So, busy weekend. We were lucky enough to get a quick visit from Matt by housing him for a few days while he was in town for a wedding. We got to make a trip to the Museum of Civilization (...Children's Museum) and had a few meals. Plus, an unplanned visit from another high school companion provided us with plenty of opportunity for reminiscing and catch-up. I'm not too ashamed to admit that we've somehow become 'that' age when we have to fill in the gaps in each others' memories. Creepy.

Mark and I had a different wedding to attend on Sunday, out of town. Despite spending three evenings of shopping (dress, shoes, purse, jewellery) and several hundreds of dollars (add to the aforementioned: gift, B&B, transportation, $40 pantyhose that ripped before I got to wear them), we managed to have a good time. The bride was stunning, the groom was adorably focused on remembering his choreography (face her? stand on the side with the groomsmen? face the minister??). The hit of the ceremony was when the bride lovingly placed her intended's wedding band on the wrong hand, and only realized it when he went to do the same to her. The split-second transition between looking annoyed at his mistake and realizing her own was truly priceless, and it allowed the entire congregation to enjoy room-shaking laughter.

The reception was beautiful, with a multi-course meal and SPECTACULAR decorations (setup was provided by yours truly, natch). Also, open bar.

When it came time for the bride to toss her bouquet, the eager and well-wishing maid of honour gave me a mighty shove to place me front and centre. It only took a wee bit of lunging and a withering glare to a fellow single girl, and I'd managed to catch the bouquet. I rock. Also, I seem to recall Mark adding some incentive to the bouquet toss by suggesting that a successful catch may shorten my wait for a ring. Bonus.

The rest is relatively boring - too many drinks, missing the "breakfast" part of B&B, buying some gourmet mustard and homemade fudge in the little town, driving home, having a long nap - until Mark decided that we should detour on our walk home from the convenience store where we'd bought some fixins for dinner. He took me to his favourite pipe-smoking spot by the river and started in with the leading questions - Do I love him? Do I want to spend my life with him? Huge *DECOY* blinkers started flashing in my head while I convinced myself that this was OBVIOUSLY a ploy to tease poor little madly-in-love me. When he said "Well, I have a question for you..." I fully expected him to ask "Would you rather have pizza tonight instead of sandwiches?"

He claims that my jaw dropped when I saw the silver bell box in his hand, so I must've been in shock when I heard him ask "Will you musuuhh muh?" and replied with a confused "WHAT???" He repeated, with a shy grin, "Will you MARRY me?"

I followed up by questioning whether he'd taken me by the wrong hand (my right), but he reminded me that I wouldn't get to wear any sparkly things on my left hand until I regained function of my still-dropped jaw.

I think I must've giggled as I said "...oh! Yeah." and he gently slid the ring onto my finger.

Never doubt the wedding magic, ladies. Go for the bouquet.

Questions? Comments? Declarations of love?

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