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Burying the Lead

Today's Headline: [My] Baby Charms Starbucks by Ordering Soy Decaf Latte

I'm not really sure there's an article here. It's just that it's only 9:17 and pretty much all that's happened today is Ayana ordering and drinking her usual at the Bucks--a Soy Decaf Latte. A few people usually think that's pretty cute, but today it was like the whole coffee shop wanted to throw a parade in her honor. She drank it all without spilling any on herself, and that almost is a headline.



This Week's Headline: Warrior Way on Lockdown for 12 Hours

There is an article here. There's a lot of them, actually, so I'm not going to reinvent the wheel. Type Centaurus High School in to Google or Bing or that ancient search engine with the dog--remember that?--and you'll read about a boy and his bomb. This boy and this bomb, unfortunately, turned up at the high school seven feet from my house on Monday. No students were hurt, the boy is in custody, and the FBI & AFT have stopped camping out on my lawn. Nothing but good news. But. Ayana and I spent a whole day on lockdown with cable and Internet access cut off. We were both uninformed and without Dora. That's not a terrorist act, per se; but maybe we could lock that sixteen-year-old horror story up with my two-year-old for twelve hours to kick off his punishment.



This Month's Headline: Boy Proposes to Girl, Girl Dips Boy in Chocolate

And now the title of the blog makes sense, doesn't it? Because, of course, I'm that girl, Eric's that boy, and that chocolate was fondue, so dipping was expected.

I know, I know. We've hardly even talked about him--wasn't he just my social life a few posts ago? I hate to admit this; really, I do. But he was my fiance then too, I just hadn't figured out how to tell you. The truth is, it's been almost a month since my hunky fireman put a ring on it. Locked it down. Took the plunge. Have we hit the necessary cliches? I think yes. It's been almost a month and I'm just now working up the nerve to share this life change with the general public.



Are you mad? Please don't be. It's not you, it's me. Contrary to what you might be led to believe by my willingness to blog, I'm not much of a sharer. At least not in a way that makes any sense to, oh, anyone. You might remember finding out about my divorce via a relationship status change on Facebook. Yeah. You and everyone else--from my best friend to my very own mother. And you were floored when I admitted to you it was because my ex was, um, not the congenial, beer-peddling, smiley face he always appeared to be in the pictures.

I don't want to think of myself as a liar, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit I'm cagey. I play things close to the vest--always have. But my friends are starting to call me on it. I'm happy--deliriously so, if I'm being honest. So what's to hide? I have been in love with Eric since we snuck into the basement of the middle school to kiss in 8th grade. Loving someone doesn't mean you can be with that someone, and our time to be together didn't start until six months ago. But as he likes to say, our time is now. And we're going to enjoy it. celebrate it. treasure it.

So please, celebrate with us. Not at a wedding, of course. Who wants one of those? Oh. Stupid Eric, that's who. He probably wants to release pigeons and stuff cake in each other's faces too, but he's in for a surprise there. I don't eat cake. Maybe I could shove a pigeon in his face?


Comments

  1. Jamie ReedMay 15, 2013 at 8:18 PM

    Congratulations! Wishing you an overflowing abundance of happiness!

    ReplyDelete

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