Big news

Ray and I are making it official.



We want our relationship on paper, in a county courthouse, recognized by officialdom, ritualized and formalized. We want to be responsible to each other. If I'm in a car accident, his is the face I want to see when I come out of the fog of shock and narcotics. When I pay taxes I want our socials to be right next to each other. If I have to be put in an institution, his is the signature I want involuntarily committing me. When I come home after work, he's the one I want to tell all the stupid stuff that happened to me, except I've probably been emailing him as it all happens, but that doesn't matter, he wants to hear it again. He's the one I want to have private jokes with for the rest of my life. He's the one I want to bring orange-banana-strawberry smoothies when he has a cold and is miserable. He's the one I want to change headlights and windshield wipers and electrical switches for because Lord knows he can't figure/reach that stuff out for himself. He's the one I want to hike with, even though he sets a diabolical pace.

He's the one I want. That's basically what it comes down to. And he, in turn, wants me.

So it took a while to post all this because before I could have my Flickr contact here find out and maybe say, "Hey, didja know ..." so that word filtered back, we wanted to tell the person responsible for introducing us, Grays Harbor's yenta par excellence Betsy Seidel. So we did that after the 7th Street movie committee meeting tonight at, of course, Stiffy's Bar and Grill. Of course Betsy was super-excited, because that is how she lives. She is a high voltage wire, one that you cannot say no to. And thank goodness for that!

So anyway, although we've been "secretly engaged" for the better part of a year now, Ray didn't think we'd be truly honest-to-God engaged without a ring. Funny, I was fine without it. And funny, it took him until late fall to say anything about this. He just moves a lot more deliberately than I do. But I told him, whatever, buddy, I'll put up with an uncomfortable piece of jewelry on my finger if it makes you happy. Just make sure it's cruelty-free, and you don't even need to get a diamond or any kind of gem that has been ripped from the bosom of Mother Earth under uncertain humanitarian instances or toxic environmental ones.

Obviously I am the buzzkill in this relationship. But Ray went the Canada route, and he got me a beautiful, ridiculously nice rock that sparkles like Polaris reflected in the eye of a Canadian polar bear. Except this polar bear has beautiful compound eyes. Seriously, I thought I was one of them crunchy feminazi types and I put this bad boy on and I am completely hypnotized and I'm in my car impersonating Elizabeth Taylor. "WHITE DIAMONDS!" ::and moue::.

To give you a sense of how glinty this ring is, I was sitting a full three rows behind Andy Johnson of the Grays Harbor Banjo Band Tuesday, getting down to "Am I Blue" and "The Blues My Naughty Sweetie Gives To Me," and he gets up to do the Band Business meeting. Well, one of the pieces of business is this, and as Andy's holding it up he says, "I noticed Callie has a nice new ring on her finger, when did that happen?" Way to put me on the spot. At my first ever meeting where I play with you guys. But seriously, I'm proud as heck to be engaged to Ray, so no lasting damage.

And of course the way he "proposed" (not like it had not been on the table, debated, discussed and even subject to the interrogation of this book, a process that took hours and days) was pretty cute. He used his knowledge of my undying love of Frosted Mini-Wheats, wrapping the ring in an old FMW box he did this to:



It was too cute. I could not say no, nor would I want to. Ray is the top, the bomb, the tonic to my gin, the milk to my cookies. And lest you wonder if he returns the sentiments, sometimes I think perhaps more strongly. Fact: Ray thinks it is cute when I forget I have Kleenex in my lap and I get up to do something and it falls on the floor. Whether this feeling will last forever is surely something I will be testing just because my PJs don't have so many pockets as his.

Anyway, it's been kind of hard to keep quiet, even though it has been out of necessity.

A nice side story: Apparently the ring came in before Christmas, in a relatively unmarked package, to Ray's office. The receptionist, wondering what the heck it was, opened it and quickly and abashedly gave it to Ray when she realized it was one of those kinds of rings. She promised not to say anything to anyone (ahem, she may have told one person, it came out later.) But dang, Ray left her to sweat it out for like a week and a half! That's cruelty!

When Ray finally told folks at work, it was at a much-belated holiday party (the weather here has been terrible) after they'd been talking about this story. "Well, I got engaged this weekend," he announced blithely. And thus began the commotion.

But if Ray thought this announcement would bring attention away from the holidays and back where it belongs, ahem, *us*, he was perhaps a little bit thwarted somebody else had a similar announcement. And I'm being circumspect about who it is because who knows if he's gotten around to telling anyone. But suffice to say, Ray and I are definitely the cuter couple.

Ray also heard stories about his coworkers' weddings. His boss had a wedding so elaborate there was supposed to be a petal dump from an overhead plane. But the wind is awful strong in Hoquiam, and the pilot misjudged and all of West Hoquiam got slapped with the petals of 1,000 roses.

Ironically, when I announced my impending nuptials at work, Kathy brought up the same wedding, and recalled being kind of embarrassed when a beefeater announced her arrival, as he did for everyone. I'm telling you, this was one for the books and should really be fictionalized. And so should my friend's dad's remarriage, where people were told to dress "as the spirit of love" and he and the bride came out in bright, primary-colored silk robes and did an interminable dance symbolizing their relationship while the non-dancing guests sat on the floor. Oh, yes, the ideas I have to work with!

Because, see, no matter how much I whine and beg, Ray wants a traditional ceremony in front of our friends, family and a bunch of people we feel obligated to invite just because. No matter how much I beg and whine for us to elope, he refuses to do anything but the sort of wedding where people have to show up.

I kind of tweaked my mom about it. She thinks I should wear my (much shorter and probably when she got married thinner) grandmother's dress (which is black so I'm down), but I told her I was wearing white sweats with "BRIDE" bedazzled across the butt. I also told her I wanted to get gay married. At least that way my marriage can be a threat to everyone else's instead of a marshmallowy non-ninja of a marriage. My mother, who I thought was also something of a feminazi, replied, "What on earth does that even mean?" Living in Arkansas, which recently passed a law banning gay couples from adopting which includes heterosexuals cohabiting, has really done a number on her.

Luckily for everyone I don't really care to have a "perfect" day. And luckily for everyone who will be invited (probably all of you reading this blog, even the people I don't know who stumbled across here accidentally), we actually kind of already have a day. I know! Four days in and we're that far ahead of the game (maybe)! It seems like July 26, so clear the decks.

Anyway, just wanted to share the good news.