Mr. Sushi and I had talked about our life together and marriage in the past, but I honestly never expected to receive a ring from Mr. Sushi. I always thought we would just go and do it… no ring needed. Plus (no offense, Mr. Sushi!) Mr. Sushi isn’t exactly Mr. Romantic.
We had just bought a condo in May 2007, so money was kinda tight. That Christmas, we decided to put a $30 price cap on each other for Christmas gifts. Yes, $30! We thought it would be a good way to save money and get creative with trying to find a gift in that price range. Well… Mr. Sushi went a lil’ over his $30 limit by a few hundred dollars and got on down on his knee on Christmas. His mom helped him pick the ring out, although he had a hell of a time trying to explain to his mom that he was buying an engagement ring that didn’t feature a diamond. I had told him long, long ago that diamonds weren’t really my thing. As pretty as they are, I like color.
There was a bit of confusion on that fateful day, though.
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My mama is the one in our family who reminds the rest of us about special dates - birthdays, anniversaries, etc. I think this role is stealthily being handed down to me but it looks like I have a lot of work to do… because Mama Sea Breeze called me yesterday morning to remind me of our own anniversary!
How on earth could I have forgotten? One year ago yesterday, Mr Breezy asked me to marry him… and in 41 days, I will.
When I joined the hive, I told you about how we met, but I never did get around to telling you about how he proposed.
As I found out after the fact, apparently, it was in the works for quite some time.
During a visit to El Rancho (as I affectionately call the ranch in Alberta where my parents live) last spring, my dad volunteered Mr Breezy to accompany him on a trip to the veterinarian with one of our horses. It turned out to be quite a memorable trip for him in more ways than one - on the way home after having witnessed a vet checking the fertility of the horse by, er, taking matters into own hands (ifyouknowwhatImean - I think he is still having nightmares), he took advantage of the rare situation of being alone with my dad to ask him if he could marry his daughter.
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Mr. Ballet Flat and I have a pretty interesting relationship. Before he even proposed, we were already talking about our big day and spending the rest of our lives together!
When Mr. Ballet Flat proposed to me, I think he really did his homework. See, I’m pretty darn shy around strangers, and I get embarrassed very easily when attention is brought my way. So, in my head, I was hoping he wouldn’t do a public type of proposal when the time came. I didn’t want people to watch me bawl like a baby and turn a candy apple shade of red.
Mr. Ballet Flat proposed to me on my birthday. Minutes after it turned midnight on March 16, actually. At the time, Mr. Ballet Flat had just recently closed on what will be our first home, and we were spending the weekends there painting, cleaning and renovating the house. So, needless to say, around that time, I was half asleep and pretty out of it. I didn’t expect this to happen at all!
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Full disclosure: I was that girl. You know, that girl whom, after a number of years of dating/co-habitating, becomes a dreadful nag about engagement. To be clear: I wasn’t the girl who cared about what “people” would think if we didn’t, or about Holy Ceremony, or even about the diamond. I was the girl who wanted to throw a terrific party to celebrate her overflowing love for the boy. But, I was a terrible nag… I admit.
A month or two before our 5 year anniversary, Mr. Meatball gently informed me that he would not be proposing on our anniversary, because he wanted me to enjoy it without expectation or disappointment. It was fair of him, and I was glad to have the pressure taken off. We decided to each take a weekend and plan something special for the other, as our gifts. He had the first weekend, which was that of our actual anniversary.
The Friday morning of that weekend, he laid out clothes for me to wear and woke me at 6AM. I had to be at work at 10:30 but he assured me I wouldn’t be late. I figured, based on the outfit and time, that we were going on an early hike. Then, as we got onto the highway, he had me pull out the directions from the glove box, where I found a AAA travel guide for Baja, Mexico!

Clearly in early morning shock.
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I went to Mr. Taffy’s apartment one Friday night in May. I was very hungry, and asked him as soon as I arrived where he wanted to have dinner.
He seemed really busy, and told me that he had to finish washing the dishes before we could go eat. I found it odd that there weren’t any dishes in the sink, and that he was enthusiastically scrubbing a plastic spinach container over and over.
I sat on the couch and listened to the record that Mr. T had put on, waiting for him to finish. Mr. Taffy seemed nervous, and after the song ended, asked me to flip the record over while he “finished the dishes”.
I got up to turn the record over and saw this:
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Mr. Fondue and I met at his 21st birthday party. I was sort of dating his roommate at the time, so I showed up to the party completely unprepared for meeting the man I was going to marry. However, the minute I laid eyes on Mr. Fondue, I knew.
He didn’t know right away, however. We talked and flirted over the next month before we finally started dating, but Mr. Fondue was so scared of commitment that he wouldn’t call me his girlfriend for the first six months we dated, despite the fact that neither of us was seeing anyone else. This was incredibly frustrating to me, seeing as I was already in love with him.
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One of my BM’s has been trying desperately to get me to watch the show “How I Met Your Mother” for a while. I don’t watch any TV at all, and only watch shows on DVD so I didn’t even know what that show was about, but she swore I would love it and made me swear to rent it. Two days ago she told me about a proposal story that occurred on the show and it made me tear up because I thought it was so original and romantic! I decided to try and look up the scene on YouTube this morning, and I found this CNN clip reporting the episode.
Apparently the show focuses on different types of relationships, including a newlywed couple hopelessly in love. Do you watch "How I Met Your Mother"? Is it worth the rent?
After my facial, the manager told me to keep my robe on because I had another stop to go to. She walked me upstairs and through what has to be the nicest and most luxurious gym I’ve ever seen in my life, and led me to the women’s locker room.
When I walked in, my friends Elle and Young were sitting there waiting for me (cue more tears)! They also had all of my makeup with them (how? magic??) AND a Victoria’s Secret box - with a new set of underwear. I was given instructions to take a shower and freshen up. After I reapplied my makeup and got all ready for the rest of the day, Elle and Young gave me my next clue.
Location 6: Third Floor Cafe
The Clue was, “When you wake up from your rest, go to where a 3rd became a 1st and order a coffee”
Mr. Martini somehow masterminded the most elaborate proposal for me. I had absolutely no idea it was going to happen at all - it was just a complete shocker for me! Although we have briefly spoken here and there about marriage in general, I didn’t like talking about “our” wedding or “our future life together” until we were actually engaged. I saw engagement as the next step, something completely different than being in a relationship. Although I knew and he always said he knew we were going to be forever, I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. What, me? Jaded? No way!
Little did I know, he had been plotting for quite a while.
To sum it all up in a jpeg, below is a snapshot of the actual spreadsheet he sent to our friends a couple of weeks before E-Day:

For those of you kind enough to be following the Hot Cocoas’ engagement story, you’ll remember that after a close run-in with Canadian immigration, we landed in Prince Edward Island, the destination of my surprise 31st birthday trip. P.E.I.’s tourism industry is centered around Anne of Green Gables. But while quite a bit of it is faux-Avonlea (complete with a faux village in which tourists sporting faux-Anne braids interact with faux-Annes, Dianas, and Gilberts), it’s also a real maritime province — rustic, charming, authentic: