The perfect proposal.

I mean, it's not like I'm even in any state to be thinking about such matters, seeing that I am woefully single and will likely stay that way forever because I don't like talking to strangers and don't trust guys who try to talk to me in bars (but those are whole different stories in and of themselves). And to top it off, being in the field of education is not helping either (but I am going to fix that by taking a class at the Kennedy School. Obviously it's in order to get me some learning, it has nothing to do with the fact that there are a gazillion more guys there than at the ed school who are actually cute. Yes, I am indeed that desperate. I was going to cross-register at the business school, but I'm not smart enough to figure out their whacked out schedule. But education is paramount, obviously).

Anyway, whilst at my favourite wine bar with Lisa the other night.. and I don't even know how it came up (oh right, we were talking about this couple who was part of the NYE's party who are probably going to get engaged in Costa Rica. It sounds cute, but the guy sucks a big hairy one and I am so sorry that she is so desperate she's going to marry a toolshed like this guy). Okay, so I do know how it came up, and I have determined the absolutely perfect proposal for me.

I want my engagement ring sitting in the bottom of my martini.

Yes, it's rather inspired after the Algonquin Hotel's $10,000 martini. Oh wait, some fucker's already done it. No matter. Since I am such a raging alcoholic, I think that this would indeed be perfectly fitting.

But after I voiced this, the doubts started settling in.

Me: You know me, I'd probably swallow the damn thing. I mean, if it was sitting in the bottom of this glass [looking at highball glass], I wouldn't even see it. And I would probably be drunk, too. Maybe this is a bad idea.
Lisa: Don't be silly, you'd have to be super-drunk to swallow a ring.
Me: Haha, as drunk as you were on New Year's Eve? Do you have your Starbuck's card?
Lisa: Damn, I was so drunk that night. But anyway, you wouldn't swallow the ring. Plus, it would be in the bottom of a martini glass, which is elevated so it'd be more at eye-level. And you'd see something huge and sparkling at the bottom of the glass.
Me: Hm. This sounds good. Okay, you need to let my future husband know that this is how he's going to have to propose if he wants me to marry him.
Lisa: You tell me who he is, and I'll do it.

So there you have it. If you want me to marry you, you're going to have to propose with a drink in hand, ring in drink. And I don't even want it to be at some big swanky bar, but somewhere lowkey that I love. I can provide a list if necessary. (I am so damn picky.) It is good to know that I am so prepared for these sorts of situations. Writing papers on attachment theory and emotion, not so much. But for my eventual proposal and wedding, it's all taken care of.