How this fish got her bicycle

How it transpired… the edited version. (Some parts I want to just save for myself… I’m selfish that way.)

Saturday night I was stir crazy. After a week of torrential rain, of reading Renaissance dramas, and work stuff I wanted to go out for dinner. So Schuyler and I hit Yamato (my favorite) for endamame, a few Kirin Ichibans, and sushi. We had all my favorites- Tokyo Roll, Rainbow Roll, Volcano, and something new with smoked salmon that I actually liked. Of course, we all know what happens to me when I eat sushi and drink beer. I CRASH. Big time. We got home a little after nine and I was passed out in a stupor by 10:30. Apparently, Schuyler had been trying to call my dad at the house and on his cell phone all week and was unable to get in touch with him. Finally after I passed out he text messaged my sister (who happened to be visiting my parents for the weekend) asking her to rally the troops and pick up the goddamned telephone already GEESH. At that point Schuyler not only asked my father, but also my mother and sister permission to ask me to marry him. I can only imagine the total gauntlet he must have been running while I was happily in my sushi coma just a room away. (If you haven’t met my father you could hardly understand. He’s a tall, grizzly well driller who was born without the ability to sensor his thoughts before they come out of his mouth. It’s part of his charm. It’s also part of his ability to ‘shock and awe’ a captive audience.)

Sunday morning Schuyler got out of bed while I was still sleeping off the remnants of my wasabi and soy binge and put a sign on the bedroom door that read, “STAY IN bed. Love, Schuyler.” This was totally unnecessary as I had no plans to leave the bed for at least another two hours. It was 7 a.m. on a Sunday. He came in wearing his pajamas to bring me a cup of coffee, and then five minutes later walked in wearing his best clothes (slacks, button down, the whole nine yards) and a tray filled with all my favorites. Pancakes, an omelet with ham and onions and green pepper, yogurt with granola, grapefruit, English muffin with raspberry preserves, honey, and thick slices of crispy bacon. Oh, and yellow plumeria blooms. If you know me very well my first thought was “YAY PANCAKES!”and my second thought was, “…. What the?” After serving me the food he got down on one knee and proposed. What he said is private, but he presented me with the most beautiful cushion cut diamond set in a cathedral ring. I was sitting there in one of my old college t-shirts, glasses, and I hadn’t even brushed my teeth. At that moment I knew he meant business and wasn’t just buying the cow for her amazing hygiene. I said yes, and then proceeded to share my breakfast with him- demanding that he get in bed while wearing his nice clothes. Because that’s what married people do- they share. Although I did not share my pancakes. I still have my limits.

It was a perfect morning and a perfect proposal. I couldn’t be happier.

We’ll most likely get married in St. Augustine sometime in 2010. It will be very small. And maybe we’ll serve pancakes…