Tyler asked me to marry him on Friday, and I said “yes.”
Actually, I started laughing, reached for the ring and made him put it on me. It wasn’t until a few minutes later that we realized I didn’t actually answer the question.
Granted, I knew it was coming. We were hashtag so modern and talked to our parents a few weeks beforehand, and then I sent him an email with the ring I wanted, which he ordered the next day.
A lot of people knew it was going to happen before it did, actually. I’m a little embarrassed at how badly kept this “secret” was. We even set a date before the actual proposal (Aug. 22, 2015!), and I got my dress. It’s pretty.
We still wanted to wait for the ring to be on my finger before we told the world at large. Keeping that on lockdown was tough, especially since shipping took longer than we’d hoped. Plus with my new job, I was brimming with excitement and wanted to explode.
But now everyone knows and we’re in serious celebration mode, so I feel a lot less anxious about holding in all this goodness.
Also, I got to see my Bonnies Friday evening in Watkins Glen, which just added to the general happiness. I had to leave Saturday morning due to work, which sucked, but whatever. I’m still happy, and my face hurts from smiling.
I got one. I’ll be leaving journalism and going back to my one true love: public relations. I’ll also get to work in a really cute village with lots of cute restaurants and shops. I’m sad to be leaving some of the people I’ve met through work, but I’m so ready for a change.
I haven’t had to dress up for work since my hospital internship, which was three years ago (holy shit), and I’m excited to get to do that again.
Things have been a little crazy in the last few weeks, and it’s going to get even crazier. Lots of great things are happening and I’m incredibly happy, but damn. Even happy, exciting things have their stressful moments. It’s a lot at once. Still, I’m insanely grateful.
I’m enjoying cycling way more than I ever enjoyed running. I loved riding my bike around as a kid and hated running, so I probably should listen to 13-year-old Amanda more often. Not really. She was stupid. In this case, she was right.
The thought “20 seconds of insane courage” has been helping me a lot lately. I’m not exactly courageous, but I’m learning that I have to pretend to be brave in order to make things happen.
My appetite has been nill. This is sad because I love eating food.