Tuesday, July 25, 2006
i have to admit
school was more fun before i knew about getting married.
don't get me wrong. it's still a revelation, but. it's a lot less effort to cruise the interwebs for reception sites with a view of lake union than it is to keep reading black feminist theory.
it struck me that to the extent that anyone really wanted further information, it was possibly about the proposal and not the less-consequential details of the wedding itself and exactly which weird bourgie yacht club it's going to happen in. so, just know that the proposal was lovely, stomach viruses notwithstanding, i was wearing four plys of clothing and unwashed hair, and the campfire watched the whole thing go down. i immediately asked him to ask me again, because (and i can't believe this is true, but some weird adrenaline fight-or-flight took over my joy mechanism and it was all just SHOCK SHOCK SHOCK or mostly anyway until the next morning when we had to strike camp and make it to the airport and navigate in my good friend's corolla through NoCal and we thank god stopped here for breakfast (i'm wearing the t-shirt) where, in case you're wondering, they have splits of napa valley sparkling whatever not-champagne and it got magnificently real in this one moment and i cried and he said, that's what i thought you were going to do last night. and it was just a tiny bit delayed, but so lovely.
and after he asked me again, i asked if i could propose to him, and it totally did not come out the way i'd planend for the pulitzer people to hear it. i'm relatively sure it started with, "well, we've been seeing an awful lot of each other," and finished with, "will you be my wife?"
anyway. it's about the yacht club or whatever right now (since when has it ever been so hard to know what i want? i'm just going to say that one of my friends who put the verbal poo-poo on a venue i liked spent her wedding night in a yurt, which is lovely, but, like, why would you care if there were cobwebs present in our venue of choice if you fucking liked the yurt?)
i have to go. school is still totally hard, i'mj just spending weird 90 minute segments trying to figure out where we're getting married in between chapters. ha.
don't get me wrong. it's still a revelation, but. it's a lot less effort to cruise the interwebs for reception sites with a view of lake union than it is to keep reading black feminist theory.
it struck me that to the extent that anyone really wanted further information, it was possibly about the proposal and not the less-consequential details of the wedding itself and exactly which weird bourgie yacht club it's going to happen in. so, just know that the proposal was lovely, stomach viruses notwithstanding, i was wearing four plys of clothing and unwashed hair, and the campfire watched the whole thing go down. i immediately asked him to ask me again, because (and i can't believe this is true, but some weird adrenaline fight-or-flight took over my joy mechanism and it was all just SHOCK SHOCK SHOCK or mostly anyway until the next morning when we had to strike camp and make it to the airport and navigate in my good friend's corolla through NoCal and we thank god stopped here for breakfast (i'm wearing the t-shirt) where, in case you're wondering, they have splits of napa valley sparkling whatever not-champagne and it got magnificently real in this one moment and i cried and he said, that's what i thought you were going to do last night. and it was just a tiny bit delayed, but so lovely.
and after he asked me again, i asked if i could propose to him, and it totally did not come out the way i'd planend for the pulitzer people to hear it. i'm relatively sure it started with, "well, we've been seeing an awful lot of each other," and finished with, "will you be my wife?"
anyway. it's about the yacht club or whatever right now (since when has it ever been so hard to know what i want? i'm just going to say that one of my friends who put the verbal poo-poo on a venue i liked spent her wedding night in a yurt, which is lovely, but, like, why would you care if there were cobwebs present in our venue of choice if you fucking liked the yurt?)
i have to go. school is still totally hard, i'mj just spending weird 90 minute segments trying to figure out where we're getting married in between chapters. ha.
