Is it secret? Is it safe?
"Can we stop at the next rest stop?"
"Sure thing"
"OK" I think to myself... "This is it." I’m nervous, but not as nervous as I thought I’d be. I guess that’s a good sign.
We pull into the parking lot. It’s relatively quiet at this hour. It’s not even nine o’clock yet. I go to the bathroom in the rest stop. I pull the box out of my pocket for the eight hundredth time and make sure the ring is still there.
I stop for a coffee after my bathroom break. I’m still trying to act as casually as I possibly can. Meanwhile, this thing weighs about a hundred pounds right now. I can’t believe she didn’t notice the funny-shaped-pointy-thing sticking out from my pocket. It would almost be a relief if she asked me about it… I’m going to burst if I have to keep it a secret for another hour.
We walk back out into the cold morning air. "Hold up," I say, and get down on the ground like I’m tying my shoe. I then put my coffee down on the ground next to me and proceed to knock it over. Great. Just the way I wanted to immortalize this moment.
I recompose myself and pull the box out of my pocket.
I place the box in her hand and ask her to marry me.
It takes about two full seconds for her to recognize what is actually happening. I panic briefly in that time. It feels like 20 minutes. A rest stop along the highway? What made me think this was a good idea? Have I made a gross miscalculation of her tolerance of my sense of humor? Oh well. Either way, I’ll get a pretty good story out of this. But if she does say "No," this is going to be an awfully long week...
And then finally she answers:
"Yes".
There is giggling. There is disbelief. There are hugs and kisses. We run back into the car to warm up and laugh at the situation. A tremendous sense of relief washes over me.
We make a few quick phone calls to share the news with friends and family and get back on the road. I’m pretty chatty for the next hour or so. I’ve been keeping so much of this to myself for the last month. But it’s always great to talk to her. This feels right.
Wednesday, December 31, 2003
Friday, December 19, 2003
Wednesday, December 17, 2003
Monday, December 15, 2003
War is not the answer...
A few weeks ago, a group of my high school buddies and I all got together for our "unofficial" 10-year reunion (before you ask, there was no "official" 10-year reunion... how lame is that?).
The plan was to get a cheap hotel room and do some gambling. In order save money (well, in order to have more money for gambling), we agreed to all stay in one hotel room. Now, I don't know about you, but it is my belief that six guys in one hotel room is NEVER a good idea (and I think the good folks at the Best Western in Mystic would agree with me on this one).
We checked in around three on a Saturday afternoon and started drinking. It didn't take long for everyone to settle into their normal roles within the group. Other than being a little older and fatter, everyone had changed surprisingly little.
By 6:00, everyone had a good buzz going. Nobody had to worry about driving, as there was a shuttle to the casino from where we were (OK, I've got to admit, that was a pretty smart move).
It was exciting to finally get to the casino. But, oh man, Foxwoods on a Saturday night is one kooky place. The people. The outfits. The gambling.
I then proceeded to lose $160 real quick at the blackjack tables. And it wasn't pretty. I kept stopping at 18 or 19, and the dealer kept blowing me out of the water. Ouch. I licked my wounds and moved on to smaller ventures.
I moved on to the $5 War table (yes, War, the card game you played when you were a kid). I actually did OK there. But I saw a guy lose $2000 on ONE HAND of WAR.
ONE hand!
Of WAR!
Think about that for a minute...
Anyway, six hours at Foxwoods when you're losing can really be a drag. I got some cheap dinner and watched the other guys play for a while. I was grateful when the shuttle arrived to take us back to our low-roller hotel.
But the casino was only foreplay...
We made our way back to the hotel room. And played poker until six in the morning.
I feel bad for the people in the rooms next to ours. We must have been pretty loud and obnoxious. And drunk. And loud.
But I was having a blast. It was good to be out with the guys and only be concerned about the next card coming up (and occasionally running out of beer). After a summer spent desperately looking for a new job, and then adjusting to the new job and pounding out another grad school class during the fall, it was nice to blow off a little steam and not worry about every dollar.
And eventually, my luck started turning.
Holy shit! I suddenly found myself up a couple hundred bucks (I think I even won $108 on one pot... (I also won the $5 ante final showdown hand)). Awesome.
Things finally wound down. I was able to grab about three hours of sleep before hitting the road.
It felt great to get in the car and drive home up for the weekend. I think the whole experience probably took about a week off my life. But what a ride...
A few weeks ago, a group of my high school buddies and I all got together for our "unofficial" 10-year reunion (before you ask, there was no "official" 10-year reunion... how lame is that?).
The plan was to get a cheap hotel room and do some gambling. In order save money (well, in order to have more money for gambling), we agreed to all stay in one hotel room. Now, I don't know about you, but it is my belief that six guys in one hotel room is NEVER a good idea (and I think the good folks at the Best Western in Mystic would agree with me on this one).
We checked in around three on a Saturday afternoon and started drinking. It didn't take long for everyone to settle into their normal roles within the group. Other than being a little older and fatter, everyone had changed surprisingly little.
By 6:00, everyone had a good buzz going. Nobody had to worry about driving, as there was a shuttle to the casino from where we were (OK, I've got to admit, that was a pretty smart move).
It was exciting to finally get to the casino. But, oh man, Foxwoods on a Saturday night is one kooky place. The people. The outfits. The gambling.
I then proceeded to lose $160 real quick at the blackjack tables. And it wasn't pretty. I kept stopping at 18 or 19, and the dealer kept blowing me out of the water. Ouch. I licked my wounds and moved on to smaller ventures.
I moved on to the $5 War table (yes, War, the card game you played when you were a kid). I actually did OK there. But I saw a guy lose $2000 on ONE HAND of WAR.
ONE hand!
Of WAR!
Think about that for a minute...
Anyway, six hours at Foxwoods when you're losing can really be a drag. I got some cheap dinner and watched the other guys play for a while. I was grateful when the shuttle arrived to take us back to our low-roller hotel.
But the casino was only foreplay...
We made our way back to the hotel room. And played poker until six in the morning.
I feel bad for the people in the rooms next to ours. We must have been pretty loud and obnoxious. And drunk. And loud.
But I was having a blast. It was good to be out with the guys and only be concerned about the next card coming up (and occasionally running out of beer). After a summer spent desperately looking for a new job, and then adjusting to the new job and pounding out another grad school class during the fall, it was nice to blow off a little steam and not worry about every dollar.
And eventually, my luck started turning.
Holy shit! I suddenly found myself up a couple hundred bucks (I think I even won $108 on one pot... (I also won the $5 ante final showdown hand)). Awesome.
Things finally wound down. I was able to grab about three hours of sleep before hitting the road.
It felt great to get in the car and drive home up for the weekend. I think the whole experience probably took about a week off my life. But what a ride...
Friday, December 12, 2003
Wednesday, December 03, 2003
Pictures from the new camera (not the best examples of my photography, but I am pleased with the image quality):
http://members.cox.net/pcanole75/Copy%20(2)%20of%20index.htm
http://members.cox.net/pcanole75/Copy%20(2)%20of%20index.htm
Tuesday, December 02, 2003
Is nothing sacred?
I believe one of the hardest things in life is maintaining excellence.
With that in mind, "The Matrix Revolutions" was incredibly disappointing. Without giving too much away, I just didn't feel like I cared about any of the characters they chose to focus on (except when Hugo Weaving was on the screen... Man, that guy is good).
The Wachowski's MUST have known how big a turd the script was when they started filming it. The whole movie felt like a first draft of something. Shame on them for not asking for help if they were out of ideas.
As disappointed as I was with "The Matrix Reloaded" at the time, that thing looks like a masterpiece in retrospect.
They really had a chance to do something good, too. They created a pretty interesting universe with the first two parts of the trilogy, but they just couldn't finish it. Instead, 25 years from now, people will look back and think, "Wow... THAT could have been a lot better".
I had such a bad taste in my mouth afterwards, I had to go watch "Rushmore" just so I could like movies again.
I believe one of the hardest things in life is maintaining excellence.
With that in mind, "The Matrix Revolutions" was incredibly disappointing. Without giving too much away, I just didn't feel like I cared about any of the characters they chose to focus on (except when Hugo Weaving was on the screen... Man, that guy is good).
The Wachowski's MUST have known how big a turd the script was when they started filming it. The whole movie felt like a first draft of something. Shame on them for not asking for help if they were out of ideas.
As disappointed as I was with "The Matrix Reloaded" at the time, that thing looks like a masterpiece in retrospect.
They really had a chance to do something good, too. They created a pretty interesting universe with the first two parts of the trilogy, but they just couldn't finish it. Instead, 25 years from now, people will look back and think, "Wow... THAT could have been a lot better".
I had such a bad taste in my mouth afterwards, I had to go watch "Rushmore" just so I could like movies again.
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