I buckled guys. Remember when I said I was pot committed in my relationship? Well it’s full-blown now. After spending the holidays with each other, visiting both families, and ending up in New York City for New Year’s Eve, our relationship is on the up and up. So much so, that I got caught in the high, invited her parents out for dinner, and asked them for their daughter’s hand in marriage. It all happened so fast, I didn’t know what to do. Now that the dust has settled, I’ve come to realize something: my girlfriend has expensive taste, and I’m clueless when it comes to buying rings or planning a proposal.
Fast forward from the initial dinner with her parents to two Saturdays ago when I took them out to brunch at Gloria’s in Austin. I was peppered with questions just coming at me left and right. “Have you planned how you’re going to propose? When are you going to do it? What about the ring? Do you know what kind of ring she wants?”
Were they trying to scare me off? I looked like a deer in headlights after being bombarded with the avalanche of questions. The only response I could muster was, “I don’t really know.” Wrong answer, bozo. Suddenly, this hour-long brunch I had planned for was about to take a sharp turn towards a day marathon of $2 mimosas and planning. After about my fourth or fifth mimosa, and second round of queso, I had finally started connecting on solid proposal ideas. Things were flowing, ideas were being tossed around, and everything was falling into place. Your boy seemed like he was in total control of the situation.
Then I got to the whole ring situation. What was I going to do about that? I had the help of her mom doing some reconnaissance work, but that wasn’t enough for me. I had to research on my own as well. That meant that I had to get a Pinterest. Good lord was I in for a rude awakening when I scoured her boards. I think I found around 100 different styles of rings on that thing. So I narrowed the list down to five of my favorites (that just coincidentally seemed to be the cheapest designs of them all). I showed them to my mom, her mom, and my buddy’s girlfriend to pick the best. Classic solitaire band, accent diamonds down the side, and a crown holding a princess cut diamond. Simple, yet elegant.
I moved forward with this design, contacted a ring guy, and thought the whole process from here would be a breeze. Of course, it wasn’t. I was met with about 10 different diamond options. Different clarities, colors, and sizes. Do I go size over quality? Quality and sparkle over size? Fuck you, DeBeers, for making men go through this. Great thing about the dude I’m working with is that he sends you a few diamonds to look at, pick one out, and then send them back. He’s trusting, which is what I like in a jeweler.
What kind of story would this be if there wasn’t a last minute turn when I thought I had everything figured out? Sunday rolls around. I’m at a Super Bowl party. She’s out shopping with her mom. They stop into Tiffany’s. She tries on a $300K ring and falls in love. My phone is blowing up with messages from the mom saying that she wouldn’t want a design like the one I had picked out since her friends all had similar ones. She wanted this design. Bruised and mentally beaten by this process already, I called my jeweler, tell him we’re changing things up, and to start looking for cushion cut diamonds with this halo band she’s so enamored with.
Needless to say, I need a vacation from all of this, and I still have a few months to go until I plan to pop the question. Thankfully, I think I finally can say everything is planned, and no more changes will be necessary. .
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