Weddingbee Blog

The Time: Summer 2008

The Place: New York City-San Francisco

The Moods: Happy Together/Annoyed and Apart Again/Needing a Change.

The summer of 2008 was one of confusion and action for me. I was deeply unhappy in my restaurant job meant to support my acting career, and Mr. Thimble was enjoying a summer of getting wined, dined, vacationed and well paid in his summer associate position at a law firm. I was in a dark what-am-I-doing-with-my-life place staring into a dark immediate future of 6 weeks sans Mr. T while he worked the second half of his summer at the firm’s San Francisco office, enjoying a new city where he’s always wanted to live while I stayed behind.

There was one thing I knew was good and bright in my life, however: We Thimbles were coming up on 6 1/2 years of “us”. And I wanted the one great amazing thing in my life to be nailed down and constant.

The morning Mr. Thimble left for SF, I came up with a plan.

I bought a plane ticket to San Francisco. I gave my 2 weeks at the restaurant. I threw myself into as many shifts as possible, saved as much money as I could, secured a job at my friend’s shoe store for my return, and I flew away.

Thimbleman (trying to find more names for him—work with me here) had planned a romantic weekend for us to Big Sur. It was just what we needed, and soooo much way better than spending an awkward visit with his Craigslist roommate in Oakland. And it was extremely expectation-inducing.

We reconnected, relaxed, shared lots of great vino and views. Back in the city, my Thimbler brought me to a show at ACT. I walked around North Beach in SF while he worked. And I found some of the balance and focus that I desperately needed. What we did not do that long weekend was get engaged.

The night before I had to get on a plane back to our empty apartment, I got a text message from a friend from high school that read, “I’m engaged!!” Go figure.

I mean, who wouldn’t want to propose to this:

Fortunately, my time back East without my partner in life was restaurant job free and brief. Turns out, If you’re close with my family and you’re going to be somewhere pretty cool for a little while, you can rest assured my mom will plan a ten-day vacation around it. So I spent two or so weeks on my own again in New York: rejuvenated, happy, selling top notch dance shoes, visiting home, and droning on to anyone who would listen—Mr. T’s friends included—about how ready I was to be get hitched to the guy.

I met my fam in Newark and flew to SF again. The Thimble in-laws were there the week before us, and we had one weekend of overlap. Mr. T thought suggested we go to a tourist spot on Friday afternoon, and he’d cut his last day at the firm in half for love of family. Or, that was how I interpreted it.

Instead he clarified over cell that he thought he and I could walk up to Coit Tower from his office alone, so we could actually hang out and see each other and talk before the mayhem of the 2-family weekend ensued. My folks dropped me off at his office, and the long, uphill battle began.

{our destination}

I think it’s fair to say I was a little jet-lagged and irritable from our journey, and five minutes into our walk (hike!) I needed to find a ladies’ room. (This is relevant info to set the scene.) Thimble tried to find me a bathroom in a maze of an indie bookstore where, of course, there is no public bathroom, so our hill-scaling search continued while Mr. T thought it was a brilliant time to bring up that he really likes the SF office and the people and wants to stay here—what do I think?

Since I wasn’t feeling particularly polite, I told him we’d had this conversation and the answer was still no. We’d already moved back and forth across the country and I didn’t want to again any time soon. And—here’s the good part—why would I move across the country for him to a city that has nothing for me (but it’s a great place—don’t get me wrong) when I couldn’t even get a commitment from him. I didn’t even know if he was in it for the long haul! He reiterated that he wasn’t ready, and I huffed up the hills in silence (with a brief interlude at a burrito place for the loo and a Diet Coke).

By the time we reached Coit Tower, I had lightened up a bit. We shared a giggle or two over the murals on the walls on the gift shop level, and we enjoyed the 360-degree views at the top. All the while, I was trying to see myself in this sprawling city where my other half “kinda” wants to be. I finally relaxed and walked over to Mr. Thimble at a different window for a hug and a, “ready yet?”

{Thimbleman contemplating the city he loves more than me}

I looked out for my last glimpse of the view, and when I looked back at Mr. Thimble, he was holding a ring between his fingers and said something like:

“I didn’t think there’d be this many people up here, or I’d get on one knee… will you marry me?”

And I reacted something like:

“What? Wait, really? Um, yes! Wait, that’s my Grandmom’s ring, right?” (Ring 4, more on that later.) I guess I put the ring on, then asked, “You’re not just asking because I forced you to, right?” I remember pushing him, and I remember wanting to scream or something, but the whole scene attracted literally NO attention from the surrounding crowd of mostly German tourists. We didn’t even asked anyone to take a picture of us.

Mr. Thimble explained that he’d been throwing me off and that he’d planned to ask me all summer. Um, thanks!! I must have half floated home because I hardly remember the walk back with the same clarity as the walk there. We stopped at his folks’ hotel to tell them because he hadn’t even given them a heads up about the proposal. His dad was getting back from a run and his mom was taking a nap. (Oops.)

Meanwhile, my parents were eagerly awaiting our return with gifts and stories of ThimblePop hiding the ring from me in his pocket and through airport security.

Both families joined up for dinner to celebrate, and we spent the rest of the trip touring the city and Sonoma, letting the engagement sink in (and enjoying our post-commitment making time with my family):

Was your proposal story what you expected? Were any of you as crazypants as me from the waiting or as guilty of pressuring your man?

*All personal pictures by the ThimbleFam