No Ring? No Entry to the Engagement Club.

Let me start by saying that I am in a fantastic relationship for over 2 years and have no complaints.  I don't have a ring on my finger yet either, which also isn't causing me to lose any sleep.  In my mind, it will happen when it happens.  According to the Engagement Club of Engaged Females who only Like Other Engaged Females, I am something similar to the Creature of the Black Lagoon.  Only worse, because I have no bling.  I'm sorry - but, WHAT THE HELL????

I'm not saying all engaged women are guilty of this - some are really lovely and genuinely can't wait for you to be in the same scenario.  I have a few friends who are engaged as I write this, who I couldn't possibly be happier for.  But most women, it seems, become completely engrossed in a semi-psychotic stare upon their left ring finger...and then promptly begin to alienate their girlfriends who don't bare a similar knuckle-crusher.  Allow me to elaborate.

I made the error of attending a "girls night get-together" once, unaware that 17 out of 20 people there were either engaged, newly married or ready to pop out their first ankle-biter.  All perfectly lovely girls in their own right, I was immediately blinded by shiny sparklers, which was sort of fascinating (who doesn't get a kick out of watching a big bunch of women silently size one another's rings up?).  Because if your ring is bigger than your best friend's, obviously your fiance loves you more.  Gag me.

Once my eyesight returned, I found myself cornered by one of the aforementioned newlyweds, who proceeded to deliver a thesis on custom wedding invitations to me for the next 20 minutes.  I actually had to ask the uncomfortable question out loud - "You do know that I am NOT engaged, correct?" The 'ohmygodyoupoorthing' look on her face was almost enough to make me laugh out loud. 

And just recently, the boyfriend and I took a weekend trip to the Inner Harbor. Without missing a beat, every other female I know (and some males too, which was kind of absurd) started with the "OMG is this IT?! Is this the weekend?!  Are you so excited?!" -- like they already knew the fate of my poor, poor bare left finger.  How sad they were when I returned in the same condition that I left in, all boo-hoos over lost bets and whatnot, which could either make me laugh at the ridiculousness or ball my eyes out in self-pity.  I chose the first alternative. So, we did not become engaged.  And it was an awesome, amazing weekend.  Which means I am still happy and not losing sleep.  Both good things.

Asking when I think it will happen or why it hasn't happened yet, doesn't make it any better.  It actually kind of makes me feel like hitting you in the head with the $200 bouquet of rare sweet peas and tulips you just ordered.  I promise, when it happens, I'll call you.  Or I won't and then you'll know not to expect a custom-designed, hand-stitched and specially-pressed invite either.

So Here Is My Promise -- When my wonderful other-half and I do get engaged, I will not stare at my left hand like a popsicle on a 200 degree day, I will not bore you with conversation about how I want my hair done or special napkins, and I will sure as hell not start asking you when your time is going to come.  And if I ever lose my way and do any of these things, by all means - tell me I look fat in my wedding dress.  I will deserve it.  :)