It's funny, I'm not even that big of a Friends fan, but you have to have been living under a rock during the 90's to have escaped that show.
Anyway, Groomy's knot moniker would serve to be rather omniscient, as I later learned. As you may recall, we had already set a wedding date prior to getting "officially" engaged. At this point, I could go on a tangent about what it means to be engaged (is it merely an intent to marry? Does the ring matter?), but let's focus here, people. We weren't engaged, per se.
We had shopped for rings, eyeballed stones, obsessed over settings, purchased wedding magazines, priced venues, and pondered photographers, but my left hand was empty. Needless to say, I was antsy. I knew it was coming, but I wanted it nooooooooooow. Yes, I'm a whiner. I know you're thinking it's a wonder I got anyone to marry me.
However, that Friday I wasn't whining. Secure in the knowledge that we'd be trotting down the aisle approximately one year and one week from then, I grabbed one of those unholy 300-page dress extravaganza magazines, and skipped out (ok, drove) to our traditional Friday chain Mexican meal with two of my best girlfriends.
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While Groomy worked late (not an unusual occurrence), we mocked the gaudy dresses and the models' terrible posture, all the while gorging ourselves on three courses of inauthentic Central American deliciousness. I should mention here that we told very few people about our wedding plans B.R. (Before Ring). The two girlfriends I was with that night (McMaidersons J and R) were totally stoked, but the "oh, honey no" reactions I got from a few other friends were pretty funny. I guess they thought Groomy wouldn't pony up the jewels and I'd be planning a wedding doomed to never happen. But, we're in the clear on that one!
When it was time to part ways, I hopped into my truck, feeling kind of like the button on my jeans was going to pop off and take out the windshield. I was kind of hoping Groomy wouldn't be home when I got there, because I didn't feel so good. Unfortunately, on my drive home, Groomy called me from there and asked where I was relative to the apartment. I told him, and we continued chatting about wedding stuff. He proceeded to ask for my location two move times in my 20 minute drive. Okay, Stalker...but Groomy just reassured me that he missed me. And I bought it, 'cause he's a sweetie like that.
On my way to the apartment from the car, it occurred to me that he might be planning a proposal, but I dismissed that thought immediately as I remembered that our apartment was a mess, and he would've had to clean. Ha! I don't know why I equated proposal with clean apartment.
When I opened the door, I found the apartment not only clean, but filled with candles and rose petals, with Groomy on one knee, holding a ring box.
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No wonder he wanted to know where I was - the floor is hard and it's really uncomfortable. This is why, after letting out a little yelp and backing out of the apartment momentarily, the first thing I said was "Get up off the floor!" Ever the gentlemen, he refused, and asked me to marry him. Of course I said yes, and then tried to hug and kiss him, like newly engaged couples do. But he kept shoving the darn ring box between us. Oh, yeah, I guess I'm supposed to put that on!
And that's how we got here, my little Chanandler and I.*
*While writing this post, I found out that the episode with the proposal is actually called "The One With The Proposal", so be sure to knock off some points for originality there.
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