So per usual, am rather busy. In addition to the usual stuff, though, I moving into some uncharted territory as well.
Yo, I'm engaged.
There was no big proposal, merely a discussion* initiated by him about desired particulars of one's dream wedding. And if I was being graded, I would have totally failed Girly Girl 101 as the only wedding-type thing I ever contemplated growing up was that I wanted to wear a tutu (complete with pointe shoes) as my wedding dress. Obviously this was from the Bunhead Years, and just seems rather idiotic now.
So discussion was made, and I knew it was really official when the next day he told me The Lads wished us well.
Anyone who's not familiar with this blog might wonder at that curious statement. The SO has proposed a few times before, both the first time we dated as well as this incarnation of our relationship. If we count the times he's said Voglio sposarti mid-coitus, I think we might actually approach the double digits, but I'm not quite sure. You try to keep count when your eyes are crossing from orgasm. Not that easy, eh?
Anywho, previous proposals had the lasting power of a soap bubble for various reasons, mainly our combined immaturity. And none had ever featured The Lads being informed, nor anyone come to think about it.
No ring**, no date, no place, no fucking idea of anything really. And if I think about it enough, the idea of planning a wedding gives me capital H Hives, what with coordinating our various family members spread out across the globe. Plus my dad's never met him, so at some point the poor bastard will have to run our Family Gauntlet, wherein the oh so Catholic American-Italian males of the family line up to flog the target with merciless questions such as "What are your intentions towards my daughter/niece/cousin/this marriage" etc.
I've already warned the SO that it'll be like Meet the Parents, but all the interrogation stuff won't involve the convenient plot point of a former CIA spy. And the sub-title would be Hell has never looked so inviting.
Actually trying to wrap my head around the idea of planning a wedding, I've surfed a few web sites and immediately wanted to hurl from the overdose of frilly frou frou crap. The only thing I have decided is that my bridesmaids & maid of honor will be wearing this fabulous creation at the ceremony.
At which point the ceremony will become my funeral, my life tragically ended by a swath of shiny spandex wrapped around my throat.
* He's been rather persistent with this theme for a few months now.
** We're actually sweating the post wedding stuff, like buying a house. Rather difficult when one is rather broke, let alone two broke people. So yeah, a ring ain't even on my list of priorities.
