The Day My Heart Peed a Little

On December 19th, the day after my birthday, I was the happiest and luckiest girl in the world.  Not only had I just turned 25 and entered the world of lower car insurance rates, but my boyfriend and the love of my life (same guy, of course) proposed to me in the most thoughtful and personal gesture that I ever could have imagined.  It was intimate, well-planned, and indicative of our relationship together.  I was surprised and overwhelmed with the magnitude of it all; to put it crudely, my heart peed a little in excitement.

If you would indulge me, I would like to briefly paint a word picture of that day, as it is a beautiful story and several people do not understand why we are standing by a building under construction in our pictures (yes, there are pictures of this moment!  How awesome is that?!)  Also, I have only allowed myself short, infrequent bursts of "engagement craze" because I do not want to bring about the pained eye rolls I have witnessed (and experienced) during other ladies' bride-to-be gabbing.

About a week before the proposal, Keith called me to tell me that he had planned my "birthday present."  In months past, I had told him that I really wanted to dress nicely and take pictures together at our favorite spot on Texas A&M University's campus: the place where we met and began our friendship-turned-everlasting-love, the steps of the Harrington Education Center.  While we were at it, I said, I wanted to take pictures and walk under the famed Century Tree, popular as a place to proclaim your undying love for your significant other.

In all my attempts to take these pictures, Keith stood firm in his denial, either because he had eaten a huge lunch or because he would rather us go to the Chicken for a game of dominoes or because he hated taking lovey-dovey photos.  In short, I thought those pictures would never happen.  However, when Keith called me the week before my birthday saying he would take those pictures with me and frame a couple of them for my present, I was pretty ecstatic.  He suggested we ask my sister to take the pictures, mostly because he didn't want to be noticeably uncomfortable in front of a less-familiar friend.  Jessica happily accepted, and she and I had a very short and vague discussion about how all of this sounded "almost too romantic for a birthday present."  Being the hopeless romantic that I can sometimes be, I fought to disregard any notion of something more than a photography session with my boyfriend and sister so as not to get my girlish hopes up.

On the morning of the 19th, Keith and I had some Christmas shopping to take care of first thing, and I sneakily watched him throughout the shopping trip.  Aside from glancing on his watch to make sure we were "on schedule" for our 4 pm pictures, Keith was cool and calm and a far cry from a guy about to ask someone to marry him.  I was convinced; I had let my imagination run away a bit, and the afternoon would simply be taking some beautiful pictures and nothing more.  Which was fine, because it was still something that I really wanted and would appreciate.

At 4 pm, Jessica, Keith and I parked on the edge of campus and started to walk toward the Century Tree, Jessica snapping pictures along the way.

Keith: Romance Ninja

As we got to the Century Tree, we took a couple of sweet shots, much to Keith's embarrassment and at the expense of his "street cred."  When we decided to move from the tree to the steps of Harrington, I had officially abandoned all expectations beyond a couple of good photos.

At the steps, we struck a few good poses, and Keith laid out his bandanna for me to sit on, given the drizzly weather.  After a few minutes of pictures and smiles, Keith asked Jessica, "Is this a good shot?"  When Jessica affirmed that the images looked good, I remember Keith saying something like, "Well let's try a different pose."

In a fluid motion, I watched Keith pull a flash of gold out of his jacket and take a one-knee stance next to me.  I remember him asking, "Will you marry me?" and looking at the beautiful ring in his hand, feeling like my heart was leaping out of my chest, like a romantic version of Alien, but with overpowering feelings of love instead of an infant monster.  I took the ring; it was perfect, just what I had fantasized about, with a yellow gold band and three-stone princess cut setting (that's right, gals.)  I slipped it onto my finger, then remember thinking, "Oh, I need to give him an answer!"  My smiles and tears and head nodding wouldn't suffice.

One thing about me: I'm a red-faced crier, and for some reason I always try to hold it in, which makes my throat burn.  It's weird.  So in that moment, as I was fighting inevitable tears of joy, the best thing I could squeak out was, "Yeah!"  Crap!  You can't say "Yeah" to a wedding proposal!  Composing myself, I corrected with, "Yes, thank you!"

Cue the kissing, laughter, more crying, and Keith looking quite proud of himself.  My sister was able to capture some great reaction shots through her own tears, as well.

Keith Franklin: The Best at True Love

After the initial shock wore off, Keith showed me that he had put an inscription inside the band:

Para siempre. -Keith

(Forever)

Gosh, what a freaking prince, right?  From the proposal, Keith informed us that our friend Tobin, who really deserves significant credit for helping Keith and I get our relationship off the ground, was at the Chicken and did not know of Keith's engagement plans.  We hurried across the street to share the good news with him, and as I rounded the corner of the bar, I was surprised once again with about 20 of our friends, anxious with excitement and ready to yell out, "Congratulations!"  Apparently, Keith had told several of our buds well ahead of time and coordinated a surprise engagement party for me immediately after popping the question.  Awesome, totally awesome.

What followed was a truly wonderful time spent with near and dear friends sharing in Keith's and my happiness, made even better by the free Wedding Cake shot I received.  I'd like to say that we closed the Chicken down with our festivities, but the truth is, after buying them out of Miller High Life (which no one even thought was a possibility), the Chicken closed us down......at 8:30.  The horseplay may have also had something to do with it, but I guess that made the occasion "Classic Keith & Tiffany."

To everyone that has already wished us well, we truly appreciate it from the bottom of our hearts.  Being a person that doesn't always indulge her feminine side, it's been a real treat to share in some serious girly discussion with other chicks, and of course I am very blessed to begin this new chapter in my life with someone like Keith by my side.

There have been several questions since our big announcement, like if we have set a date (not yet, that's a little scary and we are in school for the next year and a half), where are we planning to have the wedding (College Station is central for our families and most of our friends), and if I would be interested in a bachelorette party in Vegas (uh, why do you think I said yes?!)  But for now, we are tucking into a nice long engagement and I am just enjoying Googling wedding images and surfing the web for venues and flowers with my sister.  I have also vowed to not turn into "Bride Tiffany," which is the version of Tiffany that only talks about her wedding/engagement/catering/colors to friends and victims.  Unless, of course, somebody asks.

Happy Birthday, Jessica!

Since my last post, a plethora of blessings and adventures have fallen into my life, and I assure you I will try to get to each and every one of them, if not on this blog than in my daily prayers of thanksgiving.  However, today marks a special day for me that I would like to address first and foremost: it is my sister's (a.k.a. my built-in best buddy) birthday today.  Jessica is one year older, and as you can read at Blog and JAM, ready to make 2012 the best year of her life.

JAM herself

Jessica has always been a fixture in my life as an older sister and a source of advice, comfort, and friendship throughout my trip on this big blue marble.  Being the eldest, Jessica pioneered out into life, the first to enter high school, to enter college, to go to a job interview, and the first to drive 90 mph in a 60 trying to haul our tardy butts to Parliamentary Procedure practice.  I have been very fortunate to learn from Jessica's leadership and exploration, especially since she succeeded at nearly every endeavor with seemingly effortless grace and poise.  I know for a fact that the only reason I was ever able to accurately fill out a FAFSA application was because Jessica had already completed that tasks weeks before with our family income information.

Aside from a teacher, Jessica is a very empathetic soul who can easily pick up on my fluctuations in mood and temper.  A prime example of this quality occurred when Jessica and I were in 7th and 5th grade, respectively.

For those who did not know Jessica and me in middle and high school, we were not always the Best Friends Forever duo that we are today.  During the delicate, hormonally-imbalanced years spanning from 5th to 9th grade, Jessica and I were a seesaw of emotions.  A seesaw in a vortex machine.  In the burning center of a shooting star traveling at speeds beyond our comprehension.  We were classic teens thrown at the mercy of our own changing bodies and chemical makeup.  If we weren't in the middle of a screaming match over me using Jessica's makeup or her "borrowing" a shirt of mine, we were fiercely laughing and joking around with each other at a friend's house or cruising through our neighborhood (it was a small town, guys; we didn't have many options in the way of entertainment).

As I was saying, Jess and I were in 7th and 5th grade.  One day, I sat in my math class waiting for the lecture to begin, and a young bully that we'll call Sam (hah!  His name really was Sam!) decided to pick a little fun at me.  He announced to the class that my face looked like my mother had an affair with Mr. Ed the horse.  Two points to note here: 1) Sam and I had just ended a brief 2-week relationship, so naturally we were both embittered towards each other, and 2) Nice, Sam, real original.  Unlucky for you, everyone else in the whole wide world had already seen The Nutty Professor, so we know that you didn't make that joke up yourself.  Turd.

Now, in hindsight I should have shrugged this nasty little joke off as a little punk kid making the most of our classroom time with the teacher out of earshot, however my mother was at that moment not making it with a barnyard animal but in the hospital recuperating from an unplanned medical procedure, and I was sensitive.  I somehow managed to hold my tears in throughout the class period, but when everyone bustled to the cafeteria for lunch, I remained distraught over this bestiality comment at my expense.  As I waited in line, I saw my sister walk in with one of her friends, and through that magical, sisterly connection that we have, she immediately looked my way and locked eyes with me across the room.  Granted, I'm a heart on my sleeve kind of person, but when Jessica saw my face, she knew something was up.  She and her friend double-timed it over to my spot in line, and I remember her asking fervently, "What's wrong, Tiff?"  Her compassion, as well as the fact that she was an older, cooler kid openly talking to me in a group of young, nerdy middle-schoolers, sent my emotions into double time.

I started crying, barely managing to squeak out what Sam had said, along with, "And Jessica, Mom doesn't deserve that right now!  She doesn't deserve it!" (blubber, sniffle)  After rubbing my arm reassuringly, Jessica looked up and down the lunch line, zeroing in on Sam standing about 5 or 6 spots ahead of me.  Without another word to me, Jessica marched up to Sam, towering over him by about 10 inches, and asked him in a stern voice, "Hey!  What is this I hear about you talking sh*t to my sister?"

Sam's eyes widened in shock and fear, because aside from being one of the most coveted girls at our middle school, in this moment, Jessica was terrifying.  I watched Sam stutter and sputter, denying any involvement in my shattered emotions.  After listening to him stammer for a few seconds, Jessica looked at him with a menacing glare and told him, "Good, because if I hear you say anything to her again, I'll kick your ass."  Then with a flick of her blonde hair and a sneer on her lips that would have made Elvis shudder in his golden jumpsuit, she walked away from him, leaving him in utter embarrassment among his little turdy friends.  Needless to say, nobody was making horse sex jokes on my account after that verbal spanking.

Jessica: Champion Sister & BAMF

Of course, this story is not indicative of Jessica's everyday mannerisms, but it is a cherished memory of the bond we have with each other.  Nobody but my sister would have willingly humiliated a youngster with swear words and threats at that point in my life.  Jessica loves boldly and is a faithful and loyal friend to others, and I am both blessed and thrilled to have her in my life.  That is why I chose to honor her special day today with the story of her threatening to beat up a kid for his lewd suggestions about my mother's mating preferences.

Happy birthday, Jessica!  And a very awesome 2012 to everyone!

Stay tuned-I have one more week of freedom before school starts; I intend to blow up my own personal section of the blogosphere until then.