I think about it, this was probably an excruciating few minutes for him.

We eventually reminisced about our two years gone by, and he asked if I remember if, when I’d do something cute, he’d immediately ask me to marry him. I sure did! Silly us. Then, he brought up how I eventually started to question how I’d know when/if he was asking for real… at which point he always said I’d just know. (So much for that.)

There, he pulled a ring out of his pocket and asked me to marry him.

I think for us ladies, a proposal (and the resulting wedding) is the one unifying thing we’re all fairly certain will happen to us. We think about how it’ll go down, who it’ll be, and how great it’ll be to start our own personal fairy tale. Mine, I’m somewhat embarrassed to say, started uniquely with a response of something like, “that’s not real!?”

We seriously had an actual conversation about it, in which I was trying to determine if it was some kind of faux-diamond, ill-timed anniversary present. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously for way too long, and asked way too many questions, including whether our parents and friends knew and how exactly he was able to afford something like that (tacky of me?), given the tiff we had just had a few days prior about money. A few more excruciating minutes (for him) went by, and I finally said yes.

Bonus: he handed it back to me and then told me to put it on. Proposal FAIL (he eventually put it on for me).

And you bet your ass they all lived happily ever after.

Did you meet your proposal with a little disbelief that it was really happening?