We got a call from the jeweller’s today who said that it is virtually impossible to resize the ring down by four sizes (I’m a 4, the smallest size they had was an 8). They are going to custom make a ring for me in my size but it’s going to take about three months.

How cool is that?

We like to do things in reverse order.

First, we date for almost seven years (okay, so this is not a reversal). And then, we decide to buy a flat. But unlike most Singaporean girls who make do with “shall we buy a flat”, I am not letting him get away with that because this is the one and only proposal in my life and damn if I should get a crappy one.

Because the flat is ready by end 2008, it means we need to be wed by then. So begins the wedding preparations, as typical kiasu Singaporeans always plan at least a year ahead. But, still no sign of the anticipated proposal.

For the next seven months after we had signed our monies away, I started my campaign. Whenever we walk past a jewellery shop, I would look at him hopefully and say “blingggg”. He would either pretend to be attracted by the Toys R Us nearby or burst out laughing to mask his speechlessness. Not good.

I got bored of that after a while and decided to try a different tack: sending him pictures of the rings that I fancied. One particular favourite of mine, available locally, was a Mauboussin vintage-esque ring.

Our anniversary, birthdays, Valentine’s Day all came and went with no proposal. Why these dates? Because this man (I know him very well) would pick significant dates for something as big as a proposal so that he won’t have problems remembering it in future!

In June, he started dropping hints about diamonds: Destinee from Lee Hwa, Celestial from Goldheart etc. But with no significant dates coming up anytime soon except for our December 31/January 1 anniversary, I wasn’t expecting much.

Last week, I popped over to Hong Kong for a business trip and he joined me for the weekend after. There we were, overlooking the bright lights of the city at The Peak after a tedious journey up and enjoying each other’s company when he suddenly started murmuring into my ear: “I have a surprise for you.”

Before I knew it, he had slipped the ring onto my finger and asked me to marry him. It was the very Mauboussin ring I had fancied, hurrah!

I shed a tear or two, we hugged and kissed happily, and then he said, “Eh, wait, you haven’t said yes. Give back.”

Give back? Not in a million years, dude. It’s mine now!

And I said maybe, we’ll see.

So here I am, looking through videos that make me tear and playing Pachelbel’s Canon on repeat mode. Very soppy, am starting to feel like Becky Bloomwood. Yay.

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