This past week was a whirlwind, marked first and foremost by
the date I have been dreading for years - my 32nd birthday on
September 6th. For whatever reason, 32
was my scary age: it could have been
because it marks 10 years out of college and in theory my life should be in order
OR for better or worse, 2012 was the year my passport expired and deep down I
had always figured I would be renewing it with a new last name. Needless to say, I was not looking forward to
it. September 6th also marked my one year anniversary
with my “new” job.
And more important than anything else, September 6th
was the day Martin proposed! After 4
years of dating, an international relationship and a newly renovated house,
Martin asked me the one question I had not expected on my birthday – will you
marry me?
To tell the story properly, you must understand that three
and a half years ago I came home from a girl’s weekend in Venice to find a red
rose in a Coors Light bottle on my dining room table and a note saying “I love
you, there are more in the fridge”.
It might not seem like a lot, but Coors Lights are
incredibly hard to find in Zurich and ridiculously overpriced. I was beyond hope of falling in love; I was
all in. And so on my 32nd birthday,
after a quick joke of not having any plans, Martin took me into our new
kitchen, set me on the counter and asked me the question I had wanted to hear
since coming home from Venice. And to
make things even more perfect, I was presented with the following:
It was absolutely perfect and absolutely us.
We were able to enjoy the rest of the evening in pre-wedding
bliss (after a call to the parents - they had been eagerly awaiting the news since
Martin left earlier that day with their blessing) and then celebrated with all
of our friends that Saturday at our housewarming party.
Let the planning begin!
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