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Sniff*

By kellyfair

So I went to a dinner party at my oldest and dearest friend's house this weekend. Her boyfriend came out with a long stemmed rose and a ring and got one one knee and proposed. He even waited until after dinner so nobody cried in their raspberry tarts. Sniff! What a great guy. His teenage kids came out with him carrying roses too, which I thought was the act of a good father. It was totally cool.

It isn't just that she's getting married, though. It's that I've known her for 20 years and haven't approved of a single one of the bumbling idiots she's dated in all this time until him. Now granted, this guy actually mentioned burps and farts in his proposal, but I have to hand it to him, he pulled it off and still had almost every girl there sniffing. He also beats out all of her ex boyfriends, for starters, because he's employed and self supporting. That's a good thing in a mate, says the broke ass law student whose girlfriend has to buy the groceries. But I am cute. I don't think I could pull off talking about burps and farts in a proposal though, so my hat's off to Phil.

Now one of the things that is interesting is that all the girls there were sniffing except my girlfriend. "Sigh, I'm not a girl" she said when we talked about it later. It's funny because everyone thinks I'm 'the guy', I guess because I like to work on cars and am almost never seen in a skirt. Some lesbians are that simple. Neither of us are, though. She wears skirts and won't cry at a wedding proposal. I get lost and dreamy in the Sears tools department and am totally excited about shopping for a cool maid of honor dress, since my friend said I can wear what I want and I am going to look absolutely fabulous in something emerald green and not TOO slinky. I change clothes four times before I go out and wear lacy underwear but still show up in hiking shoes and a t shirt. My girlfriend has long hair and pretty eyes but bless her heart, she's got the decorating sense of a 14 year old boy. Umm, the list goes on.

It works, though. The question is, if we are going to have a committment ceremony - (since we're not allowed to get married, a legal contract any drunk 'ho and coke dealer can make at a moment's notice in Las Vegas then dissolve when the drugs run out), who will propose? And would she know to show up with a long-handled ratchet and a ring with inset stones so I won't knock them off in an exhaust manifold? Would I be pissed if she says "yeah, sure" and doesn't cry? (You're damn right I would!) Would I be able to find a fabulous dress and make her wear one too, when I'm sure she doesn't really want to? Could we get Phil to be ordained online at the Holy Drive through Jesus Barn of Apostolic Lambs and do the ceremony and work in 'burp' and 'fart'? So many questions, so much time since we'd be doing it for the hell of it anyway (fuck you, Republicans!) but at least one thing I do know, my pal found a good one, and I couldn't be happier. Three cheers for love, folks, and for things that make your chick friends cry.

Full post as published by caligulawyer on September 17, 2007 (boomark / email).