At long last (north of 8 years), I have wisened up and asked my best friend, Abbie, to be my wife. We took a relaxing walk around the promontory formed by the Planetarium and I told her that I loved her so much that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, then got down on one knee and presented the bling.

BLING! We’ve had so many congratulatory emails and phone calls and repeat phone calls and date inquiries and suggestions from mothers (three of them) about ceremony and reception venues and bride’s maids’ dress colors and dates and times and seasons and engagement parties and—geez people, it’s been like 20 hours. Needless to say, we have a lot of planning to do.

Oh yes, I suppose I should say that I wouldn’t have written all of this without the fact that, in response to my query, she said: “bwsiencaqepuiose93nniqo4w89YES!” all the while probably causing a tsunami on Lake Michigan with her voluminous, teary contribution.

Of course, the date is forthcoming, and you are all virtually invited, provided you don’t eat too much food.