THE LAST FIVE ...

Closing up shop
- Wednesday, Aug. 02, 2006

It may be time for a change
- Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Entry in the air
- Friday, April 21, 2006

Still here
- Thursday, April 20, 2006

Music of the moment
- Wednesday, March 1, 2006

Or ... BE RANDOM!


GOOD READS

101 in 1001
American Road Trip, 1998


OTHER PEOPLE

Chupatintas
Dancing Brave
Fugging It Up
Kitty Sandwich
Mister Zero
Sideways Rain
Ultratart
Velcrometer


THE BASICS

My crew
Latest
Older
Notes
Our host
Profile

Monday, Aug. 30, 2004 - 11:04 p.m.

Best Week Ever

Things started going really well on Tuesday. I met with the leasing agent at the "luxury" apartment complex (the quotation marks aren't for sarcasm, but for their description of the place -- it's an Avalon Community) and there were two units fitting our needs available near our Nov. 1 target date. The two-bedroom has a view of the cemetery and factory out the window, so I think we got one of the lower prices for the two-bedroom units because of the crappy view. But it doesn't bother me. I think a cemetery and factory will be a nice landscape upon which to gaze each day. Hell, it's better than a landfill.

Casey and I decided to take it immediately, and the next day I returned to pick up the paperwork. We signed the lease on Thursday night, then went to my cousin's to see the new baby and have dinner.

Tuesday was also the day my computer arrived. I checked the tracking info and it told me it had been delivered, so I checked with the mail room, and sure enough, it was there. I managed to wait the entire day with it next to my desk and made it home before I opened the box. By Friday I had the digital camera, and today the printer came. Only now it's 80 degrees with 90 percent humidity, and there's no way I'm spending any time in the air-conditionless study at the back of the apartment until, oh, mid-September. That's a lie, because I'll need the printer to print out my fantasy football draft list.

Then on Tuesday or Wednesday, my buddy Matt out in Seattle told me of his impending fatherhood, and I became happy for him and sure that I'm not at that point in my life yet. Not remotely.

Saturday we endured a morning in Easton, PA, awaiting inspection of a car that might be sold by the end of the year, then were late to Jason's softball game-barbecue-poker night, but that wasn't such a bad thing because it was 88 degrees with -- I kid you not -- 100 percent humidity. I sweat just walking from the car over to the field. I got in one at bat, in which my timing was way off and I was ahead of the pitch and therefore tapped it weakly toward the second baseman, but he flubbed it or something and I was safe at first, and later came around to score. I played right-center field (we had, like, 14 players to a side, so in addition to the regular infielders, there were four outfielders, and two extra players playing behind the shortstop and third baseman on the edge of the grass). The one time I touched the ball in play was a high fly ball just onto the grass out beyond the second baseman, and I drifted under it easily and caught it for the third out of the inning. After going so long without playing baseball, it was weird to track a flyball like that again. I'm glad I didn't drop it.

After the barbecue portion, we left because we were tired from the morning and the week and just wanted a quiet, relaxing night in the air conditioning of our apartment.

I slept in Sunday for the first time since I-don't-know-when. It was 10 a.m. before I thought of getting out of bed. We had breakfast and then drove to Newark for the final day of the Springsteen: Troubador of the Highway exhibition at the Newark Museum. Old photographs going back to the 70s and up to 2000 mixed with song lyrics and car and road imagery, not to mention one of his early guitars and a few other artifacts. Several videos played in a curtained-off side room and several things in the gift shop were either half off or two-for-one.

From Newark we went west and south, to Westfield, site of the final scene in the opening credits to Ed and the location of The Pond around which many Stuckeyvillians congregated during the show's four-year run. We'd been there our first weekend together, and once about two months later, but hadn't been back since. It worked out perfectly.

We walked around the lake, my eyes scanning the shore for the perfect spot, someplace with a nice view maybe, or a cooling canopy of trees. Certainly someplace secluded, with no one sitting on a nearby bench. The ring, bought months before and until Friday stored in the safe deposit box at the bank, was in a tiny Ziploc bag in one of the pockets in my shorts, and with Casey on my right, I opened the bag -- still in my pocket -- with my left hand and slipped the ring onto my index finger and up to the first knuckle.

I talked a little about that first weekend together, then pulled the ring from my pocket. I hadn't finished talking when she cried, "YAY!" and snatched it from me, put it on her finger, put her arms around my neck, and kissed me while saying, "Of course I'll marry you!" All that took place in like three seconds.

We sat on an empty bench and looked out at the pond, talking idly and in general terms about plans. Hunger beginning to overcome us, we got up and walked over to The Windmill for lunch, the unfamiliar feeling of a ring on her left hand as I took it in my right. But other than that, it all felt right. Normal. Like the natural next step.

When I picked up the ring in February or March or whenever it was, I had no idea when I'd give it to her. I didn't know when -- or how -- I'd ask her father (I did it in a cell phone call Friday at 5:30 as I stood on the sidewalk outside my office), or if I'd do it with no date in mind or when I'd decided on the date and place. Perceived opportunities to place the phone call earlier in the week fell through, and when Friday morning came, I wasn't sure if I should get the ring out of the bank and have it hidden around the house for what could be an undetermined length of time.

But somehow, I knew I should get it. It didn't feel that big, I wasn't that nervous -- though when I walked out the door of the bank, I felt for a split second like I was in a movie. I pictured myself on the black-and-white security cameras, as if I were being studied by detectives trying to ID the potential suspect in some crime. I guess that's when I saw it as a somewhat pivotal moment in my life.

All weekend, unable to tell anyone what I was planning -- and not wanting to -- I just kept thinking about how right it felt. It was time. I always figured I'd know when it was, and I knew. In quiet moments, I thought about what I might say Sunday, how I might do it. I used a little of it, but otherwise it was short and sweet and done in less than a minute. Nothing showy, which is how we like it.

Honestly, I'm not big on having attention showered upon me. I like a little pat on the back every now and then, a small bit of praise, but to be the focus of this much attention is a little unnerving at the moment. It'll ease a bit in a few more days, and after this weekend -- the first seeing mom and dad -- hopefully things can go back to "normal" a bit. We've got about 13 months until our ideal date, and the planning will turn that spotlight back on from time to time. I'll be excited for The Day, save for those 20 minutes I have to stand up there in a tuxedo with dozens of eyes trained on me (solely on me for a few minutes, until Casey comes out, then -- thankfully -- anyone in their right mind will be focusing on her). But after a lovely, succinct ceremony, we'll get to party, and then continue on with our lives.

Others can have the attention, I'm happy to relinquish it. Heck, even today I tried to talk down a co-worker who enthusiastically mentioned to a few other people that my birthday is Thursday -- while we stood in the conference room with two cakes on the table for two others whose birthdays fell over the weekend. I almost wanted to blurt out there that I'd gotten engaged yesterday, just so I could get it all over with at once. By the time I left the office around 7, I still hadn't mentioned it to anyone.

Why? No one asked me what I did over the weekend.

Previous page: Pictures from the Penobscot
Next page: Two in one: Happy Birthday to me and Let's Go Irish!

� 1998-2004 DC Products. All rights reserved.

Yeah, sorry I have to be all legal on you here, but unless otherwise indicated, all that you read here is mine, mine, mine. But feel free to quote me or make fun of me or borrow what I write and send it out as an e-mail forward to all your friends, family and coworkers. Just don't say it's yours, you know?