Engaged

So.

I’m engaged!

I’m getting married!

Can you believe it? It happened in September and I sort of still can’t.

Niall and I had gone on a couple of fancyish vacation-type trips, but he picked a regular old go-to-LA-and-watch-a-USC-football-game weekend to propose. It was perfect.

It was also a complete surprise.
I wondered why he was acting so weird and kind of hurrying me along in the bookstore when he KNEW I wanted to try on a tee shirt. I didn't clue in when he asked me what my favorite spot on campus was (I answered “Right here in the center, where everything is going on!” So then he asked me where my favorite place on campus was that I hadn’t shown him before-- I thought he was interested in learning my favorite haunts, but apparently he was trying to subtly get me to lead him to a less crowded area. (It worked.)). We wandered over to the alumni house and apparently while I reveled in the thought of standing in the very room where the first USC students lived and learned, Niall was gathering the courage to ask me a Very Important Question.
We walked outside to admire the statue of Joseph Widney and his dapper pocket watch, and Niall turned to me and told me that he loves me and he wants to spend his life with me. "Will you marry me?" He asked.
And then I gaped at him and said "Really?" for about two solid minutes before I came to my senses and said YES.
We’re getting married in June, which, I have learned, is not six months away.

 

full of beans

Age zero to 29- I hate coffee. Coffee is the worst. It is gross and yucky. It SMELLS delicious which is a BOLD FACED LIE because it tastes like sadness and damp washrags. If I need to drink something caffeinated I will have a Coke or a Pepsi or tea with lots of milk and sugar or I’ll just have snacks instead.

Everyone who likes coffee has already tried to convince me that coffee is great or that I just haven’t tried this PARTICULAR drink or that I’ll grow into it and no. NO I SAY! Coffee is Satan’s preparation H and it can go right to hell.

Age 29- my sister buys me an “Ice Cap” from the little drive through coffee place in her tiny godforsaken Oregon town. It is some sort of ice creamy milkshakey caramelly orgasm in a cup that is now the drink yardstick against which all future tasty beverages shall be measured. The next time I visit my sister she buys me the horrendous CEARLY ALL WRONG abomination “equivalent” from Starbucks which I take one sip of and say YLECH. Ice Caps! I don’t like coffee, I like ICE CAPS.

Age 30- I’m stranded in Oregon after driving up with my sister and her kids. There was a plane crash at SFO and now nobody can fly into or out of SFO and every tiny airport on the Oregon coast has turned into a shit show. Planes are grounded, but I have to get home to go to work. I manage to rent a car at one of the aforementioned tiny airports, so I stop at the little coffee place and buy the BIGGEST ICE CAP I can get my hands on and then hit the road. YES I’ll take that extra shot and whipped cream etc etc all of the sugar please and thank you. Half an hour later I have to pull over because I’m too tired to drive. I reassess the situation and trade in my rental car for a Greyhound ticket and spend the rest of the day pondering how the Ice Cap failed me. (As a bonus, I get off the bus in Oakland to use the bathroom and my bus leaves without me, but that’s neither here nor there.)

Age 31- I cautiously try a caramel mocha frappuccino at the local coffee shop. It’s okay, I guess. I try the regular mocha frap. Gross. I try the regular caramel frap. Gross. I try the caramel mocha frap with extra caramel drizzle on top. It’s okay, I guess. And by that I mean okay enough to have one about 3-5 days per week for a year.

Age 32- Frappuccinos are hard to spell and they’re expensive and I’m kind of tired of them. I’ll try this iced coffee. Ylech. Iced coffee is gross, but maybe if I add some whole milk and a drizzle of caramel it will be tolerable. Yes, I’m sure I wouldn’t like to try a HOT beverage, thankyouverymuch.

When I'm home for Christmas my brother in law brings me the same hot coffee drink as my sister- something marked “CM” on the cup. I go to Starbucks and deduce that it must have been a Caramel Macchiato. I try one. I like it.

Today- I ordered a caramel macchiato and it is delicious. WHO AM I. WHAT IS THIS LIFE. THE SUN IS SHINING THE TANK IS CLEAN.