my engagement ring went down the sink

So here it is, Friday, and it seems like just yesterday I was getting ready for my bridal shower…so another week down and another week closer to heading back to Hawaii. It seems SO WEIRD in my mind that I won’t be back in PA until our wedding, and yet, I know that the day will be here in a flash.

So, if there are any willing participants who are grade A packers, shippers and organizers–sign up here. I need ya now! #notkidding

Actually I am kidding on the shippers part, I spent $190 at the USPS two days ago and I think I was their biggest spender in about a year…surely that’s enough to keep them in business for the rest of 2014. Hallelujah, small town living.
If you were wondering, $190 only gets you 6 Crate & Barrel boxes shipped 5,360 miles these days.

Speaking of my upcoming trip, I’m one of the very small amount of people that cashed in on Delta’s fare mishap the day after Christmas. I’m flying back to Hawaii for less than half of what it cost to ship the aforementioned boxes. I’m only left wondering why Dane and I didn’t book our honeymoon at that exact same moment…?! It’s entirely likely he was not even thinking about the honeymoon at that point, because he was too concerned about my engagement ring…that we had just fished out of my bathroom sink.

WAIT WHATTT!

So Christmas Eve, I’m busily preparing myself to go to church. I should put a little sidenote in here that I’ve recently lost a bit of weight, so my ring is loose again. Anyway, as I am getting dressed in my bathroom, my ring flies, smacks against my bathroom mirror, and Michael Jordan slam dunks itself right down my bathroom drain. Like, I don’t even think Air Bud could have perfected the angle even more–seriously, what are the chances?!

So, in trying not to completely hyperventilate, I go to get my dad, who just so happens to be talking on the phone to his brother outside. I nervously pound on the glass door, get his attention and frantically point to my ring-less hand.
I think at this point he has gotten pretty good at detecting my “holy mother lover, I am about to lose my shit” face.
Almost as fast as I can race back up the stairs, he has rigged up a bungie cord/hanger wire combo to fish my ring out. ONE ATTEMPT later, the ring was rescued and we actually shared a laugh about it. I don’t think it was funny at all, so perhaps laughing makes us sick people, but MY GAWD, WHAT IS MY LUCK?! Since, I have gotten said ring sized AGAIN.

And that seems like a pretty darn good time to sign off for the weekend. My birthday weekend, that is. A quarter of a century old and life feels pretty daggone good.

Happy Weekend, everyone!