While we all have stories of our engagement, and we are always being asked questions like, "how did you meet?", "how did you get engaged?". This is an area that I feel needs to be written into some sort of a journal for things that don't happen on a daily basis.
With that being said i will embark on a journey through time and bring all of you loyal readers back to enjoy this moment with me as I relive what most would call a disaster.
It is May of 2006 and I am with Fabi and her family at their house in the Hamptons. I had just purchased the ring I would bestow to my sweetheart and make her my wife. With the eagerness of a 3 year old at Chuckie Cheese, I couldn't help but display the ring to her entire family regardless of the fact that Fabi was there as well. While this will later prove to be a feeble minded move on my part, the family was full of oohs and ahhs with the mere thought of their daughter being engaged.
I will take a step back now to about a month prior. I had informed her parents of my decision and with their blessing i would ask their daughter to be my wife. With sweat on my brow, I waited for a response and was elated to find no quandary from them what so ever. As the smiles emerged and the hugs were in plenty, I now had sought her mothers advice on a ring size suitable for the bride to be. In the midst of excitement and celebration I must have misunderstood, and with my vast experience in ring buying, I was none the wiser.
Bringing us back to the Hamptons, my time as a stealthy ring flasher was just about to conclude. Picture a huddle of onlookers in the yard off to the side of the house all peering in to catch a glimpse of the ring that signified my love for Fabi, when out of nowhere, Fabi is marching over to see what all the ruckus is about. To my dismay, or perhaps relief, she was onto us and the charade was over. With this on the brink of being a total disaster I did the only thing I could to save grace, I decided today was the day.
I assembled her family inside to the dining room and made a mock fight with her step father to create a reason for the gathering.
After the question was popped, and acceptance was granted, the ring was exchanged and she pushed like the dickens to get it on. "POP" It was on. I knew it looked tight and she knew it as well, but after putting it on for the first time she would be damned if she would be taking it off today. As the evening went on and her finger swelled, we knew action had to be taken so we left and headed to my parent house. My aunt and uncle from Boston were there and being doctors I hoped they had some miraculous plan to remove the ring from the now ballooned finger. To my dismay, this turned out to be of no avail so off to the ER we went.
When the doctor finished sawing off the ring which was meant to last an eternity, he began to pry open the ring. In what seemed like an instant the ring erupted in what looked like a volcanic eruption of diamonds. Turns out pave stones do not fortify the ring but in turn weaken its structural integrity. So with diamonds all over the ER and what now was three pieces of gold which was once a ring, we were sent on our way and were now engaged with no visual proof but a zip lock bag with shining shards in it.
My jeweler looked at me like i had somehow done this on purpose. While we exasperated all avenues to put this significant loop of gold together, our efforts were thwarted by the delicate process of remaking a pave setting.
After several attempts to make this whole again, we decided to start over and purchased a new ring, the right size of course, and began to show off our engagement visually as well as mentally.
Note to self; Make sure you have the correct information for sizing a ring, and also when it does not fit, don't force it.
In summation, we are happily married and this proved to be a blessing in disguise. She got a nicer ring second time around.
Till next time!!!!!
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
What a Wiener!!!
From the title alone I can only assume that you are reading this due to some perverse notion that I was writing about something other than my dog. While you sigh in disappointment and decide whether to read on without the mere mention of a male genitalia, I will let you know this is all about my dog Charlie, the miniature daschund.
When looking for a dog we all search high and low for the breed that will satisfy all the requirements of any young couple preparing to begin having children. While we did to the best of our ability, every breeder or pet shop failed to mention the ever so important piece of information, that the dog is impervious to most house training methods. As any new pet owner, we smirk and almost smile when he goes "sissy", or "poops" in the house, just thinking that this is all a part of raising a puppy and he looks so adorable no matter what crass gift he has left.
With that being said, I will now invite you all to hear of the progress, or lack there of, that Charlie has made.
Lets fast forward now to about one year of age. With the hundred stains all over the hallway carpet it was difficult to spot new marking unless they were fresh, within an hour. The only one that was obvious was poop. For such a small dog you wouldn't believe what he can create back there. So barring a few minor incidences, Charlie was what we had considered to be a well trained dog that due to our work schedule, could not be too blame.
That theory would soon be proved to be a farce.
So as I bring you up to speed I want to tell you what a wonderful dog Charlie is. He has not one mean bone in his body and he is always a pleasure to have around. When people are around him he brings joy out in everyone. Picture it, a stout long dog that weighs 14 pounds and stands 3 inches off the ground. Not to mention the fact that he has an obsession with licking and will lick the skin off your face if you gave him the chance.
Moving on to the reason that I impart this story for all to read. Charlie is over a year and a half old and as of late he is regressing on his training. As you may or may not know, Fabi and I bought a house this month and as we pack up everything it is apparent that something is amiss in the apartment. I think the dog can feel it and Cody the cat is definitely showing signs that he noticed as well. I can come to this rational assumption because as I step over and around boxes and other items, I notice new stains that weren't there before we started to pack. And if that was not enough of a blatant clue, as I left for work the other night, I was greeted at the door while putting on my shoes with a stool sample that I could have done without.
In retrospect, I think we would have done a better job with this or the dog himself may have succumb to the training if we were not in the apartment. Now, we have a yard and a fence so he can be left out to roam and do his business for more than 5 minutes, and more frequently than he had in the past.
I try not to chalk this up to just being the most ill behaved dog in the world, and I will give him the benefit of the doubt and say it is a product of his environment or lack there of.
So stay tuned to find out what lies ahead for us and the wicked wiener.............
C'ya
When looking for a dog we all search high and low for the breed that will satisfy all the requirements of any young couple preparing to begin having children. While we did to the best of our ability, every breeder or pet shop failed to mention the ever so important piece of information, that the dog is impervious to most house training methods. As any new pet owner, we smirk and almost smile when he goes "sissy", or "poops" in the house, just thinking that this is all a part of raising a puppy and he looks so adorable no matter what crass gift he has left.
With that being said, I will now invite you all to hear of the progress, or lack there of, that Charlie has made.
Lets fast forward now to about one year of age. With the hundred stains all over the hallway carpet it was difficult to spot new marking unless they were fresh, within an hour. The only one that was obvious was poop. For such a small dog you wouldn't believe what he can create back there. So barring a few minor incidences, Charlie was what we had considered to be a well trained dog that due to our work schedule, could not be too blame.
That theory would soon be proved to be a farce.
So as I bring you up to speed I want to tell you what a wonderful dog Charlie is. He has not one mean bone in his body and he is always a pleasure to have around. When people are around him he brings joy out in everyone. Picture it, a stout long dog that weighs 14 pounds and stands 3 inches off the ground. Not to mention the fact that he has an obsession with licking and will lick the skin off your face if you gave him the chance.
Moving on to the reason that I impart this story for all to read. Charlie is over a year and a half old and as of late he is regressing on his training. As you may or may not know, Fabi and I bought a house this month and as we pack up everything it is apparent that something is amiss in the apartment. I think the dog can feel it and Cody the cat is definitely showing signs that he noticed as well. I can come to this rational assumption because as I step over and around boxes and other items, I notice new stains that weren't there before we started to pack. And if that was not enough of a blatant clue, as I left for work the other night, I was greeted at the door while putting on my shoes with a stool sample that I could have done without.
In retrospect, I think we would have done a better job with this or the dog himself may have succumb to the training if we were not in the apartment. Now, we have a yard and a fence so he can be left out to roam and do his business for more than 5 minutes, and more frequently than he had in the past.
I try not to chalk this up to just being the most ill behaved dog in the world, and I will give him the benefit of the doubt and say it is a product of his environment or lack there of.
So stay tuned to find out what lies ahead for us and the wicked wiener.............
C'ya
Monday, November 10, 2008
Couch Potato....
This will tickle the interest of any fun loving, lazy, and champion television buff. Whether married, single, divorced, or undecided, all of us television freaks can never get enough of this ancient distraction of life.
With that being said, I will try and divulge as much as I can about my wife's vexation with me and the bright illuminating device that hangs on the wall.
Hi, my name is Alan, I am 30 years old, and I'm a Tube-aholic.
It all began when I was younger and the TVs were bigger than most ovens. They involved the ever so illustrious rabbit ears for reception, tuning knobs that took two hands to turn, and big remote with four buttons on it. We would all gather around it on certain days of the week when shows like cheers and night rider were big. You never got to pick what to watch because of all the rooms in the house, this was the only one that got "cable". As the family would all gather to watch television, I slowly but surely moved my way up the ladder of remote command status.
By the time I was getting into my teens and everyone had their own TVs, I had a laundry list of programs that I watched. Being that I was still in school the programs were limited to what days they were on and at what time they aired. As my schedule freed up over the years, the list of shows grew longer.
I have noticed that no matter where I go and for whatever the occasion, I always manage to sneak in a few minutes of that forbidden visual delicacy.
With the invention and wide spread use of TIVO, I have only seen this obsession grow deeper. Now I feel like I need television to go to sleep, television to wake up, and more television to stay awake. Don't get me wrong, I do have other hobbies that I enjoy but this is the only habitual one.
This is where the wife comes in.
When she comes home I seem to always be on the couch watching, as I describe as, "the last five minutes of a movie!", or "the last 2 seconds of a show I tivo'ed!". Then for the rest of the evening I ask her if she is ready to watch some TV, as we have thirty shows set to TIVO during the week. I have to constantly remind her that the seasons are almost over and we have the entire off season to "hang out". We are working on this together!
So now that I have told you all of my dilemma, you can rest easy now knowing that you are not alone. There are many of us brain cell killing TV junkies out there just waiting for that new exciting program to add to our ever growing list of drool inducing shows!
Til next time......
With that being said, I will try and divulge as much as I can about my wife's vexation with me and the bright illuminating device that hangs on the wall.
Hi, my name is Alan, I am 30 years old, and I'm a Tube-aholic.
It all began when I was younger and the TVs were bigger than most ovens. They involved the ever so illustrious rabbit ears for reception, tuning knobs that took two hands to turn, and big remote with four buttons on it. We would all gather around it on certain days of the week when shows like cheers and night rider were big. You never got to pick what to watch because of all the rooms in the house, this was the only one that got "cable". As the family would all gather to watch television, I slowly but surely moved my way up the ladder of remote command status.
By the time I was getting into my teens and everyone had their own TVs, I had a laundry list of programs that I watched. Being that I was still in school the programs were limited to what days they were on and at what time they aired. As my schedule freed up over the years, the list of shows grew longer.
I have noticed that no matter where I go and for whatever the occasion, I always manage to sneak in a few minutes of that forbidden visual delicacy.
With the invention and wide spread use of TIVO, I have only seen this obsession grow deeper. Now I feel like I need television to go to sleep, television to wake up, and more television to stay awake. Don't get me wrong, I do have other hobbies that I enjoy but this is the only habitual one.
This is where the wife comes in.
When she comes home I seem to always be on the couch watching, as I describe as, "the last five minutes of a movie!", or "the last 2 seconds of a show I tivo'ed!". Then for the rest of the evening I ask her if she is ready to watch some TV, as we have thirty shows set to TIVO during the week. I have to constantly remind her that the seasons are almost over and we have the entire off season to "hang out". We are working on this together!
So now that I have told you all of my dilemma, you can rest easy now knowing that you are not alone. There are many of us brain cell killing TV junkies out there just waiting for that new exciting program to add to our ever growing list of drool inducing shows!
Til next time......
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Midnights
If I have gained one tidbit of knowledge about the midnight shift, it is that sleep deprivation messes with your perception of reality.
With that being said, I will go into a slightly embarrassing, but unfortunately true story of a misinterpretation of a news broadcast. With the excitement of the 2008 election i felt compelled to watch CNN at 8am after just working eight hours overnight. As a registered democrat I found interest in Barack Obama casting his vote while the peering eyes of the camera man were capturing his every move. Keeping in mind that I have been up now for almost an entire twenty four hour period I hear the news man say something about a new optical voting system. In the midst of this newscast I nod off for what could not have been more than a minute or two when the phones rings.
As I answer the phone, the previous notion of an optical vote somehow mutates into ocular voting and the skewed perception begins. With the confidence of an Italian supermodel, I provoke a conversation with my wife about the technological advances of 2008. Whilst in a state of comatose, I divulged my thoughts on the ability to gain a vote by somehow reading the retinas of a person, and this all made sense to me at the time. Without questioning me on this obviously fallacious invention, she did the most understanding thing and got me off the phone so i could resume my trance like state and eventual shut eye.
It is now 4pm and she is waiting for me to get out of bed so we can go and vote. A few minutes pass and I am scrambling around for my stuff so we can leave. In the car she brings up this heinous invention I so boldly spoke about earlier. As the story is retorted to me I can barely hold back the chuckles as I shrivel into my seat like a frightened turtle, or a male organ exposed to the chill of an unheated pool.
This all can be attributed to one thing, sleep deprivation. If anyone has ever worked from midnight til 8am, they can attest to the mind melting that occurs. Things are so distorted from lack of sleep that you start believe things that are obviously not there.
As there is no recourse for me at this point because I was so sure this was really going on, and Fabi got such a kick out of this. I have a suspicion that this story will be in the vault for the occasional reprisal for group humor.
To end this 4:54am rant of mental collapse, DON'T WORK MIDS'.......
With that being said, I will go into a slightly embarrassing, but unfortunately true story of a misinterpretation of a news broadcast. With the excitement of the 2008 election i felt compelled to watch CNN at 8am after just working eight hours overnight. As a registered democrat I found interest in Barack Obama casting his vote while the peering eyes of the camera man were capturing his every move. Keeping in mind that I have been up now for almost an entire twenty four hour period I hear the news man say something about a new optical voting system. In the midst of this newscast I nod off for what could not have been more than a minute or two when the phones rings.
As I answer the phone, the previous notion of an optical vote somehow mutates into ocular voting and the skewed perception begins. With the confidence of an Italian supermodel, I provoke a conversation with my wife about the technological advances of 2008. Whilst in a state of comatose, I divulged my thoughts on the ability to gain a vote by somehow reading the retinas of a person, and this all made sense to me at the time. Without questioning me on this obviously fallacious invention, she did the most understanding thing and got me off the phone so i could resume my trance like state and eventual shut eye.
It is now 4pm and she is waiting for me to get out of bed so we can go and vote. A few minutes pass and I am scrambling around for my stuff so we can leave. In the car she brings up this heinous invention I so boldly spoke about earlier. As the story is retorted to me I can barely hold back the chuckles as I shrivel into my seat like a frightened turtle, or a male organ exposed to the chill of an unheated pool.
This all can be attributed to one thing, sleep deprivation. If anyone has ever worked from midnight til 8am, they can attest to the mind melting that occurs. Things are so distorted from lack of sleep that you start believe things that are obviously not there.
As there is no recourse for me at this point because I was so sure this was really going on, and Fabi got such a kick out of this. I have a suspicion that this story will be in the vault for the occasional reprisal for group humor.
To end this 4:54am rant of mental collapse, DON'T WORK MIDS'.......
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Landlord
While buying a house always seemed like the most exciting time for any newlywed couple, I will impart a story that will soon change your outlook on this fable.
Our one year anniversary had passed and with this came the yearning for our first home. We began to look and with every prospect came the added intoxication of thoughts of a bright future. Sellers were anxious, brokers were pushy, and our minds were made up. We decided it would be three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and enough of yard so that our mini daschund can roam freely.
So the search commenced and a greater situation loomed over us. We were being threatened with eviction because our so called luxury living community had revoked its' dog ownership rules. Our search had just intensified ten fold and we were on what you would call a "mission".
We found what we believed to be the perfect home with the perfect price. The broker was a real asshole and tried to convince us to make a larger bid than we wanted too. While we deliberated the issue we walked outside and noticed the house next door was also for sale, so off we went to take a peek. The asking price was out of our range so we looked around, mouths agape, and left with a pit in our stomachs. Back at the first house, we put our bid in and drove home with a slight feeling of nausea in both of us.
When the phone rang a few days later to inform us that the owners had accepted another bid, we were elated. To make a long story short we went back to the house next door, negotiated, and eventually came to an agreement and the contract was in the works. This shows that you should never settle with something because of the price. We almost bought a home based soley on the price and got very lucky it fell through.
Six weeks passes and our closing is approaching when the phone rings and it is the home owners asking us for our kind hearted help. Their prospective home is not going to be ready for them and with us already planning on closing, they ask to remain in the home til the middle of November. They plead with us that the possibility of being out by November 1st is great. We sign a contract that will give them til the 21st because we have our place til November 28th and figure what is the worst that could happen. On October 15th we closed and are the proud new owners of our first home. Sweet!!!
With that being said, it is November 1st and I am a landlord still, and they have no intention of vacating "my home" until the 15th of the month or so. This is the example of the how not to buy your first home.
Our one year anniversary had passed and with this came the yearning for our first home. We began to look and with every prospect came the added intoxication of thoughts of a bright future. Sellers were anxious, brokers were pushy, and our minds were made up. We decided it would be three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and enough of yard so that our mini daschund can roam freely.
So the search commenced and a greater situation loomed over us. We were being threatened with eviction because our so called luxury living community had revoked its' dog ownership rules. Our search had just intensified ten fold and we were on what you would call a "mission".
We found what we believed to be the perfect home with the perfect price. The broker was a real asshole and tried to convince us to make a larger bid than we wanted too. While we deliberated the issue we walked outside and noticed the house next door was also for sale, so off we went to take a peek. The asking price was out of our range so we looked around, mouths agape, and left with a pit in our stomachs. Back at the first house, we put our bid in and drove home with a slight feeling of nausea in both of us.
When the phone rang a few days later to inform us that the owners had accepted another bid, we were elated. To make a long story short we went back to the house next door, negotiated, and eventually came to an agreement and the contract was in the works. This shows that you should never settle with something because of the price. We almost bought a home based soley on the price and got very lucky it fell through.
Six weeks passes and our closing is approaching when the phone rings and it is the home owners asking us for our kind hearted help. Their prospective home is not going to be ready for them and with us already planning on closing, they ask to remain in the home til the middle of November. They plead with us that the possibility of being out by November 1st is great. We sign a contract that will give them til the 21st because we have our place til November 28th and figure what is the worst that could happen. On October 15th we closed and are the proud new owners of our first home. Sweet!!!
With that being said, it is November 1st and I am a landlord still, and they have no intention of vacating "my home" until the 15th of the month or so. This is the example of the how not to buy your first home.
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