Weddingbee Blog

Mr. D and I have been doing the long-distance relationship for almost two years now. Let me preface this by saying I was not expecting a proposal while we were still living apart. (Well, maybe a part of me hoped.) I had come home for my 24th birthday in August 2010 because we were planning a fabulous weekend in Des Moines to celebrate with my friends. We were not going to drive down to Des Moines until the day after my birthday, which was a Saturday, so I spent my actual birthday on Friday holed up in the apartment with our two cats since Mr. D had to work most of the day. (This is while he still had a job where he had to work hours in an office.) While the cats were amusing, it wasn’t how I imagined spending my special birthday.

Personal photo

This is Smudge and Kelly Clarkson: My troublesome duo. Mr. D and I adopted these frisky sisters in June 2007 (and seriously, they are from the same litter). They are lounging here on Mr. D’s ugly man-chair that they fortunately clawed up before we fixed them, and I was able to throw it out.

I know what you are saying right now, too: “What? Her 24th is a big deal? Isn’t her 25th supposed to be the big one after 21?” For most people that is true, but for someone like me, whose favorite number is 24, this was a big birthday. Twenty-four is seriously my favorite number in the world. It was my number for sports in school, and it’s in my email address and anything else you can imagine. I feel lucky when one of my fortune-cookie numbers is 24—I know it’s going to be a good day, good fortune or not. So to spend the luckiest of days cooped up in an apartment kinda sucked. And since we live about two hours away from my friends, I only got to escape for a few hours to Barnes and Noble by myself to grab some Starbucks and birthday books.

Mr. D came home at around ten that night super tired. He was kind of grumbly, which in turn made me kind of grumbly. I had been in an apartment all day with two cats who may be cute, but are crappy conversationalists. Mr. D, being grumpy, did not want to talk. So I left him in the bedroom to sulk by himself and went to have myself a Grey’s Anatomy marathon on Netflix without him. Finally he came in and apologized, already in his pajamas. I was hoping that he was going to take me out for drinks, but his flannel boxers and beat-up T-shirt suggested otherwise. After watching an episode or two, I got up to also change into my pajamas. Mr. D asked if I would grab his wallet for him out of his jeans in the room. He warned me to be careful because the wallet was starting to fall apart.

Now, this wallet is one of Mr. D’s most prized possessions. I bought it for him on a trip to Italy, so it’s one of those soft-like-butter, black-leather Italian wallets. The kind that don’t need breaking in because they are already perfect. He still uses it now even though if you turn his wallet any wrong way, stuff comes sliding out. He refuses to retire it, despite me telling him that I have friends stationed in Italy who can send another.

Mr. D’s craptacular, totally beat-up wallet. As you can see, it doesn’t even really hold anything.

I went into the room and changed into my own at-home jammies that consisted of sweatpants from high school and a Grateful Dead T-shirt from the ’80s that is so beat up there are more holes than material (one of my most prized possessions, so I guess I can’t judge Mr. D). I grabbed his jeans and slipped my hand into his pocket. Instead of his poor wallet, I pulled out a ring box. Without opening it I ran to the living room, half squealing, half laughing. Mr. D was waiting on his knee. The first thing he said when he saw the ring box was closed was, “Good, I was worried you would already have the ring on and would have already called everyone.” He took the ring box from me and asked if I would be his partner and wife. I of course said yes. He proposed with a one-carat white sapphire solitaire in a white-gold setting because he knew that a) I do not like diamonds (I know my first ring was a diamond, but it was an heirloom, which is the only reason I wore it.), and b) he wasn’t sure of the alternatives out there like asha and moissys and such and wanted this to be a placeholder ring. We have since picked out our new ring (which is an entirely new post), and Mr. D is planning on doing something special with the stone.

My ring posing with some fireworks in honor of the Fourth of July! / Personal photo

The rest of the night we snuggled on the couch and basked in our own love. We didn’t even call our families or post it on Facebook; instead we stayed in our own engagement bubble for about 12 hours before we started to make the calls. It really was the most special birthday ever! And we had a blast partying in Des Moines with the friends. It was definitely a weekend to remember.

It was the best birthday ever! I even finished Das Boot (though Das Boot totally made me regret it later). / Personal photo

Was your engagement exactly you? Were you expecting more? Less?