Recording Things for Posterity


It has occurred to me that I spent much more time on my gallbladder woes than on my engagement in my last post. This is not because I enjoyed gallstones and the subsequent cholecystectomy more than I like being engaged, but rather that it happened in a much more dramatic fashion. I KNEW Stephen would propose; I was not privvy to the information that my gallbladder would suddenly elect to attempt eruption. Besides, the engagement gave me no cause for new lounge pants and anyone who knows me knows I love a good pair of lounge pants.

Because of that, I’m going to tell you all the story of our engagement. Also, I’m recording it for posterity and so that I can be a lazy informant when my children ask someday.

It was July 16th. I had started the morning by going to court. I thought it would be traffic court; it was actually “Decide between spending $600 or going to jail court.” So I picked $600, but I had to sit handcuffed in a tiny room while my $600 came through. I don’t recommend it. The moral of the story is, “Show up to your original court date, especially in Oklahoma City, because otherwise you’ll spend a small fortune and have to wear handcuffs.” Then, I went to work, did some office work, had lunch with the attorneys, and then headed back to Arkansas. I find it important to mention here that after court, I picked a fight with Stephen about whether or not he would ever freaking propose. That’s right, we’d been dating about 5 months at this point. Please don’t judge me. When you’re an old, single lady, like I was, you start to do things that look crazy to others. Anyway, I proceeded to drive to Little Rock where I was going to meet some friends of Stephen’s that I didn’t already know and accompany him to a wedding (outdoors! in July! in Arkansas!) the following evening. I got to my parents’, changed clothes, went to the Flying Saucer downtown and proceeded to be slightly cold to Stephen and warm to everyone else, except for the guy who shook my hand in such a way as to illicit a visibly disgusted reaction. Anyway, we drank some beer, ate some soft pretzels and then the party sort of broke up. A lot of people were going to the piano bar. I don’t like the piano bar. So, Stephen and I decided to go back to his hotel room. (Get your mind out of the gutter. We aren’t doing that till we’re married. Punks.) Anyway, we walked back to the Peabody, rode the elevator, walked to his room, and about 5 minutes later I was engaged. No, I don’t really remember what he said, except that I answered the question before he asked it, and he laughed at me. And then we updated facebook and texted people because this is 2010.


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