Monday, February 14, 2011

I've got a Proposal...

So I haven’t been blogging as often as I hoped.  That’s one New Year’s resolution I’ll never make again, along with “go to the gym”, “wash hands regularly”, and “for the love of Pete, STOP EATING HOSTESS SNACKS.”
So why have I resumed tonight?  Could be the hostess sugar high.  Could be that I’m bored out of my mind because of my self-imposed ban on TV-watching, a habit that has begun to take over my life.  Could be I feel guilty for letting my fan base down (sorry, mom).  But it’s probably because I have a hot new topic: proposals. 
And I’m not talking about business proposals.
It started with a po-dunk (poe-dunk?  Poh-dunche?) concert at a random high school in the middle of nowhere, which was starring two fabulous, if underappreciated, singers.  It was for Valentine ’s Day, and after an uncomfortably long intermission, there was a nice little dance number in which a cheerful brunette woman leapt and rolled around the stage in a modern fashion that I still have a hard time wrapping my head around.  (Seriously, is it supposed to look like they’re making it up as they go or something?)  After the dance number, a tall guy made his way to the stage, calling the girl back out.  After some mumbled words about sentiment and love, he got down on one knee, and – get ready for it – announced that he wanted to watch this girl dance for the rest of his life.
That line worked pretty well on the brunette, who squealed and hugged him enthusiastically.  Not so much for me.  I was left choking on my chewing gum, doubled over in my seat.  That sappy line could have landed me in the hospital if it weren’t for the quick-thinking of my fellow concert-goers, who gave me some hearty thumps on the back that probably saved my life.
Why must so many proposals be so very cheesy?  Or so very blah?  I don’t feel like writing a list of ground rules, but I do think that certain types of proposals should be banned.  For instance:
The metaphorical proposal: “Without you, I am like a small, lonely pond, but you are like a set of mirrors, reflecting my pond over and over again so that it becomes a vast ocean.  Or I guess you could be like another pond, making me a bigger pond.  Or you could be frogs, so my pond won’t be so lonely.  I’m really okay with any of those.  You can take your pick, my beautiful froggette.
The jokey proposal:  Will you marry me?  Ha ha, just kidding.  You should have seen the look on your face!  But seriously, will you marry me?
The prom proposal:  Guy leaves a jar of pickles on her porch with a note that reads: Here’s the dill: will you marry me?
The saying-something-stupid-in-forever-terms proposal:  I want to watch you brush your teeth…forever.  I want to watch you bake pie for me…forever.  I want to watch you do that fancy computer stuff that I don’t really understand…forever.
The hide the ring proposal: 
Guy: Honeybunch, don’t eat that cupcake too quickly.
Girl: Babycakes, why ever not?
Guy: Well, angelfish, I-
*sound of tooth cracking*
Girl: Ow!
Guy: Oops.  Well, after we go to the dentist, will you marry me?

I must be really passionate about this subject, because this has broken the record as my longest blog ever!  Which is why I have to stop now before I reach 600 words; my reputation as a lazy ne’er do-gooder is on the line.

No comments:

Post a Comment