Happy beginnings. Strange movies. Date Night.

He writes in this font, she writes in this font.

Wonderful things happen when you embrace change, however minimal, and let necessity guide the course of a day. Or in this case a date.

Our plan last Saturday, the one that wasn’t rainy, was to enjoy happy hour at Bartini to initiate Date Night. Well, alas, Bartini was packed to the brim with people sharing our idea for enjoying the weather and weekend day at sunset. Walking aimlessly down 23rd Avenue thinking of where to go instead, a new dilemma met us on the path.

“My bra is falling… it’s literally at my belly button… also my jacket is bulky over my blazer and dress, but i’m cold.” Haha! Yeah, that sounds about right. I was, to say the least, incredibly uncomfortable. They say beauty is pain, but will someone start making things that, I don’t know, fits an actual woman’s body?  

On top of this, though under here, we were hungry — first world starving.

Stopping on our path to consider this problem, we turned our eyes left to find a solution waiting like the cliche fate of 90’s teen movies. Less abstractly, there were two businesses that could satisfy all these little issues: Uptown Billiards Club and Crossroad Trading Company.

“Okay darling, here is the strategy:

  1. Let’s duck into this pool bar so you can take off that vexing bra;

  2. Order something delicious to quiet the hangry;

  3. Drink something more delicious for revival;

  4. and then step into Crossroad so you can ditch the blazer for something more suitable.

Ready, break!”

Two tequila concoctions, some baked brie, and a sweater purchase later everything was just fine. I may have also found a steal of deal and picked up some Oliberte shoes.

Nothing special, but it was special nonetheless. As we walked back down towards 23rd Avenue, then a right on Hoyt, we laughed at how a falling bra turned to finding a perfect, quiet place for brie and satisfying drinks, then some bargain deals. More though, we were smiling because the night became more memorable merely because it did not go to plan. I guess the best things inevitably happen that way, for us anyhow.  

The movie was not worth reviewing by the way; strange. (Anomalisa) I still don’t know what to think of that film… it just, wasn’t for us.





New Holiday Traditions

This post written by Guy. 

The date of our engagement, which depended on the arrival of the ring, was glorious coincidence.

Sidenote #1: It was not “a glorious coincidence.” It was not one mere example of a greater phenomenon, not a casual run-in with destiny that you could confuse with other such experiences. No, it was one-of-a-kind, never forget it, perfect connection with fate.

Sidenote #2: Google Search defines Coincidence as “a remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances without apparent causal connection.” Exchange a for the and that definition is right on the money.

Here are the events that quite remarkably concurred on the day that I engaged her.

  1. The ring arrived (we covered that already).

  2. Our special date night, which was planned independent of the first event.

Regarding the special date night. Several weeks ago my most dearest Mother purchased tickets for us to see The Nutcracker. Always impeccably wonderful, Mother wanted us to do something that reminded me of home and put us in the holiday spirit. It reminded me of home because I have been going to see The Nutcracker for several years, often alone, because I simply love the story. Thank you Mother, Merry Christmas.

Now that we had something to do, I wanted to make it into an event. Yes, I italicized the last two words of that sentence to connote something more grand and elaborate than simply going to see a ballet.  I kept thinking to myself, “This is our first Christmas together and I want to make it special, I want to make it memorable.”  The best way to accomplish that goal, I thought, was to plan a night out that would give her some of her absolute favorite things: fine food, elegant clothes, live performance, and plenty of photo opportunities. The last one really goes without saying.

The elegant clothing was an easy one, I knew Megan would suggest that we dress up to the occasion of attending a ballet from the onset. The only remaining questions were where to stay and where to eat. As fate would have it, one building housed the answers to both questions.

Looking at hotels near Keller Auditorium, my eyes quickly caught notice of Hotel Modera. This is because it is only 526 feet separate it from Keller, the decor is a collaboration between classic elegance and modern coolness, and it has a restaurant (Nel Centro) that is everything I wanted for the occasion. Perfection.

A few clicks later I had a special night planned, purchased, and ready to present to Megan.

If you read our last post, you know that I proposed the morning of this special date night. Imagine our excitement: her shocking, dumbfounded disbelief when I knelt down and asked; my unspeakable, indescribable awe when she answered; and our crying, kissing hysteria that ensued afterward and all in a moment.  

Now we were off on this special date night. I’ll repeat the last portion of this post’s first sentence — it was glorious coincidence. It was truly remarkable how events concurred, aligned, came together to create a day that we will never forget.

And the night was perfect. Megan looked like a Hollywood icon from yesteryear in her beautiful dress and with her hair up like Audrey Hepburn: pure grace and refinement. The food, which we did not get to photograph because the camera died, was delicious and tasted like elegance.* Lastly, but most splendidly, the show was better than I have ever seen. Perhaps the ballerinas, from the little adorable mice to the Sugar Plum Fairy, were simply better performers. That’s certainly possible considering the incredible feats of delicate control the little Fairy displayed. More likely though, the night was perfect because I got to experience everything while holding the hand of my future wife and home.

It was magic to look over and see her smiling, wondrous face enjoying the show. It was heaven to look down in her lap to see her hands holding mine tightly and the ring shining brightly up at us both.

She said "yes"

This post written by Guy.

We got engaged! Yes, I engaged her! (coining that term)

Last Friday morning, about 10am, I felt my pocket vibrate twice. Buzz. Buzz. The vibrations were long and spaced about fifteen seconds apart. This is relevant only because it let me know that I received two emails, not texts. Sitting in a meeting, I was unable to look at my phone — but the anticipation of those emails set my mind racing.

For several weeks now I have been on pins and needles, waiting. Specifically, I had been waiting for a shipping confirmation email from Miss Heidi Gibson. If you don’t know, Heidi Gibson makes some of the most elegant and timeless engagement rings you will ever see. So, even more specifically, I was waiting on notification that my ring was ready and shipped so that I could officially ask Megan to be my wife and companion for the rest of our lives.

Entirely incapable of explaining why, I just knew those two punctuated vibrations in my pocket were from Heidi. Needless to say, my heart was beating excitedly and I lost what was said towards the end of that meeting.

 “I have good news! Your ring has been shipped! Woo!”

That’s how Heidi began her email. I read it over and over again, at least twenty times, staring at my phone screen with a feeling flowing in me somewhere at the intersection of utter shock, absolute joy, and child-like wonder. There are no words. It was just bliss to read those words.

Now let’s jump forward to Saturday morning. I had been giving my absolute best effort to keep this monumental secret from Megan. For nearly 24 hours now I had been suppressing the tugging urge to tell her everything and propose before the ring even arrived.

Fun Fact: I am incapable of keeping secrets from Megan. For the past three weeks, I keep giving her Christmas presents early because I am too excited to wait. It got expensive.

We were getting ready for a staycation weekend in Downtown Portland (but I’ll get to that adventure in the next post.) My phone vibrated again, this time on the bathroom counter as we both were stepping out of the shower. Buzz-buzz. The vibrations this time were close together and much shorter, like stutter steps. It was a text message.

 “It’s here!!”

Megan’s sister had been on lookout duty for me to make sure Megan didn’t see the package arrive. I read the text, my heart skipped three beats, and I hurriedly threw on joggers and ran down stairs. Opening the Fedex package in the garage with Priscilla, my hands were shaking. The ring was perfection, it glowed with the supernatural beauty an item endowed with eternal power. Instantly I knew, this is my Wife’s ring — Her ring.

 “When are you going to propose? Tonight?” ~ Priscilla.

Now. Not tomorrow, not tonight, not later today. Now. It was the only response that made sense. I knew the day that I met Megan that I loved her and wanted to marry her. In my mind, I had been waiting six months to ask the question already. I simply could not accept waiting any longer.

Quickly, huddling for a team meeting, Priscilla, Sentilla (Megan’s sisters), and I devised a plan for the proposal so that we could capture it all on camera — of course. Meanwhile, Megan was clueless upstairs getting ready. This was our plan: I would suggest to Sentilla and Priscilla that one of them take a few pictures of us before we head out. During the impromptu and entirely unplanned photo session, I would “pop the question.”

The next hour of waiting for Megan to get ready was a blur. I vaguely remember watching Elf, actively trying to not rush Megan, and brushing my teeth. My memory of everything else is clouded by the delightful surge of excited anxiety that overwhelmed my consciousness. I felt like a kid asking a girl to a dance for the first time. Picture a ten year old boy, bow tie, holding a single flower and rose-red from blushing: that was me.

Meanwhile she was clueless.

That was my day leading up to the moment my life changed forever. I wish I could tell you how I proposed, but that memory is a feeling that no words could capture. Like a symphony of impulses, kisses, and sentiment, explaining how I asked Megan to marry me would be as silly and fruitless as discussing why music moves us. It just does.

Fortunately, Sentilla caught the whole thing on camera and I am forever grateful for that.

We are engaged. I engaged her.