May 30th marked our engage-iversary, so I think the story of our proposal is a little overdue. After such a romantic beginning to dating, Mr. Funnel Cake will tell you we had an anticlimactic proposal, but I still think it was romantic.
At this point in Swiss-visa-land, I was working as a designer with a 12-month temporary permit that was able to be extended an additional six months. Mr. Funnel Cake and I traveled to Brazil together in April 2010 for his cousins’s wedding. I was lucky enough to go for two-and-a-half weeks and meet lots of Mr. FC’s Brazilian side of the family, who were so very welcoming and nice despite my inability to speak Portuguese.
Mr. Funnel Cake was oh-so-very-lucky to have three weeks of vacation time more than me, so he stayed on enjoying his holiday in his mother’s homeland while I headed back to work. Major tears. Have I mentioned how much I hate goodbyes at the airport?
When I went back to work, I actually had the honour of traveling to Madrid, Spain to act as a host for some Brazilians during the 2010 UEFA Champions League final. For any of you football (soccer) fans out there, this is really a huge event and it was insanely cool, but folks, let me be honest with you. I was basically there as the caretaker for six rowdy Brazilians who were being very, very stereotypically Brazilian.
Every night I would email Mr. Funnel Cake about the crazy things the Brazilians were doing…dragging me around the city trying to make me drink alcohol and party, searching the town for prostitutes, trying to hold my arms as we walked or massage me, and begging me to “forget my boyfriend for juuust onnne night—just one night!” If these men had wives and children at home (which I found out later they did), you couldn’t tell. They wanted to have a good time, while I wanted to be a good girlfriend.
Mr. Funnel Cake was no stranger to how Brazilian men can act toward women, and he was at the time surrounded by Brazilian men flirting with women in Brazil, so he was seeing it firsthand. In fact, his Brazilian friend was trying to flirt with him, and when he straightaway turned her down, she was impressed by our long-distance faithfulness. She asked him in all honesty, “If you end up with somebody here while you are vacationing, will you tell her?” to which Mr. FC replied, “I won’t end up with anybody else anywhere!” His obviously different attitude than the local men impressed his friend. Different worlds!
Inter Milan during the final game
Mr. FC trusted me completely, but he was downright jealous of the Brazilians’ shenanigans, and he was relieved when I finished up my Madrid duties unscathed. However, when I returned to Switzerland, I was beginning to face the harsh reality that the Swiss immigration office would not be entertaining any more visas for me alone. (Ever.) Especially not the fancy B-permit visa I was lusting after. It was very clear that my company would not apply for a permit for me, and my temporary permit was running out.
I was becoming increasingly stressed that it was over and I would have to pack my bags and say goodbye to Switzerland and Mr. Funnel Cake (for a while). I typed my heart out to Mr. Funnel Cake and told him about my worries and the terrible reality I was facing. He tried to calm me down over Skype and told me that he had a plan. What plan, I asked him?? And he wouldn’t say. Was it Plan Z??
Mr. Funnel Cake came back from Brazil on a Wednesday and said we would talk about his plan on the weekend. So I let it go and tried not to think of my troubles.
The weekend came. Friday, Saturday, Sunday. Still no “plan.” Was he going to ignore my problem?? I was beginning to get a little sad about the looming stress. In the evening on Sunday, Mr. Funnel Cake made green thai curry for me. And yes, it was delicious.
He always makes bunny ears for me.
After dinner, Mr. Funnel Cake asked me if I wanted to hear his plan. YES! He came to my side, got down on one knee, and asked me if I would marry him. “Yes, of course!” I said, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. He told me he’d been looking forward to time alone in Brazil to think about marrying me, but when I left he realised there was nothing to think about because he knew he wanted to be with me forever. It was as simple as that.
After that, Mr. Funnel Cake reached into his pocket and pulled out a simple silver ring. (We had not talked about rings at all yet, so I was surprised he had one.)
He told me it was something temporary he bought in Brazil until we could find something better, and he slipped it on my finger. Uh, my right finger, that is. You see, Mr. Funnel Cake is used to women wearing rings on the right hand when they are engaged, as I found out.
He tried to judge how big it was on his pinky finger. Very cute, but not quite accurate.
The ring was several sizes to big, so I ended up having to switch it to my middle right finger for the time being. After that, Mr. Funnel Cake got out the homemade coconut-pineapple-rum ice cream he made, and I died a little from delight.
Mr. FC still apologises that he couldn’t plan to take me to the top of an exotic mountain or some remote area to propose to me in a dramatic fashion, but when I tell people that he flew back from Brazil, made me dinner, and then proposed…it still sounds pretty good. Maybe those Brazilians really gave him a good scare.
What was your proposal like? Did anyone have a very unplanned engagement?
Need to catch up?