just curious, why an annullment?
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Chief’s Domain
My wife proposed to {i]me*
She said, “Marry me or I’ll tell my father the policeman that we made ugly on the couch in the basement.”
She’s an incurable romantic.
Haven’t proposed yet, but I’ve got an idea on how to do it. Feel free to let me know “Yes, that sounds wonderful” or “God, that sounds miserable/pathetic/horrible”; I’m nervous as hell about how good an idea this is or how well I can pull this off.
In June, Rebecca and I will go to Intercon, a LARPing convention that most of our friends go to as well. Generally, Saturday night after the games are finished, the con hosts a dance party in the function rooms.
Two things of note: Rebecca is a wonderful dancer (and loves to dance); Rebecca just starred as Marion in a local production of The Music Man.
I know the people who DJ the party; this time around, I’m going to beg/bribe/plead with them to play “Lyda Rose” as a special ‘two-year anniversary’ celebration. And in the middle of dancing, after the line, “At the least suggestion / I’ll pop the question”, I’m going to get down on one knee and pull out a ring.
I’m hoping this will be a magical, wonderful experience. With my luck, I’ll throw out my knee and twist my ankle three steps into the dance. Somehow, proposing on bended knee seems more romantic than proposing while lying on the floor in great pain, so I’m hoping for the best.
Anyways, whaddya think? Certainly nothing so amazing or astounding as Brian and Libby, but it’s nice, right? Right?
JMCJ
“Y’know, I would invite y’all to go feltch a dead goat, but that would be abuse of a perfectly good dead goat and an insult to all those who engage in that practice for fun.” -weirddave, set to maximum flame
Sounds cool, John. You will be wearing tights when you dance, right?
We’d been dating for about five years (including college, so it’s not quite as bad as that sounds), and the not-yet-Mrs. Ace had been dropping increasingly large hints and starting “where is this relationship going” conversations. I’m a real stickler for doing things “right” (which is whatever I irrationally think is the way things must be done), so I didn’t want to officially become engaged without having the ring and everything. (She, on the other hand, would have been perfectly happy with a commitment from me.)
So, I manage to save up some money from my low-paying editorial job, make a down payment on a ring, and plan to give it to her on her birthday. But the ring is ready a week early, so I pick it up then. La Contessa and I were going to the New York Renaissance Faire that Saturday (some friends worked there), and I brought the ring with me.
Halfway through the day, we’re sitting and resting on a hay bale in the shade, and I can’t wait any longer. So I pull out the ring and give it to her. I was so nervous (so she tells me; I don’t have any real memory myself) that what I said was “this is for you.” She was deliriously happy, but did have to prod me into actually saying something in the form of a question.
We run back to show the friends the ring, and she starts sneezing violently. Turns out that she’s allergic to hay (and had mostly forgotten, since she’s in its vicinity about once every decade or so), and spent the rest of the day beaming and snuffling.
We got married about a year and a half later (I told her I didn’t even want to plan a date until I had the ring paid off). It will be seven years in May, and we’ve got a 2-year-old son, so I think things worked out pretty well.
I’m your only friend
I’m not your only friend
But I’m a little glowing friend
But really I’m not actually your friend
But I am
These are all really great stories. John, I think that will be really nice. Just remember that even if you do fall on your butt, all she’ll remember is the look on your face when you ask her.
My story: after my then-boyfriend had been dating for about two years (and living together for 1 1/2 years of that), I was getting a little worried. We had had the “where is this going” conversation, with no real resolution. I came home one Tuesday afternoon from a particularly horrible day at work. It was pouring and absolutely freezing out. When I got in the door, I put on my coziest big sweatshirt and sweatpants. He gave me a big hug and asked me if I wanted to go for a walk with him. I thought that was a really good idea…I love storms and I needed to get out of the house. We got all our rain gear on and trekked down to the beach. We stood there, completely soaked, watching the lightning hit the ocean. He got down on his knee and proposed. He had been planning it all along and had been really upset at the weather. When I agreed to go for a walk in it anyway, he took it as a sign.
We went back to the house, put on some dry clothes, went to the jewelry store and picked out a ring. When we got back, we drank champagne and called everyone we knew!
We carried the rain theme into our actual wedding day, too! Hurricane Irene made landfall right after our ceremony (outdoors) and right before our reception (outdoors). We stuck it out under the tent, drank a lot of wine, ate a ton of food, and sang the theme song from Titanic. Our six month "anni"versary was three days ago!
I had grand intentions. I was foiled by a dastardly force.
January 9th, 1998. The big day. My plan was to hike to the top of Stone Mountain around sunset, get down on one knee, and pop the question. She, however, would have none of it. She didn’t want to go to Stone Mountain, thought it was too cold, and thought it was a bad idea to go hiking that day.
What is our hero to do, you may ask. Plan B, thrown together at the last minute.
Our first date included a trip to IHOP. We both love the place and it is “our place” to hang out late at night, eat something and relax.
So, I talk her into going to IHOP, we eat, and on the way out, I asked, she teared up and said yes. It may sound like a bad place, but it meant a lot to her.
Coming soon to a sig line near you!
Relive the mundane highs, the flaming lows, and the pointless posts in between. Announcing the debut of the best of Mullinator.
Because it’s not just a sig, it’s an adventure.
I have a story with a slightly different tone.
I had been living with Suzanne for more than a year. We had discussed marriage in the abstract, and both of us said that it was not the lifestyle we wanted. She was especially emphatic about her position.
In San Francisco, where we lived at the time, having a roommate is almost a requirement to deal with high rents. Our original roommate became involved with drugs and stopped paying rent & utilities, so we wanted to replace him with a friend of ours. However, this friend had a cat, so we needed to find a new place that would accept pets.
I was doing most of the phone calls to set up appointments to look at apartments. We wanted to stay in the Richmond district in SF, where many of the landlords are Chinese immigrants.
The language barrier posed a bit of a problem. You see, I was trying to find a two bedroom apartment for three people. I don’t think the landlords were trying to discriminate against us, they just seemed unclear on the concept. In order to save time, I started saying that me, my wife and our roommate were looking for a two bedroom apartment. That approach seemed to avoid the language/cultural difficulties, and my phone conversations seemed considerably smoother.
Well, naturally, one of the landlords called my home (IIRC to change an appointment), and probably said to Suzanne something about “your husband called me earlier and…”
So I get a phone call at work; Suzanne is noticably agitated and asking me if I’m really telling people that we’re married. Remembering her vehement opposition to the concept, I’m thinking I’m in deep doo-doo, and start apologizing my ass off. She cuts me off, and tells me she wants to talk about it at dinner.
Now, I’m working days and she’s working evenings. Our usual plan was to meet downtown for dinner before I went home and she went to work. So we decide to pop into McDonalds and grab a burger. In the meantime I’m rehearsing all the ways I can apologize, wanting to tell her that I didn’t disrepect her position, I was just trying to avoid a lengthy explanation to these landlords.
We go in, get our greaseburgers, and sit down at the counter. I start in on my apologies and explanations, and she cuts me off after about 10 seconds.
She takes a couple deep breaths, hems and haws, and finally tells me that she does want to get married. Needless to say, I was floored! Well I was certainly happy being with her (at least then) so I replied, “Ok, sounds good to me!”… Obviously not my most eloquent moment.
Things didn’t go well after we got married, but that’s a whole 'nother story.
Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.
Posted by Chief
Basically, fraud. Everything he said/did while we were going out was just pretend. I thought it was cool I’d met someone that I had so much in common with, well, he was pretending to like the same stuff I did. I didn’t start to find out about it until we were already married and living together. He lied about everything except where he lived and where he worked, and the stuff he lied about was weird stuff that wouldn’t have mattered anyway, had he told the truth: Age, Birthplace, Parents, Children. He didn’t say he was a down-on-his-luck Count of some foriegn country, like you see on Oprah or something, he said he was 41 when he was really 44, insisted he only had two kids when he really had three, etc. That really made me sick, he vehemently denied his own son, yet claimed his medical expenses on tax forms for a tax break. He told me his parents were British, that he came to America when he was 20, he talked with a British accent and used the vernacular, and it was all BS. He’s from Palmdale, California! Even when I’d find out these things and confront him with the proof, he’d still try to make up more lies to cover it up. He also signed a bunch of stuff for which I am now half responsible, at least for now. Ugh. He had a few brain chemicals missing, obviously, and severe socialphobia. The stress from being nice all day at work around people would put him in a rage by the time he got home. I never saw that while I was dating him, because I didn’t live with him. He could cover it up well enough while we were dating, but he couldn’t hide it once I lived with him every day.
I know it’ll be easy to jump on this and say I must be a moron, but at the same time I can’t tell the whole story here. Suffice to say that he’s been working at the same place for 10 years, and they all still think he’s from England.
Yes, next time I will do a full and complete background check. Sucks, but that’s life. Live and learn! 
I wonder if I’ll ever be able to have a boyfriend again without being completely paranoid. Right now the whole dating scene just seems like, ugh, why bother! I guess I should take heart by reading the love stories above.
A girl
The soon-to-be Mr. Beef and I got engaged last September. We were on a boat ride off Navy Pier in Chicago, it was sunset, and the boat captain all of a sudden shone a spotlight on us. He hopped into the aisle, got down on one knee, and said
“So, whaddaya say, Beef?”
I said yes. Our wedding day is 5.5 weeks away!
“Well, I guess this means the fun’s over.” -Gus Mc Crae
“It may be over, but it sure wasn’t fun.” - Woodrow Call
Mine is about as unromantic as you can get! My then-boyfriend and I had been dating for 3 1/2 years on January 22, 1997 I went to the Dr. for my yearly PAP and found out that I was pregnant. I told my boyfriend that night and we told my parents 3 days later. He told my parents that we would be married before the baby was born. We got married on 02/02/97. Everything went downhill from there. I didn’t want to marry him, I was going to break up w/him and then I found out I was pregnant. I had just quit my job and was going back to school so I had no money, no insurance, nothing. I kind of feel like I had to get married. BIG mistake!
Needless to say, we are no longer together. We divorced last June.
That John Denver’s full of shit man!
A little background information:
I’ve known the future Mrs. Nen for about nine years. We have best friends since we met. When we took the relationship to a more committed level we were about 1300 miles apart; for the last three and a half years we’ve been separated by a minimum of two hundred miles. Very soon after this step we began toying with the idea of marriage. I had always been steadfastly against the prospect, but somehow I thought an exception could be made. Pertaining to the distance, since gifts often take some time to reach the recipient, we frequently play a little game of giving hints to both placate and heighten the anticipation and excitement.
I decided to take the engagement formally, and since her father is deceased, I asked her mother for permission to marry her.
The deed itself:
With the encroaching move to graduate school in North Carolina, she felt a greater need to solidify the relationship with an engagement. She happened to be nearby visiting her mother and I before going off to graduate school. I had just returned from my grandfather’s funeral and mentioned that I had brought her a little present. She instantly requested a hint. We corresponded via email for most of the game. I gave her the atomic weight of rhodium (the finished used on platinum jewelry). The ring was being sent via certified and insured mail so the jeweler could make the ring to my specifications. The postal service temporarily lost the ring. More clues ensued for the next week while the postal service recovered the missing parcel. Being as intelligent as she is, she nearly discovered the answer so I reminded her that a poor student could not afford an engagement ring.
When the parcel made it to a nearby city, I sent her an email in a covert operations motif in which I requested her presence at the tree. The tree was a place with great boughs for sitting. In our youth we spent many hours there assisting each other with personal problems, sharing our thoughts and emotions in general, and engaging in philosophical debates. I drove like a madman to get the ring and then to the tree. A few hundred yards before I reached my destination, I came up behind the new Ferrari 355 Spyder. I had to quickly decide whether to pursue the purr of a V12 or that of a gorgeous woman. I made the wrong decision and went to the tree.
She arrived shortly thereafter and I proceeded to tell her my reason for requesting her presence. I lied through my teeth as we walked to the tree and told her that I felt that our relationship could no longer endure the strain of the imposed distance. Naturally, she was crushed, but realized why I had selected the site. We made it to the tree, I asked her to sit, and told her that I had written a poem to deal with my emotions. She knew something was up when I began to recite the sonnet from memory.
The sonnet:
Azure firmament graces the heavens,
It is begotten by divine flame—
That solace I know beyond all havens:
The blissful sensation without a name.
As the mind reels in vast comprehension,
Ah, Infinity understood with ease,
Of prime importance is one dimension—
Oh, Eternity, share it with me, please.
Ring of platinum formed in a circle,
Without your presence, there is but a hole.
A diamond—symbol of this miracle,
Officially proclaim: “We share One Soul!”
Your mother’s blessing is given, said she,
Oh, my Beloved, will you marry me?
The conclusion:
At the end of the eighth line she said yes. At the beginning of the ninth, when I produced the ring from my pocket, her jaw dropped, her eyeballs popped from her head, she threw her arms around me and whimpered yes through the tears. I pushed her back and finished, whereupon I received the final yes. The rest of the day she was the clumsiest individual I have ever seen because she couldn’t take her eyes off her hand.
So, I finished the sonnet and now I’m finished.
My dad proposed to my mom in a McDonalds. They’ll have their 28th anniversary this year, so maybe fast food restaruants bring luck.
We’d dated about four years before he proposed. It wasn’t as long as it seems was for two reasons: his parents had a terrible accident and,well, I wasn’t ready.
It was the first xmas after his parents accident. ( Accident was in May of 91. Parents came home from hospital in the fall of 91.) I had an idea that he was going to pop the question. He kept on asking me goodhumoredly, " Do you love me." " Just how much to do you love me." and then trying to drag me into jewerly stores. ( If I had, I would have been able to pick out my ring, and then I would have had a huge problem with spending that kind of money on me. All in all, it worked out, he truly knows me better than I do and picked a timeless classic solitaire.)
The number one day to propose is Christmas Day, according to some vague stat from a magazine article filed in my head. I hate doing things just like the other folks.I wanted something original and superlative. I also hate Christmas as my father died on it and the complusive consumerism that is attached to this day, but I digress. I mumbled irate in one of my * I hate this time of year * funks ( It was nearing December of 1991, IIRC.) that if he proposed to me on Christmas that I would never talk to him again.
He proposed Christmas Eve. The weasel.
Within a half hour he called all his buddies and asked all of them to be in the wedding. I had no idea he was doing this because my head was spinning with *Oh my God, what have I done/This Ring Is Gorgeous/I love him/I guess all our vacations will be in Germany/I’m too young to get married/ There goes the rock star career/OhGod, there goes the waistline/His parents looove me and I don’t know why * and I was chatting with his family. After he told me he asked all these guys to be in the wedding, I just about died. I said, " I don’t have that many girlfriends or girl cousins. "
The next words out of my lips began my path into wifery and nagging, " Just call them back and tell them everything is on hold."
( His buddies all laughed because it was so typical of Mr. Ujest. He is the ultra social one of the two of us.)
I forgive him for the lackluster proposal because he has made my life so complete and so many superlatives that I cannot imagine how I got so lucky. OTOH, I question his sanity on a regular basis for marrying me.I truly got the better end of the deal.)
We were engaged a year and a half so we could get married on what would have been my parents 45th wedding anniversary, May 1, 1993. I wore cowboy boots. And so did my groom.
Two kids, one dog,and a lawn full of crabgrass later it seems a waistline ago.
My favorite proposal that I’ve heard is by my Cousin Dave to his wife Kathy.
He proposed on April 1st. With no ring. You can figure out the conversation from there.
If I had to do it all again, I think I would have registered for really good bed sheets.
You know, I must be the least romantic person here, because I much prefer the unusual stories like Mullinator’s or SingleDad’s.
The whole setting up a romantic evening, getting down on one knee in public ready to present the ring strikes me as cliched, and to be honest makes me gag.
Not to impugn any of you, if that’s what you like, but if any guy did that to me I’d be really pissed off.
Go figure.
This post is made of 100% recycled electrons
Getting hitched in the Caymans a week from Saturday. Been with my partner for 6.5 years, and had just about decided that it would be fun to grow old together “living in sin.” His family history doesn’t give marriage a good name.
Last Sept, I was all pissed because my new place of employment requires a notarized statement of at least common-law marriage to cover health bennies. I wasn’t about to get married for such a practical reason, after all. But I guess that got M. thinking.
One night he just put his hands together on the table and said, “Are we going to get married or what?”
It took me a good 15 minutes to actually determine that he meant it. And it’s probably the most low-key, low stress wedding I’ve ever been a part of. We’re doing the ceremony knee deep in the water out in this bay, then spending the rest of the week hanging out with family and scuba diving.
Slythe and I where both sitting on the couch and I looked at him and said “lets get married”. He said “OK” but I have to get divorced first. I said “Ok”, 2 months later we where wed. On our 10th anniversary he gave me a 1 carat diamond ring. He said it was to make up for not having an engagement ring. Been married for over 12 years.
I have abandoned my search for truth, and am now looking for a good fantasy.
I agree completely with you. Once, prior to our engagement, we were at a function that hubby was the president of. ( It’s his german club and a pretty lame one at that, so it’s nothing big like “Inventors of Chia Pets” or some such hoity toity thing.)
While he was giving a speech, in german, I sat there with one of his friends girlfriend. Neither of us spoke german so to keep ourselves from slipping into coma’s, we chatted quietly. She said to me suddenly,
“Wouldn’t it be romantic if he proposed to you in his speech?”
I paled at the thought and said, “I’ll kill him,then say no.”
I think she must have relayed this information to him and that is why we had such a low key popping the question.
That what does not kill me, postpones the inevitable.