A Knot is to be Tied

Mallory here and Justin and I are very excited to let everyone know that, as of St. Patrick's Day, we are ENGAGED! We've already received overwhelming support from our friends and family and feel so blessed and loved by all the wonderful, caring people in our lives. For all those wonderful, caring people in our lives that we don't get to see regularly, I thought I'd go ahead and share how it all went down.

DISCLAIMER: We will soon be back to our regularly scheduled blogging. Not to worry, Have You Been There will NOT turn into a wedding blog.  (We'll reserve blog posts for only the most exciting of wedding details. Promise.)

Unbeknownst to me, it all started about a month ago when Justin decided he was ready to take the plunge (a.k.a. buy the ring). In a tornado. The last I had spoken to him that stormy day, we had decided he would come over to my house after work. As I was leaving, I called a gazillion times to no avail and decided he'd been sucked up by a tornado and was somewhere between here and Oz by now. I was just beginning the process of mourning the sudden loss of my boyfriend when he finally answered the phone. He told me he'd ended up driving around (in. a. tornado!) while he was waiting for me and didn't hear his phone ring. Convenient, huh?

Being the traditional Southerners that we are, the next step was to talk to my dad. From what I understand his answer was more or less, "of course." Justin was feeling good, and my mom was stocking up on bridal magazines. I was clueless.

About three weeks later it was game time. St. Patrick's Day happened to coincide with the date of the ring's arrival and Justin (being the adorable six year old that he is) could. not. wait. This time, however, it was my turn to not answer the phone. I wasn't out buying myself an engagement ring in a tornado, but I was at work learning a new task. I returned to my desk to find five missed calls from him. I called him back. "I'msosorry!Areyoureadytogotolunch?"  "It's ok," he answered patiently, "I'll pick you up." I ran downstairs, hopped in his car and began thinking about the amazing peanut butter and jelly english muffin sandwich I was going to make when we got to my apartment for lunch.

I whipped out my phone to play my newly rediscovered Words With Friends app. I looked up from trying to figure out whether "dag" would pass as a word to see that we had passed the street that heads to my apartment. When I asked where we were going (assuming he had gotten distracted by the sight of a plane or dog (as he is known to do) and missed the turn) and he ever so nonchalantly replied that we were going downtown. Like, "oh no big deal" like, "oh you know, downtown" like, "la la la." It was definitely nothing like "we're going downtown to get engaged." I way fooled.

Normally at this point in the car ride the "What do you want?"/ "I don't know, what do you want?" conversation would ensue, however this time I was not asked what I wanted. I was being taken somewhere. This should have set off a red flag, but by this time I was thinking about the letter I was going to write to Mr. Words With Friends explaining how "dag" is in fact a word and where are my six points? We found a spot and parked and I headed left in the direction of the restaurants and he grabbed my hand and headed right in the direction of... the river?

Again I asked where we were going and again he cooly convinced me nothing was up, even though it should have been absolutely clear that something was. I tried not to think about it. He took me to the bridge, walked me out to the middle, did the whole "kneeling and proposing thing" and I boohooed. Like, he took a photo right afterwards that I'm not even going to include because bawling is a very unflattering look on me. The rest is history. That is if history is defined as "frantically trying to find a venue, set a date, decide who to invite and where to register." I'm not sure, I'll have to ask Mr. Words With Friends...

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