Goin' to the Chapel

Hello, Gentle Reader!  Guess what!  I’ve finally gotten past the eight-ish weeks of craziness and now have free evenings again!  Not…many, but more than I had, and I’ll take it.  I’ve missed you.

Moment of silence for those we lost.

And while I’ve been busy, there have been murders and midterms and I did some experiments with Spackle and a blow torch but we’re not going to talk about all that today.  We’re going to take a moment for the bad, then focus on something good in the world—or at least, in my world.

I’m getting married!!  Well, assuming he says yes.  At the time of writing this we’re less than a week out, but I want this junk ready to go – if I posted this on Sunday, Nov 11, I did something right. 

So because I’m me, when I could have just found a quiet sweet special moment to propose, I have instead made an elaborate, ridiculous plan.  Let me tell you about this elaborate, ridiculous project, which has filled my few free moments and I have been unable to share with the person I giggle over elaborate, ridiculous things with.

Back when we first started dating, I told “Andy” to never get it in his head that he gets to ask me to marry him.  *I* am commitment-phobic.  *I* don’t like feeling cornered.  *I* get to ask.  And “Andy,” he knows who I am.  I mean we’ve been friends for like 20 years now and only romantic for the last few.  So he gets it.  

"You guys are weird."

When we started dating, and I wouldn’t admit we were boyf and girlf until…like, wayyyyyyyy down the line.  We weren’t dating, we were just…dolphins.  That was our word for it, because I don’t care what you call it, it is what it is, but don’t rush me and don’t tell me what to do.  For our first Christmas he got me a necklace with dolphins on it and I wear it every day and people think I’m from Florida and dolphins are my spirit animal but no, dolphins are not my spirit animal,




this goose is my spirit animal, but also it took a really long time to admit the person I was in love with who was in love with me and we were going on dates and having romance-times together was someone I might call my “boyfriend”.

And we moved in together, and he secretly loves my cats (BOTH CATS, “Andy,” if you’re reading), and everything has been super great.  Turns out, it helps a lot when you’ve known each other since you were like 18.  You already know things like “what’s he like when he’s angry?” and “is he a good friend?” and “does she lie about money?” and “is she nice to dogs?”.  Over the last year or so my niece has been non-stop with the when are you getting married as though her biological clock is ticking like this when really, she’s eight, and she’s just really worried about being a flower girl.  Additionally my sister has been a little, hurry it up you’re not getting any younger.  And “Andy” himself has recently been like, “Man we really love each other, if only there was sommmmmething we could do about that…” and I have been like, “Get off my junk, we talked about this.” 

My other niece apparently burst into very genuine tears last week because it was so sad and unfair
that I am unmarried and have no kids…but she also burst into
equally sincere tears the week before that because it wasn’t fair
 that the ground gets to have all the trees.
  So.  Take it with a grain of salt.

But I have also been like, man, I want to marry this guy.  And I sat on that for a while being like BUT COMMITMENTTTTTTT!!!! before I was like, ok, but also marriage, let’s get serious about it.  And after that it took a while to say it out loud to someone (my sister), and since then it’s been kinda non-stop. 

Real Convo:

Me: *Deep Breath*  I’m going to ask “Andy” to marry me.

Sis: Oh GOOD! I have been wanting to go to a wedding!  How about a destination wedding in the Bahamas, I would love that!

Me: 

And then we got down to the serious business of planning elaborate ridiculousness, because we are cut from the same cloth.

So of course this video popped into our heads…but getting all my friends together to plan some sort of coordinated dance routine is not real life, and also as I mentioned, I have been super overbooked for two months.  Like, very few free hours, weekday or weekend. 

He loves baseball, which I will politely say I do not love and leave it at that, so we thought about doing one of those jumbo-tron proposals at the baseball stadium, but here’s the thing.  First, I’d have to go to a game.  I’d have to sit through not-my-favorite 72 hours of boredom on what should be a special day.  More importantly, it would baaaasically sign me up for a lifetime of him trying to get me to go to further, future baseball games because “that’s our special thing” and me crushing the hope in his eyes like Godzilla in Tokyo because no, obviously not, never, again and again, til death do us part.  Seems like a lose-lose sitch, so we moved on.

He ALSO loves movies…and I recently learned there is a completely adorable old-school drive-in movie theater in the mountains a few hours away, and fall in the mountains is my *most favorite* thing. Also recently a bunch of us all went to the mountains together and did I listen to the Last of the Mohicans Soundtrack?  

I know it's problematic but it is so good

Did I make everyone listen to the Last of the Mohicans soundtrack?  

I did. 

So I call the drive-in, and they’re like, sure, come on up, bring your friends.  I tell them I am asking the boyf for his hand, and they’re very sweet and excited, and 

basically tell me I can put a little video or something on the screen before the movie.  Now we are, as they say, cooking with gas.

I start to plan a movie, and asking friends to help.  Turns out, I have contacts in the film industry, who know how to do this.  What contacts?  His contacts.  He works at a production studio, where they have real cameras and real editing equipment and know what they are doing and are down to keep a secret. 

The joy, perhaps, is in the secret...

Let me be clear, when I say movie—I do not mean movie.  

Spoiler alert: this preview has not been
approved by anyone.

I perhaps mean trailer.  I mean a few brief minutes, and less of a plot and more of the hint of a plot.  I want it to start like a horror movie, because he’s way into that, and for him to not know what’s going on at first, til suddenly he does.  I want the green screen that says, this preview has been approved for all audiences, and a voice-over saying “In a world gone mad…” like Don Lafontaine (or my cousin) (who recently did a fabo music thing just btw), etc.  So I start trying to put this together.

Let me tell you a few things I have learned.  First, when deciding to do something you have no skill set in, it helps to get a professional.  I mean, the director, we’ll call her “Molly,” (except we won’t call her “Molly,”  we will call her “Carpenter,” like John Carpenter, because what fun is a secret movie project if you don’t have secret code names and also what if "Andy" sees a text pop up and 

Me waiting for Saturday,
when me and "Molly"
can be facebook friends....

he’s like, how do you know “Molly?” and I would rather deal with “Who is this Carpenter guy and why is he asking if you can meet tomorrow after work?”) is a MOTHERTRUCKING PROFESSIONAL.  

She went to grad school for this, she knows what she’s doing, she knows lenses and angles and “clean exits” and directs like it’s her job because it is, and also she’s just generally a joy to be around.  By the time you read this we are allowed to publicly be friends.

It would have the movie version of this fine art.

Worth noting: if it were just me this would have been recorded on an iPhone, probably portrait not landscape, and edited together with the Microsoft Paint equivalent of editing software.  And it would have been fine!  But this...it’s better. 

Like this, but honestly we were at a Starbucks with
a notebook so...slightly lower production value.

Then another professional, we’ll call her “Sammie” (code name “Tina” for Tina Fey) helps produce.  I don’t even know what that means but it means the day we got all our friends together to do a busy scene went WAY BETTER than it would have otherwise.  It also means I got to watch them plan out said busy scene, complete with little paper doodle scraps to represent all the people and a sketch of the area based on Google Satellite and a plan for all the cuts and angles. 

Another thing I have learned is what a terrible liar I am.  Again, I’ve had very few available daylight hours, and this kinda needs to get done by Nov 10 because that’s when we’re scheduled at the drive-in.  “Andy” knows we’re going to the drive-in, and everyone is invited, and he thinks it’s just cuz hey, cool drive-in and mountains.  Fine.  But coming up with things I’ve been doing in the meantime that are not “sitting at home covered with cats” on the one unscheduled evening I have wrested away from my anxious over-scheduling is not easy for me.  I’d rather “Andy” ask about “Carpenter” than “Molly” because I can laugh off the “Carpenter” questions and I would freeze cold if asked about “Molly”.  I am a terrible liar.

Luckily, I can outsource that. 

Real friends help you hide the
body first, and then ask why.

Me: Give me a lie for why I’m not going home at the normal time tonight.

“Jen”: You’re picking something up from a client. Your boss needed something at the last minute.  You had to finish a project that you forgot was due.  You met up with your coworkers for drinks.  You are stuck in ridiculous traffic. 

Me: Ok, we can make this work.

“Jen”:  Great!  Wait, where will you really be?

Other lesson: I hate keeping secrets.  Or wait, no—that’s not entirely it.  I can keep a secret.  I hate not telling good stories.  The difference is subtle but potent.  I mean, I started a blog because I love telling stories.  If you’re reading this, then I’m at least not super terrible at it.  I have been doing this ridiculous, complex project—my favorite kind—and I can’t tell the person I love to tell about my ridiculous, complex projects.  I have been having big hilarious convos with my parents (don't worry Dad, you can menace him about being a #provider in December)—and I can’t tell the person I tell about hilarious convos with my parents.  I have been planning this event with the drive-in people, the film crew, “Carpenter” and “Tina”—and I can’t tell the person I tell about all the interesting-ranging-to-mildly-interesting-ranging-to-totally-not-interesting things that I do or that happen to me.  The pay off on this had better be great, because sitting on it for 6 weeks has been a real pain.  I have a great story to tell about my day—and instead, I have to be like, no, hanging out at my sister’s house where I have totally absolutely I'm-not-lying been since last time you saw me was boring, nothing much happened.

(I HAVE GREAT STORIES TO TELL, READER.)

This one I didn’t learn, this one I knew—but our friends are solid gold.  People interrupted their New York vacations for this.  People showed up in the rain.  People drove hours out of their way.  People wore fake beards, terrible terrible $3.00 fake beards.  

They gave their time and their energy, their voices and their bodies, offered up their houses and their talents, interrupted their schedules, wrangled their kids and/or dogs, and all I gave them was maybe a donut but mostly a “Hey, thanks so much!” and billing in the credits of our definitely-going-to-make-it-to-the-big-time faux-horror trailer. 

We have low standards of hygiene.

I also learned that eating chocolate filled donuts through a fake beards is revolting, and that is coming from me, and I am a goblin. 

If you’re reading this, he said yes ᴥ ß I was looking for a heart symbol but instead I found this tiny octopusy thing.  Watch our dumb trailer; it is dumb for love.

We're such nerds :)