engaged (in more than one sense of the word)
I just thought I would let you all know that the French-man and I are now officially engaged! : )
After what I think has been the most drawn out engagement ever, I finally had to look for the ring box myself (with his permission of course!). I asked him "If I find it, can I have it?", he agreed and I then spent the next 20 minutes hunting like a little kid at easter. I checked in cupboards, shoes, behind curtains, up high, down low, etc etc and still nothing. I then remarked in passing that if he was smart, he would hide it with something of mine because it would be the last place I would look. Later on he replied that he was smart and I began looking casually through my own things. I lightly frisked my hanging clothes and bent down to search my shoes when I noticed he was giggling like a little child. I must have been close! I went back and took more care patting down the clothes. Success! A little square box in my grey trench coat! : ) Bending on one knee and presenting the ring upside down, what could I say but YES!!!
Funny thing, but had I not found the ring yesterday, I would have had to wait until he decided to do it. But lucky it was yesterday because today it was raining and I would have found the box in my coat pocket by accident!
On another note: I've come to realise strongly that I'm not a big fan of Aussie TV chef, Ian Hewitson. Man, he is a moron. But why do I continue to watch his idiotic attempts at cooking? Because there is nothing else on. I frequently find myself yelling at the TV at his absolutely stupid, impractical, wasteful, and clumsy cooking. He is obsessed with cleaning the plate for presentation, yet he measures everything ("measure out 2 tablespoons of olive oil into the pan...") and leaves half of it in the bowl while hastily putting his recipe together. At one stage I had to turn off because I got very angry all of a sudden. He splashed a drop of raspberry sauce on his shirt (barely noticeable) and after the commercial break he returned with a different shirt explaining how he just "had to" change shirts because he made a mess of himself. It was one drop, dude! What a tossbag! Now I find it self-torturing and I find myself tuning in to his show just to see what unco (aussie slang for un-coordinated/spazzy) things he does. Why do I torture myself this way? Why keep watching, I hear you ask... well, I just like to watch cooking shows and get new ideas for cooking. Now I know that no-one beats Mr Jamie Oliver!
