It got me thinking about how everyone seems to be getting old, getting hitched & having babies. It also got me to thinking about the whirlwind which was the beginning of my relationship.
I was living out a wild college year going on dates with 3 different guys a week. I remember the first time Mike came to my house & found three different vases of flowers in my room. Ohhh boy. But now I'm getting ahead of myself.
Basically, I wanted to go to Moose games, so I led some poor guy on so I'd have someone to go with. Same idea for guys with sexy cars & guys in bands. I probably just needed more girlfriends & attention from men who weren't as psychotically aggressive as the International students at my french Catholic school.
The guys I WAS interested in were narcissistic, egotistical sociopathic jotties (jerk hotties).
Mr. Ford is not a Jottie.
At the party he said shit all to me for the first two hours. I got to watch him hold a girl's hair back while she honked. 'That's nice' I thought. So not my type. The guy that was my type at the time was in the kitchen getting his chest hair shaved in the shape of a happy face.
I decided to attempt conversation with Mr. Ford anyway as I might as well make an effort to see if maybe, deep down he had jerk in him.
He was so shy & awkward I had to resort throwing pieces of cotton from the couch at him. I finally got him to talk about Fall Out Boy of all things... he was so sweet it was almost like he was a gentlemanly alien.
The following Wednesday we went on our first date to Earls (before the Jets were banging all the staff & making it sleazy). I forgot that I was wearing my crest Whitestrips & pulled them out of my mouth & in to a potted plant.
I remember he was ten minutes late because he stopped to buy me flowers. I thought it was cute but pretended to be really upset. There'd be no way I was going to allow him to the set the president if being late on a first date! (His time management skills still haven't improved).
To get to the point, the waitress had weird boobs & I was really distracted. He asked if he could come over to 'watch the Real World' & the rest is history.
He was funny, he was passionate, he loved animals, liked travelling & he was treating me like the gift to mankind that I imagined myself to be. This was not a guys whos approval I had to seek because I already had it. With any other nice-guy, this would be where I lost interest & went out looking for another asshole. But I was satisfied & proud & laughing. Always, ALWAYS laughing. This was it.
The next day MaryAnne called me a slut, (we DID NOT have sex, four years, a wedding & no unplanned pregnancies later, she still doesn't believe me) so I asked him to move out with me. The next week FACEBOOK informed me that we were in a relationship (coward!) & within three months we were in our first apartment.
Just before we moved in together I had been looking at rings online. I decided I wanted a 1 carat marquis cut diamond on plain platinum band. We went to the jewellery store to try such a ring on.
It was hideous. Don't ever buy an engagement ring without trying it on. Bluck.
We went to WK Chans to try on other rings. I loved a 1/2 carat Princess cut Canadian diamond on a Tiffany setting, but I LOVE-LOVED a 1 carat Emerald cut Canadian diamond on a white gold Tiffany setting. There was a $3000.00 price difference so I tried to convince him I liked the cheaper one better. I learned from snooping in his phone that he had had a .80 carat Emerald diamond cut for the setting.
All that being said, I knew it was coming, just not when. Given the unconventional beginning to our marriage, it's good to keep some tradition.
The day of, I was home from work at 10:30 at night. I specifically remember wearing jeans that are too tight & give me IBS flare-ups & a white CUSB sweatshirt that was a b*tch to keep clean.
I was so tired I didn't notice the rose petals outside our apartment door.
When I got through the door it was dark, with 100 roses & 100 candles & my not-jottie dressed in his best.
All the attention, all the pressure. I couldn't handle it.
I panicked, ran to the bathroom & locked the door, only coming out half an hour later when Mr. Ford cried that he had worked so hard to put it all together & that he had dinner for me.
The good news: we got engaged. The bad news: My panic attack & social awkwardness made me lose out on a proposal speech.
Just when I thought that the adventures of the day were over, I went back in to the bathroom again (to do regular bathroom stuff this time).
In our wastebasket I found a used tampon applicator that did not belong to me. In my shock & fury, I pulled it out with my bare hands.WHO CHEATS AS THEIR PROPOSING TO THEIR FUTURE WIFE?!?!?
Turns out it belonged to Mike's friend who had come over to help him prepare. She was not interested in my husband or any man for that matter. Lesbians 1, Rebecca 0.