Loss and regret part 1 (or, the story of a ring {and us}, part IV)

I think we all know where this is going...

I wore my pretty promise ring for 4 years, never taking it off.

Except one time when I was acting in a friend's directing class scene and I asked my friend to keep in it his pocket and had to chase him down later when I remembered to get it back. And then one other time in late night rehearsal for another student-directed scene, I didn't take it off, but the tiny diamond fell out.

flights of fancy, betsy white

I feel like a fraud posting about betsy white like I discovered this adorable stationery company all on my own- but that's the beauty of falling down wedding blog rabbit holes. And in the excitement of this ah-ha O.M.G. gottahaveloveit moment of discovery, I simply had to share.

I found Betsy White on my couple times a week scroll through Style me Pretty. Nostalgic, retro, + clean line, warm girly feelings:

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And their blog, flights of fancy, is chock full of inspiration and prettiness. I looooved playing around with their website where you can preview color combos and font choices.

Will I diy invites? Pay for letterpress (or letterpress classes)? Or will I chill out and choose this crazy-reasonably priced, well-designed route thereby saving money and time... but loosing letterpress (they're thermogaphy- cost effective, raised texture)?

Any other brides out there wavering on projects you were sure you'd DIY? Or sacrificing a luxury you were ready to hand over the dough for cuz you had to have it just days ago? 

le sigh... I love pretty, inspired design.

A Promise: The story of a ring, part III

Another fast forward to February 3rd, 2003. Our one-year anniversary. Marc and I had endured our first semester 4 hours apart at different colleges. (In the meantime we were voted "best couple" in our senior superlatives [ha!] and we enjoyed the best summer ever together. How I long for that simpler time. I never imagined I'd be that girl, heading off to college with a long-term high school sweetheart.)

Our relationship survived on bi-weekly visits and AIM. We used to talk about how it kinda sucked that we met young. That if we were older, we could live normal lives together, get engaged and married. Wouldn't it be nice...?

The story of a ring... part II

Cut-to senior year. (you missed me dating other guys in my 8 months of being "single-and-loving-it" or whatever. Boys, embarassments, heartbreak and bff bonding).

After a happening February half-day of video games, deli sandwiches, Stratego, and a bf in common, Marc asked me if I'd like to go running. Now, don't think I hadn't noticed new in-shape Marc at the beginning of senior year, and I wanted in on his secret. If this guy could run, so could I. I should also mention that I decided I liked him that half-day. It felt like a rebound from the guy I broke up with the day before thing- and I felt bad about that- but the fact that I felt bad that he might be a rebound was a good sign, yeah? So, we went running in Tyler Park one mild, overcast afternoon, and back to his house for dinner. Where I noticed that in my pathetic attempts at shove-laugh-flirting on our run/walk, my class ring went missing from my left ring finger.

The class ring company replaced it for cheap, but Marc would replace it with something eeeven better...

The story of a ring... part I

To fully understand the whimsy of the m&b relationship and proposal, you'll need to know some back story. Rings have been a theme since the beginning. They have been an accidental metaphor for our relationship. It was spring of aught'1....

.... And Marc- a kid in my 1st period English class- stopped me randomly [it seemed to me- and it was trendy to say "random"] in the hall during our get-to-homeroom-or-die-trying power-walk from 2nd floor west to 3rd floor east [probably an exaggeration. I have no recollection where my junior year homeroom was. It was just a huge crowded school and we all (I) had this sense of urgency between each period]. He turned around and handed me a little gift bag illustrated with a red flower. I don't think it was a special occasion. This guy just gave me this gift. In the hall. Between first period and homeroom.

One Last anniversary

Sorry I've been away this week! I swear I have viable excuses. The most important of which was our last anniversary before the counter flips back to zero and we begin to count our Anniversaries. In the traditional, wedded sense. Without our grown-up co-workers raising an eyebrow and confirming that this is indeed an anniversary of when we started dating and not a Wedding Anniversary and implying that it's not important.

Well dear friends, this one was super important. This anniversary marked 8 years of Becky and Marc. It's the number of years we'll have been dating when we get married, in the year we're getting married, at the ages we'll be when we take the plunge. For serious- our anniversary is Marc's birthday. 8 years since the night I hung back at his house after his Superbowl/18th Birthday basement party, waiting for Matt Toia's mom to pick him up so Marc could "officially" ask me to be his girlfriend, per my request.