Which is another way of saying… I’m engaged! JB has decided that there is permanent room in his life for college football, golf, and ME!
Upon arriving home from work last Friday, he presented me with a Romero Britto figurine I fell in love with back in December when we visited Miami. And when I realized what it was and turned around, there he was, one knee and all. It was romantic, perfect and surreal.
Fast-forward through the celebratory weekend and wedding planning is in full effect. All my mom and sister needed was the green light of an actual proposal and it was game on.
Part of this journey includes getting contact lenses. I get all Rachel Green (I have actually had this exact experience with a glaucoma machine) when it comes to my optical organ. While I am grateful for my sight and everything, I think eyes — and all their affiliated lids, balls, retinas, etc. — are disgusting. I can’t even watch people fiddle with their contacts, much less handle them in my own eyes.
So I have chosen a life of spectacles. And I love them. They are me, and I barely remember a time when I didn’t wear them. People mistake me for intellectual and this engagement only proves the naysayers wrong — boys most definitely do make passes at girls who wear glasses.
But I have always said the only event that could inspire me to stick plastic in my eyes and then remove it every night (I’m honestly shuddering thinking about this) was my wedding. Yes, I want to be “me” at my wedding, but there’s something about a gorgeous wedding gown paired with black-rimmed glasses that just isn’t festive. Let’s face it, there is only one person who could pull that look off and I envy her.
Unfortunately, my sight has deteriorated enough that I can’t get by without some type of visual aide. JB and his brother look strikingly similar and it’s best that any potential for awkward moments is avoided.
So soon I will go to the optometrist, freak out, and start trying to reconcile my relationship with my eyes so I can be totally comfortable on my wedding day with the foreign circular objects floating in my eyes.
After the engagement on Friday night, on our way to dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, JB and I looked at each other and told each other to hold on to the absolute joy we were feeling at that moment. For a brief time, it was all about us. Soon enough, the madness would begin.
But I have made some promises to myself. I will attempt to keep perspective. I will remember that venue, band and flowers are not as important as JB, family and friends. I will keep a picture of me and my mom smiling and laughing nearby (as reminders of happier times in our relationship might be necessary). I will not turn this into a wedding blog.
And when I get stressed choosing cake toppers, I will remember that of all the questions I will be asking and will be asked throughout this process, the most important one has already been answered.
Balance Overload 