Weddingbee Blog

This is the story of two Thimbles and five rings over eight years in three parts. Go!

Mr. Thimble and I were very forward with each other when we decided we’d like to date. The only problem was, our timing didn’t line up. I had never really spoken to Mr. T—we never spent any time together on a school project or in a social setting—when he stopped in front of me on the walk from first period to homeroom, turned around, and handed me a pretty little gift bag containing this:

[Source; Please note, this is "vintage" on Etsy... circa 2002]

Ring 1. It was junior year in high school, totally “random” (the cool word to say relentlessly), and I was a little weirded out and confused.

I have to give him credit though, because nearly a year later, hanging out with a mutual friend, hoagies from Holland Deli, and a game of Stratego on a half day, I decided I liked him. In February of our senior year, I asked Mr. Thimble to officially ask me to be his girlfriend—on his birthday. Two weeks later, we initiated the L-word. [I know, right? So against high school rules.]

On one of our early pre-label not-dates, we went for a jog after school and I somehow lost my class ring in my pathetic effort to flirt/shove/win Mr. T over. (We’ll call this Ring 2.) I replaced it—but Mr. Thimble later referred to this first hang-out when he came up with his own place holder on my left hand on our one-year anniversary.

It was his birthday again! And he drove across half of Pennsylvania, picked me up from school in Allentown, and we spent the weekend on our home turf. We were enjoying some [PG] alone time in his room when he kneeled down (to be on my level—I was sitting), told me he loved me and hoped to spend the rest of his life with me, and gave me a promise ring. I confess, I asked for said promise ring—I suggested it because we knew we were in love, but we met too early in a way (think Beach Boys’ Wouldn’t it be Nice). Being apart all the time in college was painful, so I wanted a token. Like, a ring from a toy machine in the grocery store. He bought me a bitty, sparkly diamond and he wanted me to keep it (I tried to exchange it for something cheaper, no lie). Ring 3.

Now it’s time to spare you the angst of 3.5 more years apart in college, and jump ahead to our post-baccalaureate move to Los Angeles for law school and acting dreams:

{from the Thimble photo collection}

We drove, ate and hiked our way to our tiny shared studio, Disneyland, and a bakery job.

We really enjoyed LA for the most part—but we’re East-Coasters at heart. So, we law school transferred it back East to New York. And as Mr. Thimble flew on ahead of me to get us set up, I did a bang-up job of packing up our first home and prepping for a road trip with my dad:

{picture taken by a Thimble}

We sold all our furniture, and I was left with a mess, space saver bags, and a helpful PoppaThimble.

And in this mess…? Before my dad arrived…? I lost my promise ring. Ring (-)3. We looked, I made excuses (I had developed itchy hives from it from either gaining weight or too much soapy hand washing at the bakery!). But we did not find my ring. So we bid LA adieu:

{thimblepics}

Large-format photographing dad meet the Grand Tetons, and this road-tripping plastic menagerie.

The ring may have gone missing, but the promise still stuck with us, obviously, despite my heartbreak and disappointment in myself. Clearly, I’m the kind of gal who would lose her head if it wasn’t attached. Once we were comfortable in New York, surrounded by my college friends, in a bigger apartment, I began to reeeaaallly love our lives and the nest we’d built together. And I started to get a little pushy for the next step… {to be continued…}

So, has anyone else road tripped across our great nation? (Am I avoiding the issue much?)

But seriously- Did any of you take the promised/pre-engaged step to satisfy a too-young or otherwise unprepared desire for commitment? Or do you call shenanigans on the jewelry industry?