Top Secret Announcement: A Reverse Proposal

Hello everyone. If you are a sister or brother-in-law of David's, you might want to stop reading. Or, you can read, but you must now lock your lips and throw away the key until August. And if you are a friend of David's, you must keep total silence. Total silence. Also, from time to time, this post will be hidden back in the archives of the blog so that a curious David does not see it. He normally does not read the blog, but just in case he misses me while filming, and he randomly checks it, that would be bad.

Last Sunday at brunch at Good Enough to Eat with my two girlfriends, Wedding Mista (currently planning her own wedding), and Flapper Mista (she's clearly happily lived in another era), without intending it, we discussed my woes of waiting. Waiting for the big M question from David. And I am not a good waiter.

David and I have been dating for over 3 years, and living together for I guess 1.5 years, or 2. We knew each other before that, since we were neighbors in our building. It took him almost a year to officially ask me out, but I was ending things with someone else for a bit of that. He choose our date to a pizza place to tell me, on which he waited until the very end when he was "dropping me off." I was in the elevator to go up to my new apartment on the 9th floor, and he held the elevator button so that the doors would stay open. It was then that he told me he had grown "smitten" over time, and he just needed to tell me how he felt. He invited me in for water to further discuss, and I accepted.

I was newly single, so I did declare that I could not be an official girlfriend, but later on, I would be. He claims he waited so long because he knew I was moving from the 4th floor to the 9th floor, and in case we didn't work out, at least we wouldn't be sharing a wall. Needless to say, a year later, after I accepted his "smitten" confession, I invited him to move up into my gloriously lit apartment with lots of natural light. My reasoning: an elevator is not worth $1700 of New York rent.

David is "an older man." Sexy, isn't it? So wise. He's been through crazy girlfriends before, myself included, and deals quite well with whatever I have to say, usually. So it's not like we've been dating since high school. And it's not like I'm 33 and he's 34 and we're still evaluating boyfriends and girlfriends. I'm 30 and he's...older. :) According to him, we are "still in Courtship" (when he said that, I said: "Really!? Then I need more STUFF!"). His married friends have years of dating the person under their belts. Like 6 or 9. And I just don't wait that long.

So, after discussing it and getting permission from my entire family (Grampa Jim, Nana, Mom, (Dad doesn't know yet) Godfather Oz, Uncle Bill, my sister, her friend (my adopted sister) Gene, Little T-Bird Mista, New Mom Mista, Dental Mista), I have made a decision: I am going to propose to David. This plan was hatched over that brunch I spoke of earlier. We decided that it just might work. Firstly, I needed family permission, since I thought they were quite conservative (all Ohio Republicans). I have since learned, that my Nana "proposed to all of them" (oh dear), and New Mom Mista did it to her wonderful husband, which he then matched. My grandfather offers his full support because he thinks David is such a "swell guy" and my Godfather offered to come up to New York with a shotgun (he lives on a farm).

So. I had wished that David would pop the question to me during our summer trip to Maine with my family. He loves it there, and has been asking me repeatedly about the dates of when we are going there. This made me suspect. However, he is so deeply involved with the film shooting in New Haven (which just made NPR yesterday), that I truly think he wants to go there for a vacation only.

So. The plan is to leave a love trail of thoughtful notes explaining my thoughts on marriage, on us, on new adventures, and all of that mushy stuff. Nana says I should be on one of huge rocks behind our house, which means I would have to do it in the daylight so that we both don't kill ourselves rock climbing. The location is still under consideration, but it will be outside somewhere.

His answer will instigate one of two paths (or maybe both, who knows):
Yes: maybe we'll pursue moving to a shore town outside of New York City, but still have access by train.
No, or weird hesitation: I will move to Charleston, SC, my college town. It's very artsy there, and a good developing community for young minds who start businesses. Heck, I'd love to go there in both circumstances, so we'll see.

So. Stay tuned to this blog for further developments. This would happen at the end of July. So I don't have that long. I've known the answer for some time, so it's just a matter of when.

Note from the future: I've done it. Click here for the play by play.