-Last Saturday, I had some friends over to booze and christen my new apartment.  Everyone brought the requisite sixer.  When my former roommate Brian arrived with his girlfriend, I noticed they were carrying a six-pack as well as a bottle of champagne.  Immediately, my spider-sense began tingling.  Brian would never shell out for a bottle of bubbly just because I got a new place.  Instinctively, I glanced over at his girlfriend – and happened to spot a rock on her finger.  And that’s when I figured out that Brian had gotten engaged.  Holy shit!  Engaged?  Dom Perignon?  What happened to the Brian we all know and love?  Then he whipped out some cheap, plastic, disposable champagne glasses and I thought – oh, there he is.

-At first I was a little miffed because Brian didn’t give me any indication when he was going to pop the question.  Afterward, he told me he just really wanted to keep it a secret and that I have a tendency to get drunk, say things I shouldn’t, and break everything.  I protested but Brian said, “Honestly Karo, we call you the Human Security Deposit.”

-I just want to point out that Brian got engaged about three months after we stopped living together, but he’s known he’d be marrying his girlfriend for quite some time.  So in essence, I lived with a married couple for at least a year.  You know how fucking weird and unhealthy that was?  I actually used to yell at Brian for keeping the toilet seat…down!

-Of course, with an engagement party, a bachelor party, a bachelorette party, a bridal shower, a rehearsal dinner, and then the actual wedding, the engagement is just the beginning of a yearlong series of events celebrating every incremental step of the process.  It’s like Billy Madison is getting married.