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~ Monday, September 05, 2005 ~
Unstopping the Press
Dear Carrie~, Beard Mutterer, and Anyone Else who Thought I was Going Back to Plan my Own Wedding,
Look, I know I'm not exactly the sort of blogger who runs to post every time her hair grows another inch, but give me a *little* credit here: just because I'm not posting doesn't mean I'm running off and eloping behind your backs. Honestly, you really think I'd let something like my own engagement go by without, at the very least, a post announcing my change of status? You know me better than that. An event that significant, and you know I'd be teasing out every detail and over-describing every plot point ("and then he began to roll up his trouser leg in preparation for kneeling down, although I didn't realize what was happening at the time, because I was busy admiring the trouser fabric, which was a lightweight chocolate-colored wool--an interesting choice for summertime, I remember thinking--and a bit wrinkled, but what do you expect from someone who's been on horseback all day?"), all to craft an overly lengthy play-by-play account, complete with too much background, too little action, excessive punctuation, and a whole mess of punchlines that don't punch. Now, do you see a long play-by-play account of the circumstances under which I was the happy recipient of a marriage proposal? I didn't think so. You may now safely conclude that I am not planning to be married in the immediate future.
In other news, I went to see a movie last night, I'm working part-time in a dance shoe store, and my hair has grown another inch.
Love, Miriam
P.S. If I *were* engaged, and I wanted to keep it a secret, a. I probably wouldn't mention it on my blog, and b. I probably wouldn't tell you about it, even if you asked, because then it wouldn't be a secret anymore, would it?
~ prattled by Miriam at 12:49 a.m. [+]
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