Today marks one year from the day hubby asked me to marry him. When we first started dating, he had me thoroughly convinced that this day would never happen. I accepted him at face value, and never pushed him for anything more. He was a 'confirmed bachelor' you know.

Every so often, he'd bump up the relationship status- always surprising me with each step. Then the biggie happened. He asked me to move in with him (we lived about 1.5 hours apart from each other, making it difficult to see each other often.)

I think my reaction surprised him. He was expecting the 'rush into his arms tearfully saying yes' scene. What he got was the "I have to think about it, I'm going to go for a drive." ......"By myself", scene.

I was raised in a very conservative religion. Although I formally gave that religion up about four years ago, my parents didn't. I knew that my living with someone before marriage would absolutely kill them and even though I have issues with my parents religious 'zeal', I still respected their right to feel the way they do.

So, I came up with a compromise during that drive. I told him that I would only consider moving in with him if it was a precursor to marriage and that we had to have a wedding date set within a year. He agreed to that. This was the first and last time I ever brought up that topic. I moved in with him the first weekend in September 2003.

I'd had two fake outs in the weeks leading up to the day he asked me to marry him. One of them was a beautiful weekend getaway in a wonderful posh hotel. He'd reserved the honeymoon suite with rose petals on the floor leading up to the bed. I just *knew* he was going to pop the question. I even poked around his suit and suitcase trying to find the ring while he was getting ready for dinner. Yeah, I'm nosy like that. Dinner came and went. Nothing. The waiter asked if we wanted dessert. Aha! I thought. He's going to have the ring brought out with dessert! Ummm, no. When we went back to the room, there were new items; an ice bucket containing champagne and a silver platter with a cover on it. "There it is!", I thought. I didn't want to seem eager so I let him lift the lid. Damned chocolate covered strawberries.

The next fake out was the day before the actual proposal. He told me to get all dolled up because he was going to take me to a swanky restaurant. There were classical guitars playing in the background and candlelight at the table. Suddenly he grabbed my hand and looked at me with tears in his eyes and told me that he can't remember when he'd ever been this happy. He went on to tell me that he loves every minute we spend together and how it all feels so right. I just *knew* that this was the moment. It was so perfect, well except there was no proposal.

The following day, we decided to just lay around the house in our sweats and watch movies all day. I don't even remember what we were watching when he paused the TiVo, got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. I thought he was joking so I told him to shut up and put the TiVo back on play. I suppose he didn't quite get the reaction he expected out of the proposal either. I'm funny that way. He continued trying to convince me that he was serious. I continued to not believe him. I mean, come on.... where were the candles? Where was the music?

Even on to the next morning, I still didn't believe him so I decided to not bring it up when we woke up. He rolled over and said, "hey, did we discuss anything of importance last night? I had a little too much to drink, you know." Then he started laughing. I wanted to slug him. I probably did.

So, that was my marriage proposal. Less than three months from the day we moved in together, just over a year from the day we met. I'm really quite glad it happened that way because it proved to me that he took me to all those wonderful places because he wanted to pamper me. Nothing more. He proposed to me when I couldn't have looked ANY WORSE. That, in a nutshell says it all.

So, today is a special day for me. The day that the confirmed bachelor was a confirmed bachelor no more. I haven't regretted saying yes for even a minute.

Me and Marie Osmond. We're just like that (ok, now put your fingers as close together as possible). How close you ask? So close that we had a joint telethon last night. We were out to save our condiment resources. CONDIMENTS... you know, ketchup and mustard. Yeah, it was another one of my whacky dreams.

There we were, Marie and I, on TV pleading with people to please use the last of your condiments before buying a new bottle. We gave tips such as storing the ketchup bottle upside-down to get the last bit out. Uh huh. This is a huge tip, so you'll want to write that one down.

There are so many disturbing things about this dream. Why condiments instead of, say, the spotted owl? Why Marie Osmond?

And the worst part; we were both wearing flannel shirts. I almost avoided sharing that horrid bit of information. I wouldn't want anyone to think I was strange you know.

The day after Thanksgiving we all went out to breakfast. It's tradition. Pretty much the only tradition I like at my mom's house.

Mom: So, what theme are you using to decorate for Christmas this year?

Me: No theme, I'm not decorating this year.

Mom: What? You HAVE to decorate for Christmas.

Me: I really can't. I don't have the room since we moved into BJ's bachelor pad.

Mom: Well, let's just say you do decorate. What theme or color scheme would you be using?

Me: Really. I'm NOT decorating for Christmas. In fact, even though we'll have a huge house next year, I think that I like the idea of not decorating so much that I might not do it until I have grandkids. It's very freeing to not worry about getting this done.

Mom: But you just have to decorate for Christmas. I want to get you something. So, what theme do you like?

BJ: Hey! The biscuits and gravy here is great!

BJ... gotta love him.

Anyone see a theme here?

BJ gets quote of the day.

"Why doesn't your mom just hand out a script for everyone? That way, she'll be happy with what everyone says."

This was prompted by the following scene at the Thanksgiving dinner table:

Mom: RisibleGirl, I know you don't like to do this, but we're going to do it anyway. I want to go around the table and have everyone say what they're thankful for.
Me: OK, how about I go last. Then I can say that I'm thankful that this is all over with?
Mom: (ignoring me) I'll go first.
Me: (thinking, oh hey, there's a big surprise. She's wanting to set the 'tone'.)
Mom: (goes on for what seems like hours about church and family)
Mom: Ok, who wants to go next?
Son #2 (Casey): I knew we'd have to do this, so I came prepared
Me: (feeling shamed that I've raised such a suck up.)
Casey: I'm thankful for my new truck.
Mom: Casey! Don't you have anything more meaningful to be thankful for?
Me: (kicks hubby in the shin as an acknowledgment of how much I really hate being there at that moment)
BJ: (ignores me)
Casey: Well, it's been a bad year for me. I've had everything taken away from me. My job, my car, my apartment. Then a really nice lady gave me a truck for free. I thought that was pretty neat.
Me: (proud that Casey stuck up for himself) I think that's just wonderful honey. You have had a tough year, it's great that you can find things to be thankful for.
Mom: Well, there is his family, you know.
Me: (thinking, arrrrrgh! I hate this stupid tradition.)
Mom to my hubby: How about you go next?
BJ: I'm thankful for that my dad pulled through the aneurysm last year. I'm thankful that I am still able to spend time with him.
Me: (thinking) me too.
Mom: (to dad) Ok, we'll skip over RisibleGirl for now. You go next.
Dad: (apparently used to the idea that Mom has ideas of what she wants to hear) Now are you wanting us to go all the way back in time like you did, or is it just this year that you want to hear about?
Me: (snickering to herself go dad!)
Dad: Well, I'm thankful that (hubby) is a part of our family now. I've never seen RisibleGirl so happy.
Me: (rubs hubby's leg in total agreement)
Brother #2: (just like the good boy mom raised him to be) I'm thankful for my family and for the church.
Mom: (nodding head in pleasure that Bro2 followed the script)
Mom: Ok RisibleGirl, it's your turn.

I was thinking in my head of all of the things I'm thankful for but couldn't say them because it'd upset my mother that she wasn't on the list somewhere. I was thankful for hubby's wonderful parents, parents that I connect with much more than my own. I am soooooooooooooo thankful for hubby. He is the most amazing man I've ever met. I'm so thankful for my sister; who also happens to be my best friend and soul mate. I'm thankful for my brother's (even the one who follows Mom's script. He can't help it.) I'm thankful for my dad. I'm blessed with two boys that I adore (even though one is a suck up apparently). I have quite a bit to be thankful for. Instead I chose the one unemotional thing I could think of, yet still be honest.

Me: I'm thankful that I still have a job after so many layoffs this year.
Mom: Is that all you're thankful for?
Me: Can we stop now? If we can stop now, then I'll also be thankful that we're done with this.
Mom: pissy for several minutes.

All of the people I thought about during my mini moment of silence know how I feel about them, because I tell them every chance I get. If only my dad knew. I may have to send him that letter after all.

That's a pop culture reference (Seinfeld), in case you're wondering. As much as I try to stay off that pop culture train, I might consider using that phrase several times tomorrow.



My co-worker told me about this t-shirt. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving with my family.

That's all I'm sayin'.