You need to see this video to get this joke:
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
A Cute Romantic Story
So I decided that I'd ask her to marry me.
Or ask her if she would marry me.
Or say that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.
Or tell her I loved her, and that I wanted her to be with me forever.
Or give her a ring -- a big, huge diamond ring. Or just get down on my
knees and let my eyes say it all.
Well, I had reached a decision. What exactly I was going to do about
it, I didn't know -- at least not yet.
It's now exactly one year since the first time I had started talking
with her-- an anniversary of sorts. I remembered, because that
>first time was New Year.
And tomorrow it's New Year again.
And we had become close friends.
And I had fallen in love.
And since I am a simple-minded sort of guy, I have decided I want to
marry her.
But How to tell her, though, was a bit of a problem.
There were so many ways to do it and choosing the right one wasn't
easy. And I had no idea how she'd react.
Would she think I was moving too fast?
Was it too early to suggest marriage?
Was she even interested in me in that way?
Surely, the best way to find out was to tell her how I felt, and ask
her if she felt the same.
And if she did, then we could get married. Right?
These thoughts had been in my head from the moment I had
>woken up that morning. And I'd only been awake a few minutes. As I finished
>brushing my teeth, the phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hi!" It was her.
The sound of her cheery voice took my breath away. "Hi!" I replied,
almost whispering.
"Listen," she said, sounding very excited. "I'm having a
>party at home tonight. Be there at eight."
"Sure," I replied.
"Ok, bye!" And she put the phone down.
I stood there for almost a minute, staring at the phone in my hand.
And then I stupidly said "Bye" to it.
I would have to reach the party early, to tell her in private. Or
should I say it right there in front of all the guests? Or after the
party, when we were cleaning up after everyone was gone?
And what was I going to get her? Should I get her anything at
>all? How
about flowers? Roses? Or was that too clichéd?
Orchids sounded better.
Or bluebells.
Or tulips.
Or cauliflower.
I checked my thoughts. No. Not cauliflower.
It's New Year.
A gift was definitely in order.
I could get her that moonstone pendant she liked so much.
But then it was a little flimsy as a gift.
It was really a toy more than a piece of jewellery.
But did it matter if she really liked it?
Should I get her a book instead?
Or a CD?
Or an earring?
Or should I make her something?
I thought about my artistic skills and decided that that was probably
not a good idea.
I spent so much time looking for a suitable gift all day that by the
time I decided that flowers would be a better option, all the florists had closed.
And it was also too late to try to get to her house early and catch her alone.
So I decided I'd tell her after the party when everyone was gone. And
that I wouldn't get her anything -- more because I couldn't, than
anything else.
Feeling like a fool, and extremely nervous, I reached her doorstep. I
was on time, but there didn't seem to be any noise coming from inside.
Maybe no one had turned up yet. After all, who came to a party on time?
I stood there and composed myself for a minute.
Then, reasonably confident that the turmoil I was going through
wouldn't show, I knocked.
She opened the door, but only a fraction.
She slid out without opening the door completely, handed me a
>piece of cloth, and told me to tie it around my eyes. "We're playing
>Blind Man's Buff," she said.
Meekly, I put the blindfold on, and she led me into the house. There
was silence, and no one was making a sound. Quite sneaky of
>everyone, I thought to myself.
She spun me around a little, and then made me stop.
She backed away, and then said from somewhere behind me, "Ok, you can
take it off now."
Though a little confused as to what version of Blind Man's Buff was
played after taking the blindfold off, I complied.
And as soon as I opened my eyes, I froze.
I was standing in the middle of her empty living room, and the lights
had all been turned off. But the room was brightly lit with dozens of
candles.
And on the wall in front of me, was a big poster with the following
words on it:
One year ago, this day we met.
There was an arrow pointing to the right, beside the poster.
So I turned. On the next wall were the words:
One year of friendship
One year of joy
One year of laughter
between a girl and a boy
One year of comfort
One year of closeness
One year of peace
and a whole lot of happiness
On the third wall, was:
One year or Six,
a lifetime it seems,
And yet, it feels just like yesterday
I turned to look at the fourth wall, and there, standing in front of
it, was she, holding up a poster in her hands that said:
I want to be this happy forever
Will You Marry Me?
Or ask her if she would marry me.
Or say that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.
Or tell her I loved her, and that I wanted her to be with me forever.
Or give her a ring -- a big, huge diamond ring. Or just get down on my
knees and let my eyes say it all.
Well, I had reached a decision. What exactly I was going to do about
it, I didn't know -- at least not yet.
It's now exactly one year since the first time I had started talking
with her-- an anniversary of sorts. I remembered, because that
>first time was New Year.
And tomorrow it's New Year again.
And we had become close friends.
And I had fallen in love.
And since I am a simple-minded sort of guy, I have decided I want to
marry her.
But How to tell her, though, was a bit of a problem.
There were so many ways to do it and choosing the right one wasn't
easy. And I had no idea how she'd react.
Would she think I was moving too fast?
Was it too early to suggest marriage?
Was she even interested in me in that way?
Surely, the best way to find out was to tell her how I felt, and ask
her if she felt the same.
And if she did, then we could get married. Right?
These thoughts had been in my head from the moment I had
>woken up that morning. And I'd only been awake a few minutes. As I finished
>brushing my teeth, the phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hi!" It was her.
The sound of her cheery voice took my breath away. "Hi!" I replied,
almost whispering.
"Listen," she said, sounding very excited. "I'm having a
>party at home tonight. Be there at eight."
"Sure," I replied.
"Ok, bye!" And she put the phone down.
I stood there for almost a minute, staring at the phone in my hand.
And then I stupidly said "Bye" to it.
I would have to reach the party early, to tell her in private. Or
should I say it right there in front of all the guests? Or after the
party, when we were cleaning up after everyone was gone?
And what was I going to get her? Should I get her anything at
>all? How
about flowers? Roses? Or was that too clichéd?
Orchids sounded better.
Or bluebells.
Or tulips.
Or cauliflower.
I checked my thoughts. No. Not cauliflower.
It's New Year.
A gift was definitely in order.
I could get her that moonstone pendant she liked so much.
But then it was a little flimsy as a gift.
It was really a toy more than a piece of jewellery.
But did it matter if she really liked it?
Should I get her a book instead?
Or a CD?
Or an earring?
Or should I make her something?
I thought about my artistic skills and decided that that was probably
not a good idea.
I spent so much time looking for a suitable gift all day that by the
time I decided that flowers would be a better option, all the florists had closed.
And it was also too late to try to get to her house early and catch her alone.
So I decided I'd tell her after the party when everyone was gone. And
that I wouldn't get her anything -- more because I couldn't, than
anything else.
Feeling like a fool, and extremely nervous, I reached her doorstep. I
was on time, but there didn't seem to be any noise coming from inside.
Maybe no one had turned up yet. After all, who came to a party on time?
I stood there and composed myself for a minute.
Then, reasonably confident that the turmoil I was going through
wouldn't show, I knocked.
She opened the door, but only a fraction.
She slid out without opening the door completely, handed me a
>piece of cloth, and told me to tie it around my eyes. "We're playing
>Blind Man's Buff," she said.
Meekly, I put the blindfold on, and she led me into the house. There
was silence, and no one was making a sound. Quite sneaky of
>everyone, I thought to myself.
She spun me around a little, and then made me stop.
She backed away, and then said from somewhere behind me, "Ok, you can
take it off now."
Though a little confused as to what version of Blind Man's Buff was
played after taking the blindfold off, I complied.
And as soon as I opened my eyes, I froze.
I was standing in the middle of her empty living room, and the lights
had all been turned off. But the room was brightly lit with dozens of
candles.
And on the wall in front of me, was a big poster with the following
words on it:
One year ago, this day we met.
There was an arrow pointing to the right, beside the poster.
So I turned. On the next wall were the words:
One year of friendship
One year of joy
One year of laughter
between a girl and a boy
One year of comfort
One year of closeness
One year of peace
and a whole lot of happiness
On the third wall, was:
One year or Six,
a lifetime it seems,
And yet, it feels just like yesterday
I turned to look at the fourth wall, and there, standing in front of
it, was she, holding up a poster in her hands that said:
I want to be this happy forever
Will You Marry Me?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
