Tomorrow I'm coming out of hiding. I'm going to go meet other bloggers and find out how this blogging thing works. How I can see if anyone is reading my drivel. How to make sure my drivel is read. See what inspires others to blog. A quick glance at the blogs of the bloggers inscribed to attend, and they all have something to sell. Saving the environment, justifying Segolene, promoting a film script, making folk back home jealous of the ex-pat lifetsyle. They all seem much more technologically savvy than me. But then that wouldn't be hard.
Still there is more to life than blogging. Like getting engaged. Yes really. I still can't believe it.
Sunday, driving to the airport, went something like this.
D (removing a ring he had given me from my middle finger): why don't you get the jeweller to make this smaller to fit here (placing on wedding finger)
E (joking) Are you asking me to marry you?
D Well I thought we had already agreed that
E (shocked) is this a proposal?
D Che?
E You are asking me to marry you?
D You don't want?
E Yes, but you have to ask me in a way that I have a story to tell my girlfriends.
Later, the sun set in an obligingly romantic-ish fashion as we stood outside the airport munching sandwiches and watching D's car, parked in the quick drop space, to make sure he doesn't get a ticket.
D Emma, will you be my fiance?
E Yes
1 comment:
Emma
Sorry I didn't meet you tonight -- I was at l'Entrepot for a while with les fellow Blogueurs.
I started getting teary just readin g about your proposal, but I'm an old sap from way back.
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