Tuesday, March 19, 2024 05:28

?>

engaging story

So, I was totally going to post this on our anniversary…and didn’t. So then I was going to post it on the anniversary of the event, and I didn’t. So then I thought Valentine’s day would be a good time, since it’s all romantic and such, but I didn’t. Then I was going to post it as a birthday gift to Christopher Eccleston…but once again, I didn’t. So here is the story on a random Wednesday. Some people know the story, I thought everyone did, but yet, I still find myself retelling the story to looks of utter surprise. Or people know part, but not the art that shows how incredibly dense I can be. So, without further ado, here’s the story of how G and I got engaged.
To set the scene, it’s fall of 1999. It was my first semester as a college student after taking a bit of time off. Nine Inch Nails finally released a new album. It had been five years since their last, and we were amped. I had never seen NIN live at that point (travesty, I know). Like many bands/musicians/singers, their first tour for the album was European. We began to joke about how cool it would be to see them in Paris. I had a jar on top of G’s dryer, where I would put quarters for laundry (to show what I was saving by doing my laundry there, instead of in my laundry room). This jar became the “going to Paris to see trent jar.” It was hilarious…as if we would.
Then, about two weeks before Thanksgiving, G picks me up from school. He asks me if he were able to get tickets for the concert, and found reasonable airfare, could I go to Paris with him to see NIN over Thanksgiving. I laughed…he’s such a funny boy. He’s like, “seriously. Could you get the time off work.” I told him I promised to work since I was in retail, and Black Friday is kind of a big deal, but I could see. However, I told him even if I could, I couldn’t afford to go to France. He tells me that he would pay for it, all I would need to do was get the time off. He’d already purchased concert tickets, to be sure we could get them, but would need to know soon so he could get the plane tickets he’d found. I tell him I’ll see what I can do.
The next day I go to work, and tell my manager the situation. She tells me she’ll talk to the store manager and get back to me by the end of the day. the end of the day comes, and she tells me that he didn’t get back to her, and if I need to get the tickets, to go for it. SWEET! I tell G, and the plan is in motion. I was going to Paris to see Nine Inch Nails. Funny sidenote to this…the SM got back to her the next day, and told her I couldn’t go. So my manager told him that if I couldn’t, I would quit. Suddenly, he was fine with me going.
So, G secures tickets, a hotel. I talk to my instructors for my affected classes, and have my work schedule cleared. We were flying out on the day before Thanksgiving, and coming back on the following Sunday. Squeeeee!!!!
We arrive safely in Paris. We are staying in a very basic, but clean hotel. The night manager was super cool, and indulged us with our broken French. We were able to do some sightseeing on Thursday, before the concert. Yes, we were spending Thanksgiving in a country that doesn’t celebrate it, seeing a rock concert. Wicked awesome. There, I said it. We made sure that we knew where the place was and everything, and were totally ready. That evening, we got decked out. Cute, but Mosh-pit ready. We took the metro to the venue, and as we walked up to the place, we were bombarded by peeps handing out flyer after flyer. We just kept repeating, “no, merci.” we got in, and the place was pretty freaking cool. Not very big, maybe held 3,000 people. We were on the main floor, and got pretty close. Sadly, Atari Teenage Riot opened for NIN. I’d been unfortunate to see them before, and the were no better this time around. However, we suffered through to see our Trent. It was worth it. The show was amazing. So worth going to Paris for. It was a little surreal to be surrounded by people singing along with the band with French accents.
After the show, we scored some great concert tees and such. I will admit, I feel extra cool wearing my version 1.0 tees, with the european locations on the back. We also bought some as gifts for our favorite NIN fans. Then we headed to the Hard Rock Cafe for some Thanksgiving drinks and din-din. Hey, it was open.
So, Friday we set out for sightseeing. G is acting especially strange. He’s insistent that we go to l’arc de triomphe. At sunset. We have to get there at sunset. I’m all, whatever…if we get there, we get there…not the end of the world. He’s emphatic that the view from the top at sunset is amazing, and I need to see it. Okay..whatever. The whole day he’s checking his watch, and reminding me he wants to get there at sunset. I’m thinking he needs to chill out…it can’t be that big of a deal. We do get there in the evening, and start climbing the billionty steps to the top. I’m thinking to myself the whole way up, “this’d better be worth it.” We get up there, and the sun is indeed starting to set. G is happy, everything’s cool. So, we get up on the raised sidewalk around the top to see Paris. We start at the Champs d’elysee side. It’s decorated for te holidays as only the French could do. We walk the whole way around, snapping pictures and chatting. Then we return to where we started. I wanted to get some pictures of the crazy trees wrapped in white tulle with coloured lights shining on them that lined the street. G tells me he threw the camera in his backpack, and he needed to dig it out. He proceeds to open his bag and start looking. I’m enjoying hte scenery as he says “here, hold this.” I take the object from him, thinking he is just getting stuff out of the way to find the camera. I continue to enjoy the scenery. I suddenly realize I am holding a wee velvet box. It dawns on me that it is a jewelry box. “Why does he have a jewelry box in his backpack? weird,” I think. After a minute I realize I should open it. There’s a diamond ring in the box (a beautiful one, I might add). “Why is he carrying around a diamond ring?” I wonder. Another minute goes by. I realize it is an engagement ring, and again wonder why he has one. I slowly start to put the pieces together. “Is this…oh. Oh. Oh. OH! OOOOOOHHHHHHHHH!” I then look at him. I had no idea that he was not looking in the bag at all, he’d just been watching me the whole time. I look at him some more. Finally I say, “so are you gonna ask me or what?” “Will you marry me?” “Yes.” Crying and hugging ensue. Then I made him get down on one knee and ask me again. Annoyed tourists were trying to get around us as we were being all silly and giddy.
We saw a few more sights, and I made him ask me at each landmark we stopped at. I’m such a nerd. Then we went back to the hotel and got really dressed up to go out to dinner and celebrate. We ate at TGI Friday’s. Seriously. It was open, and they had food.
So, that’s the story. Thanks Trent.

3 Responses to “engaging story”

  1. Dagger says:

    Have you guys ever been told that you are one of the GREAT couples on the planet!! That is the way that all engagements should be!!!

  2. Bradley Slavik says:

    Fantastic story! Wish I had one as good…

    • raven says:

      I have to give all the credit to the hubs. He managed to come up with something better than a movie script!
      Thanks for reading!
      xoxox

Leave a Reply