It's All About the Bling

My mother says I'm afflicted with shiny object syndrome. In stores, at restaurants - basically any public place you can think of - I've always gravitated toward the things that sparkle. I can't help it. Shiny things are cool.

This is why it has been so difficult to answer that question.

Quite simply put, "I have no idea what my ring looks like as I don't have one as of yet."

He's had it for two months. This wonderful, slightly-infuriating man (who has impeccable taste, mind you) has had that shiny object in a box for two entire months and I've yet to track that puppy down.

Kevin wants to ask my father for his blessing in person.

Mind you, my benevolent father has already sent the deposit to the Wigwam for the ceremony and reception. My well-intentioned dad also churned out advice as Kev and I signed away our lives for our first house. It isn't as if Bob doesn't know his little girl is getting married.

And yet, my beloved still insists on keeping that perfect shiny object hidden until the word has been spoken.

So, here I sit, 2000 miles away from Kevin counting the days until he arrives. I send him cards because I miss him. He sends me roses because he loves me. I'm secretly pining for him because I do miss him terribly (don't tell anyone).

And yet, I can't help but wonder what it looks like.