"OMG I'm sweating!"-- the engagement

Ok, so I knew we were going to get engaged. And that it would probably be soon, since I had told G. that I wanted to get engaged, plan and have the wedding within 2009.

One day, I was reading Lucky magazine, and saw this ring that I totally loved, but of course couldn't afford.
So I thought, oh, hey, I am probably getting engaged soon. Maybe I could have it as an engagement ring! I went back and forth a little in my head, and later that afternoon sent G. an email with a link to the ring. I was totally panicked about it, but did it anyway.

Well, turns out people do do that. My friend E. (who's doing the reading) told me she gave her husband "major specs" regarding her ring of choice before they got engaged. That made me feel a lot better.

A week later, G. and I went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. We were looking at an exhibit about love and sex in the Renaissance (which, by the way, was totally dirty). G. asked me whether I wanted that particular ring, or something like it. I told him if he wanted to choose a different ring, he could choose one himself, but I wanted him to know he could think-outside-the-solitaire-box, so to speak. Or, he could just buy that one. So! There it was!

The week before Valentine's day, he was like, "Let's go to the Met on the 15th." We have dates at the Met a lot. However, he never suggests anything a week in advance, especially not stuff that requires no advance planning. So all of a sudden I had a little buzz in my ear. I suspected he was going to propose.

I knew he wouldn't do it on Valentine's day, because he is just not a proposing on Valentine's day kind of guy. However, on the 14th, he gave me a scrapbook to fill with mementos of stuff we would do together over the next year.

Huh.

The day after Valentine's, I was all aflutter. I kind of thought this was it. I put on a snappy green sweater and lipgloss.

We went to the museum, and it was a madhouse. It was like a concert had just let out, there were masses of people everywhere. It was kind of making us cranky, and we couldn't get focused on anything we wanted to look at.

We ended up in the Art of Cyprus, which I had never looked at before in all my times at the Met. Now I know why: it's boring! I wanted to move on, so I walked out of the exhibit and G. followed.* We stopped on the balcony that overlooks the main entrance, and I took this picture of the flowers, which were beautiful that day.


Then we went into Chinese Art of the 5th century, which is my favorite room at the Met. There is a huge, ginormous buddha and an awesome mural. It was oddly empty in the room. We were chatting, and I was looking at the buddha, and I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around, and he was holding the Lucky ring, and whispered in my ear, "Will you marry me?"

All I remember of the next few moments are that I started grabbing at the ring, was reminded that I hadn't replied, replied yes, and then starting sweating like you wouldn't believe. I ripped off my coat and scarf and fanned myself. Then we kissed, were excited, you know.

We tried to walk around some more, but it was futile. I was in a total daze. We went outside to Central Park and bought a blue Gatorade and took a picture.

Then we got on the phone. The best part was that my parents were at a funeral that day, which started at 3:00, just the time when we got engaged. I couldn't get them on the phone till 8:00 p.m.! G. had talked to his whole family and all his friends before I even got my folks on the phone. It didn't seem right to talk to a bunch of people before my parents, so they only person I called was A.T., my MOH.

Then we wandered through the park, and through midtown. We went to the Parker Meridien hotel and had an outrageously expensive glass of wine (I saved the coaster for our scrapbook). We went home, walked the dog, and had dinner at our favorite restaurant. Aces!

*Turns out he though of proposing in the Art of Cyprus, but I kept walking away. I am glad he didn't!