The cliché

Well friends, it happened. The ol’ ball and chain put a ring on it, and we’re officially official. I don’t intend to post a whole lot about it on Facebook for a variety of reasons, but those of you that have found my blog can get the insider secrets. Well, assuming you want them. Think of them like special features on DVDs. (Am I the only one that still buys DVDs?? Heck, I still buy VHS tapes for 49 cents apiece at Goodwill!) I’m also posting the deets here while they’re still relatively fresh in my mind, because I know sooner or later it’ll get hazy.

Fernando and I are media junkies. Aside from our mutual adoration of all things Internet, we marathon TV series on the weekends and now have seen more TV shows than I even realized were in existence, thanks to Hulu Plus and Netflix. We’ve also seen a great number of cult-favorite movies whilst sitting on his awful couch, which probably is a likely factor in the case of Why Holly’s Clothes are a Bit Tight.

Much of our relationship consists of quoting random movies and inserting hilarious commentary into everyday conversation. I mean, we also frequent a few restaurants and, ahem, got bubble tea at the local tea shop not once, not twice, but thrice this weekend due to a crazy sweet Groupon that meant they were practically free. (I have the boy hooked on bubble tea. Welcome.)

I digress. On Saturday, July 13th, 2013, I had returned from a morning at the Children’s Theatre with the family and had opened the garage to let Fernando into the house for our typical weekend hangout session. As per usual, I made him hug me in the doorway, and punched him after he let go too soon. I have a hug rule based on the statement, “It doesn’t count as a hug unless it last 10 seconds!” (Kabletown head Hank Hooper from the show 30 Rock). It drives him nuts. Muahahahaha.

After being reprimanded for cutting the hug time short, he reached into his pocket and pulled out this small, mysterious silver item. He held it up and said, “Would this make it better?” I stared at it for a few seconds, trying to see in the dark of the garage what the heck it was. It finally registered that it was The Ring. I found it on Etsy years ago (oddly enough while dating someone else) and filed it away for future reference. I had emailed it to him a few months ago with my ring size in a not-so-subtle hint with about 400 winky faces. I knew that sometime within the next year he’d ask me, but I had no idea he’d do it so soon- or in my garage!

Once I realized what it was, I was confused because I wasn’t sure if he was giving it to me as a nice gift or if he was actually asking what I thought he might be asking. I awkwardly was like, “Oh… you… you got it…?” Well, then he blurted out, “Well, yeah. Will you marry me?”

At that point, I punched him. (Yeah, apparently I show love through punches. Who knew?) I called him a turd face a few times for good measure, hugged the crap out of him, squealed a few decibels higher than normal, and finally let him into the house. It took me a few minutes to register what had happened, and in those few minutes, I called him a turd face a few more times and then finally answered, “Wizard,” (an affirmative answer from our favorite movie, Juno). I later asked him why he proposed in the garage of all places. His response? “Well, I couldn’t wait any longer!”

It’s still sinking in, over a week later. It’s exciting and weird and happy and very, very real.


the ring


One response to this post.

  1. Posted by Mandy! on July 24, 2013 at 6:02 pm

    WHOOOO HOOOO!!! Holly I am so stinkin’ happy for you two!! Now that we are back in town expect a phone call!!!!


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