Monday, Oct. 06, 2008

For real

"Yes, this is for real."

Those are the words Mr. Big said when I was staring down at my engagement diamond.

Before I go on and get all super-high-pitched and you roll your eyes, thinking "This chick is crazy," I'll quote Carrie Bradshaw: "For once, can't you feel what I want you to feel? - Jealous!"

On the back of my Honda Civic are the words "Jus Engaged! Congrats!" with a smiley face. And yes, it reads "Jus" not "Just" because our friends are grammatically challenged.

Last Wednesday, on Oct. 1, I got engaged. I had just come home from watching the Sex & the City movie at my sister's, when Mr. Big broke open a bottle of ice wine and sat me down on our bed. He went on about how he couldn't afford an engagement ring at the moment, then asked me for some more time. I complied, giving a weary smile.

"I got you something small - it's just for fun," he said, handing me a light pink box. It was seven by six inches long and about an inch wide, wrapped with a black ribbon that had the letter "Z" all over it. As he talked, I kept trying to think of what started with the letter Z.

I opened the box, which revealed an empty creme-colored picture frame with gold dots all over. Suddenly, something sparkly caught my eye. Something sparkly and princess-cut...

...And then I went deaf. I couldn't hear anything and all I could look at was Mr. Big. Before I could even say anything, he assured "Yes, this is for real. Will you marry me?"

I realized he was on his knees - and of course - I started to tear up. It was beautiful. It was simple. It was totally us.

The next day we picked out a band to go with the diamond. It was then I also realized that the "Z" ribbon stood for Zales. I'm so dense.

The gemologists gathered around us and brought out tons of bands for us to try. I tried things I normally wouldn't have just to see if my mind changed. Nope.

In the end I chose a simple white gold band, lined with fourteen tiny diamonds to give it some glitter. No side baguettes, no crazy design - just simple.

My equally girlie gal pal came over to see the ring, bearing the gift of a 1-liter Mountain Dew with a purple bow on top, and a sweet and thoughtful card. She oohed and ahhed and even took a few pictures with her camera phone. "I could just sit here and tell you how beautiful it is all day," she said, in a matter-of-fact tone with her arms folded as we sat on my comfy brown chairs in the living room.

That night, my parents surprised us by stopping by Mr. Big's restaurant to dine-in, so we surprised them back with the good news. My mother, of course, started crying and my dad has this all-knowing grin on his face. Needless to say, they were extremely happy, making us feel extremely happy.

The next day, Mr. Big and I headed off to his best friend's wedding in Seattle. The wedding was a mix of Thai/Laos/Chinese and Western, meaning the bride had four gowns and the groom was very broke.

Somewhere in between all the customs, I guess it was tradition for the groom to have a party with only his side of the family and friends the night before. Bad idea. There was so much alcohol, even the groom's father had a hangover the next morning.

The groom's mother had owned a restaurant and was supplying all of his friends with tons of food that weekend. I have never eaten so much in one weekend in my life. I was constantly shoving egg rolls, fried rice, duck and tripe into my mouth. Delicious.

We tagged along with the bridal party during the day of the reception. The day started off with Starbucks, then picking up the bride for a Thai ceremony, eating, going back to the groom's house for a Chinese tea ceremony, eating, stopping by a flower garden and a Buddhist temple, eating, then the reception, eating.

Mr. Big and I have never been to a big event like this together, so we've never seen each other dressed up. We've never even danced together before, so it was quite the experience. I've also never seen so many Heineken bottles before, either... I think Mr. Big alone easily drank 20 beers and at least 10 shots. His liver is going on strike soon.

The reception was very organized for having 300 people. It didn't feel overly crowded and the decorations were nicely done. A little over-the-top, but hey, when you have 300 people, you really don't have a choice. There was a live Thai band that had bright lime green outfits. It was like the Adam Sandler movie The Wedding Singer...but Asian...and bad. I couldn't help but laugh every time the woman's raspy voice got on the mic.

As the bride and groom went to their hotel, the party traveled back to the groom's house, where the groom's brother played host. Within an hour, we were dropping like flies. One guy, who was stuffing his face and laughing one minute, was passed out on the floor the next. Another guy passed out sitting at a table. It turned into one giant drunken sleep-over.

The next day, the bride 'n groom came back and we all went out for dim sum. Before we rolled out, the guys wrote on the back of the newlyweds' car "Jus Married!" and tied water bottles to the back of their car, but pushed them far underneath so they wouldn't see them until later.

The couple laughed, then poked fun at the spelling error, and vowed to get even with whoever had wrote it. And they sure did.

Later that evening, we all came out to see our cars vandalized in different ways. Two had giant male genitals drawn on the back of their windows, while mine had the "Jus Engaged" message. Thankfully, as we drove back, it was starting to get dark, so we didn't have anyone honking at us on the road.

I'm pretty exhausted after this weekend, but I can't settle down just yet. In two days, I'm going to Las Vegas with a bunch of girlfriends, so it's going to get even crazier. Oh well. Might as well enjoy the excitement.