Pursuing the Perfect Proposal

There is one major benefit to being a traditional kind of guy who's dating a geeky kind of girl: You can propose to her in absolutely any way your romantically geeky mind can come up with.

There's also one major drawback to this situation: You can propose to her in absolutely any way your romantically geeky mind can come up with.

During our fancy dinner on the night we got engaged (spoiler alert: we're engaged), I let loose with a veritable novella of what took me so long to propose, how I pulled together my proposal, and all the rejected and unused proposal ideas that I and my friends conjured up. Then I thought, "Hey! I could use this for a blog post!"

The next time your blogger boyfriend proposes to you, don't hesitate to question his motives.

Let's back up, though, to see how we reached this fancy post-engagement dinner. This was the first night of our anniversary weekend, taking place at the end of January, but the story really starts around Thanksgiving. Perhaps all that talking about turkeys prompted me to build up the courage to ask this girl to marry me. Perhaps I'd been ready to ask her for a while, but the timing didn't work out in what I thought was my favor.

I spent most of November through January laying the foundation for an engagement: I asked parental permission, picked up from my parents the 73-year-old engagement ring my grandmother had worn, and waited until after the holiday season had ended to get an appointment with a jeweler we trusted to appraise and clean up the ring. The wait was worth it--especially because I didn't figure out how I was going to propose until the night before.

I was cursed by having creative friends and a working Internet connection. Any proposal idea I came up with had already been done by someone I knew or had heard about online, but with more flair than I could pull off. Composing a song and getting some guys together to seranade her into pre-wedded bliss? Taken. Hacking a Super Mario World ROM to make some gold coins spell out, "WILL YOU MARRY ME?" Taken. I realized that getting engaged is not a competition, but I had no intentions of being outdone.

I plotted fruitlessly for months. For longer than I care to admit, my fallback plan was to be out on a romantic walk somewhere when I stop and reach into my pocket, saying, "I think I heard my phone ring," then pull out the little jewelry box and pop it open and say, "Whoops, wrong ring." If she could say yes to me after an appalling pun like that, then she was definitely the one I wanted to be with.

I had some decent ideas, but all of them required access to a computer, which would most likely be the one in my only vaguely romantic apartment. Though it was fleetingly amusing to think of proposing to her through a YouTube video or an MP3 I recorded in four-part harmony with myself, I'd still be proposing within 15 feet of a garbage can. This would not do.

I began thinking of more romantic settings, but anywhere I could think of proposing in the middle of a particularly oppressive winter was not a place I wanted to be kneeling on the ground to give her the ring. Anywhere indoors that I could think of was too crowded--knowing her, I decided it would be better to propose in private. Which brought me back to my apartment and its piles of unfolded laundry and centrally located garbage can.

The only way I might propose in my apartment was if I followed one friend's advice and proposed to her during a session of Dungeons & Dragons. I'd run a straightforward game that culminated in the most epic dragon battle in D&D history, and when the heroes emerge victorious, they search the dragon and discover treasure--represented in real life by a series of props.

"You search the dragon and find...an impressive-looking magical sword." I'd hand the sword prop I still have from my high school production of Pippin to one of the players. "After searching a bit more, you find a curious old scroll." I'd give another player a rolled up piece of parchment with illegible scribbles on it. "Finally, just as you're about to stop looking, you find...a ring." I'd hand over the engagement ring to my gal, and as the players won the game, I'd win her heart.

"For extra realism, the ring should be dripping in dragon ichor," my friend added.

And then, "You owe me $20 if you use that idea, though."

I continued conjuring up new ideas, but nothing seemed quite right. The setting wasn't romantic enough, or there was too much risk of the proposal not going as planned (two major strikes against the otherwise fantastic D&D idea). I had to do something that would appeal to her heart while simultaneously triggering her squeeing geek reflexes, and I eventually determined that this would rule out any performance-oriented proposal ideas. No singing; no gaming; no juggling gnomes. I would give her a gift.

I would make her a gift.

At first, I thought of writing her love poetry (I've been known to write from time to time) and presenting the ring at the conclusion of a sweet and witty sonnet, but that would still qualify as a performance. Maybe if I gave her a sort of gift basket of love--a poem for every year we'd been together, accompanied my a handmade token of my affection that related somehow to the poem. Yes. This was a good plan.

I was only a week away from our anniversary weekend when I started thinking down this avenue, so anything I did had to be feasible to create in only a few days with materials I had on hand or could easily acquire. Naturally, my free time for the week disappeared with other anniversary preparations (such as figuring out where we were going), an impromptu Venture Bros. marathon, and an entire evening unexpectedly spent with the girl who was never going to become my fiancée at this rate.

I ended up with just one evening to (a) call my family and inform them of my engagement plan, (b) figure out what my engagement plan was, (c) actually prepare my engagement plan, and (d) pack for our anniversary trip to Small Romantic Town, USA. Instead of doing any of this, I went back through the e-mails I'd been neglecting for the past several weeks and watched all those funny videos my one friend sent me in mid-December.

Meanwhile, I plotted.

Then, in an instant, it clicked.

And the answer was Mega Man.

I just hoped I had enough LEGOs.

I'll bet the suspense is unbearable.

Full disclosure and conclusion tomorrow.

And probably not as many one-sentence paragraphs.

Guaranteed.


[Continued in Part 3.]

Waiting for Wednesday, Volume 3, Issue 5

Howdy, folks, and welcome to a Very Thursday Edition of Waiting for Wednesday. I got bumped from my usual time slot yesterday for something (I've been told) that's more important than comic books and the buying of said comic books.

The nerve of some people, I tells ya.

Though, to be honest, if I had my way, you wouldn't hear from me until after Nathaniel delivers the second part of yesterday's exciting announcement. Because it's a heck of a good yarn.

And it is exciting. I wouldn't even have to venture too far out on that metaphorical limb (I'd go out on the real one, just outside my window, but it's too covered in ice to support anything heavier than a crow at the moment) to say that, yes, yesterday's post was the single most important thing that's ever appeared on this blog.

And the happiest, too.

I've known the newly engaged couple for just about four years now, and like everyone else who knows either party for even just a little bit, the first thing I said to Nathaniel after he told me the news was, "It's about time."

Seriously. You should see these two.

Check out any photo of Nathaniel and his soon-to-be bride at, say, Otakon, and just try telling me she isn't the Marion to his Indy. The Leia to his Han. The Ally McBeal to his Harrison Ford.

More importantly, though, he is the Green Arrow to her Black Canary.

What your intrepid, geeky reporter is trying to say here is that they are a great couple. And I'm incredibly happy for them both, and I wish them the greatest of everything, forever.

So, Exfanders, let's all raise a glass and say CONGRATULATIONS!

-- -- -- --

And, oh yeah! There are comics that came out this week. Um. Okay, let's see. Since I was snowed in again yesterday (well, fine, that's not true--I was actually "iced" in), I didn't make it to the comics shop for the second week in a row.

However, I'm told that publishers still publish books, distributors still distribute books, and stores still sell books, even though Yours Truly is stuck at home.

The nerve of some people, I tells ya.

Anyway, today we have issue two of a two-part story written by Mike Mignola and with beautiful line art by Scott Hampton and lush colors by the great Dave Stewart.
Hellboy: The Sleeping and the Dead is one of those perfect collaborative efforts, where you can't imagine a better pairing of writer and artists to tell a specific story. The theme, mood, and story elements here--gothic vampires, basically--are so perfectly suited to Hampton's art and, obviously, to the Hellboy character and Mignola's voice.
Here's the quick, on-the-nose solicitation information from Dark Horse:

Hellboy is trapped in a dark basement littered with bones and small coffins, and the only way out is through the floating creature of death!

For the first time, Mike Mignola teams up with artist Scott Hampton (Batman, The Sandman Presents: Lucifier) for this gothic tale.

* Classic vampire horror!

* The exciting conclusion!

I'd say this two-parter is the perfect way for someone new to Hellboy to wade into the waters of Mignola's universe. Issue one will almost certainly still be available at your local shop, so buy both books and see if it's your thing.

Give it a shot. I think you'll dig it.

And with that, I'm off. To do more work, and then to go to meetings, and then to go to the comics shop (maybe, hopefully). Before I go, though, what are you Waiting for?

Waiting for Wedding Day; or, I'm Sorry You Had to Find Out from the Blog

We interrupt Alex's regularly scheduled Waiting for Wednesday to bring you an announcement from Friday that wouldn't work for Saturday through Tuesday, but couldn't wait for Thursday.

With me so far?

Right. Thought so. I'm engaged.

It's been just over four years since my gal and I got together, and I had somewhat managed to convince her that I would finally propose around Valentine's Day. I say finally with italic emphasis for a good reason. We've been mistaken for a married couple by every stranger we've met since we started dating. I've even mistaken her for my wife when I've asked her on occasion to do my dishes while I'm playing video games, but that's another matter entirely.

We figured out very early on that we tend to balance each other in the ways that we're different, and we usually compliment each other in the ways we're alike. This alone is enough to provide stability in a dating relationship, and it's how we managed to stay a state of relationship limbo for so long. For months--even as much as a year or two--we've both had enough relationship XP to level up...but I lacked the self-imposed prerequisites to do so. Also, the magical ring.

My path to husbandhood was simple and logical: Get a girlfriend. Get to know her. Determine she's the one I want to be with for the rest of my life, except for a few deal-breakers that need to change (read: vegetarian). Realize that a lifetime of playing excessive amounts of Mega Man without being nagged to stop is worth a few extra vegetables, and deal with the deal-breakers.

Here's where it got tricky: Secure a steady job and move out from my parents' house--I wanted to establish that I could be a functional human being on my own before bringing anyone else into my mess. The idea of getting married wasn't driving me to get a job and a place of my own, but the lack of a job and a place of my own was a barrier to progress.

I was unemployed for a year, and it was a few months until I started looking at apartments, but my lady friend waited patiently for me. After I got the apartment, however, it started to look like I was stalling. How long would it take before I proved I could be a functional human being on my own? Especially when that ever-growing pile of laundry implied the urgent need for a certain feminine touch?

Evidently, the answer is, "However long it takes for me to put a ring on her finger." I've got all sorts of perfectly valid excuses as to why that didn't happen weeks or months ago, but the important part is that we're now engaged.

The more important part is that we're now engaged thanks to Mega Man.

Consider yourself teased.


[Continued in Part 2.]

Month in Review: January 2011

I'm meeting my Month in Review post quota for the year straight away in 2011, coming right out of the box with a recap of our January offerings.

And, oh, what a January it was.

Lots of writing, lots of "Best of" lists, and lots of our trademark nonsense. Here's what we added to Internet culture over the past 31 days.

--We rang in the New Year, mostly by reminiscing about the Old Year. Oh, and in true fannish style, we offered solutions to things we figure will need fixing in 2011.

--A quick review of a great book that peels away the layers of the comics professional.

--Year Three of our comics-centric/self-help/certifiably insane weekly feature, Waiting for Wednesday, rolled out with issues one, two, three, and four.

--Nathaniel's enjoyment of having to wait to play the next installment of Back to the Future, an episodic point-and-click adventure game.

--A recap of some big comics announcements, including Superman's return to DC's flagship title, Action Comics, Grant Morrison's Flex Mentallo series finally getting a hardcover release, and Joe Quesada's stepping down as Marvel EIC.

--Nathaniel's post about accumulating 500 games on his Backloggery, including 400 that he owns outright. He also talks about the nature of his video game collecting. And, just because he feels a compulsion to mention it...he mentions his Mega Man Marathons.

--Speaking of mentioning Mega Man, here's a handy little guide that provides links to each one of Nathaniel's Mega Man-centric posts.

--An epic post that pits the original Tron against its decades-later successor, Tron: Legacy. Who wins this battle of epic-ness? I dunno. Just go read the post, Bucky.

--A post that I had initially thought was directed towards me, but then turned out to be about enjoying one's fandoms.

--A review of a trippy little documentary about a trippy comics writer.

--A manifesto of sorts about 3-D movies in general, and The Green Hornet in particular.

--The first in our new series of posts spotlighting comics and gaming stores, and really, whatever other places sell cool swag. Oh, and when the second installment comes your way this month, it'll have a new, official name.

--Of course, not every day could bring an in-depth, relevant post. In such cases, things like this and this and this are life-savers. Oh, and this, too.

--And, since it's our blog and we like to justify things in our own heads, a post about why filler posts are okay.

--Just to prove that it's not all fun and games around here, we talked about the continuing problems facing bookstore chain Borders, and we lamented the likely end of an era.

--A quick post featuring some fantastic and geeky motivational posters.

--The shocking two-part series of posts about my shocking introduction to Anime. And, uh, some other things, too. Shocking!

--Yet another post by Nathaniel describing something I never even knew was a thing--some good, old-fashioned video game map editing.

--A post about how Venture Bros. has helped Nathaniel to better appreciate Star Trek.

--When I read this one, about (lack of) snow days, I heard it in the voice of Charlie Brown.

--A sad little post about Wizard Magazine shutting its (print version) doors.

--And, finally, a recap of all the video game goodness that was GameCola in January, 2011.