How Was Your Question Popped?

A cousin of August's just got engaged. His proposal was sweet, but not my style. Not that he consulted me. Many of my friends' husbands went all out for the event: one arranged to have a third party turn on a CD player so there was a soundtrack. Another actually had a family member videotape it, which violates all my notions of proper romance.

August's proposal, on the other hand, was like most everything he does: simple and to the point. We hadn't seen one another for an entire month, and he surprised me with a visit sooner than I was expecting him. We went to a house and garden that was open to the public but deserted on that particular day. (August of course didn't bribe the owners to turn everyone else away. Probably.) Did I know what was up? Well, yes. I even knew the spot where he was going to take me -- beside the lake with the weeping willow -- because we'd spent a lot of time there on previous trips.

So when we got to the enclosed courtyard with the fountain, I was unprepared when August knelt down in front of me. He condensed the question into, oh, two sentences. My answer was one word, but it was the right one. We lived happily ever after and got married two months later.

So I started wondering what sort of proposal story others have. If you don't mind sharing, how did you Get the Question? Or was it an understood thing that never formally got Asked? Or did you, flouting convention, Ask Him? It's a grey midwinter day here and I've got a cold, so I need some romance to brighten the day.

Further Questioning

Yes, yes, I should be writing, not blogging. Stop nagging.

So my highly unofficial findings indicate that we assume that nice people look something like ourselves. Interesting. Here's my next question: How do we imagine beautiful people? (Assuming we don't consider ourselves the epitome of beauty.) Below is a quick sketch -- primarily dialogue, because anytime I sit down with two characters they can talk for pages without actually accomplishing anything. Read the sketch, and then answer the question below. No talking, no looking at your neighbor's paper, and spit out that gum!


***
"I hope you don't mind. You're having a visitor today," said Lacey, comfortably installing herself in her brother-in-law's favorite chair. "You're going to meet the love of your life."

Jonathan peered around the kitchen doorway, looking grumpy. "Since when did I ask you to look for the love of my life?"

"I wasn't looking. But my cousin Delaney is flying in today. I told her Chris was tending to your sick laptop so we'd be here, and gave her directions."

"This relates to my love life how?"

"When you see Delaney, you'll fall in love. Men always do. That's just what happens." She shot a glance at her husband, Jonathan's brother, who was bent over the laptop. "Even Chris is pretty starstruck when she's around. Aren't you, Chris?"

"If you think," Chris said, not looking up, "that I'm even going to pretend that I heard that question, you're wrong."

Jonathan came out carrying a tray of iced tea, which he served to Lacey and Chris before sitting down with his own. Lacey looked him over appraisingly. "I've wanted you and Delaney to meet for a while, anyway. You're a catch yourself. Good-looking, can cook, and even cleaned your apartment today."

"I have no interest in meeting your cousin."

"Well, I can't help that. She's coming in, like, ten minutes. You'll see how uninterested you are then."

"Don't sound so depressed about it. Are you jealous of her, Lacey? Oh, come on."

Lacey sighed. "I know, it's stupid. I'm perfectly happy with Chris..."

"Thank you," said Chris.

"... but still, I wouldn't mind knowing that there are a couple of guys who break out the hard liquor every year on my wedding anniversary. When Delaney marries, she'll singlehandedly push the whiskey market into a boom. Oh, stop sneering. I'm right. You'll see."

The doorbell rang, and Lacey jumped to her feet. But Jonathan, determined to show how unimpressed he was at the prospect of this modern-day Aphrodite, pushed her back in her chair. "I can answer my own door, thank you."

He walked confidently to the door and opened it wide. "Hello?" he said. And that was as far as he got.

A woman was standing on his doorstep. From the toes of her red vintage pumps to the silky lock of hair falling into her luminous eyes, she was beautiful. She smiled nervously at Jonathan. It was a dazzling smile. "Hi, I'm Delaney... Lacey's cousin? I really hope you're Jonathan."

"Yes, I'm Jonathan. Um, good to meet you... Delaney, did you say your name was?"

She smiled with relief. "Yes! I shouldn't have worried, of course. Lacey's directions are always right."

"Yes," Jonathan agreed, feeling a little dizzy. "Lacey is usually right."

***

Question: What does Delaney look like?

An Important Notice and a Less-Important Question

Notice:
If I'm going to finish that blasted novel by the end of next month, when my mother comes to visit, I'm going to have to spend pretty much all my computer time working on it. So I'll be a little scarce in the blogworld for a bit. Don't give up on me -- I'll drop in as often as I can.

Question:
I'm reading a name book called "The Baby Name Survey Book." (My question is not, "Isn't that a surprise?") The premise of the book is that it tells you what people actually think of each name, in their very own words. Their very own words are, for the most part, "This name makes me think of somebody snobby and selfish." What I've noticed -- and I'm getting to my question here, for anyone still hanging around -- is that for girl names they like, those surveyed almost always identify her as "blond." Sometimes you get a redhead, and occasionally a brunette. But for the most part, the nice girls are blond.

So, my question! What is your default image of someone nice? For instance, when you read a blog you like. If there's no picture to clue you in, do you imagine the blogger as blond or dark-haired? I almost always assume someone is dark-haired. I know a whole lot more dark-haired people than blond people. How do you imagine me? Naturally -- you'd say red-haired, dazzling green eyes, cute turned-up nose, light dusting of freckles. At least, all of you who have been reading romance novels lately.

(P.S. -- I have short brown hair, glasses, and a dimple when I smile.)