So fueled on two months worth of Top Ramen consumed to save money and a 14 hour flight seated in front of a screaming three year old we landed at Charles De Gaulle. Add to that one Rastafarian cab ride (that's right, our Parisian cabby bumped Bob Marley all over town) and a snafu in the apartment lobby (who knew they have doors that lock you in as well as out!).
That's when things started to get really weird. We ate croissants at 3 a.m. with some French version of milk that was warm, and wouldn't be recognized by any cow native to the United States. We watched BBC coverage of the Japanese Tsunami. We saw a mouse in a restaurant. We roamed Paris during the day checking out sights and maneuvering the metro. We roamed Paris at night after a bottle of wine and took in all the sparkling lights.
It was weird because the whole time, John kept looking at me like I was a juicy steak. Like I held the promise of a million tomorrows. Not his normal stare. I think I asked him "what?" about 500 times.
And then I knew. At around midnight the day before our last in Paris. We had finished our nightly adventures throughout town and were heading into the lobby of our apartment. John pulled me outside and said it was time for my anniversary present(I had been harassing him about this the entire trip, aren't I charming?)He hugged me and told me to close my eyes. His heart was beating wildly. I opened them and he was on his knee in the middle of the empty courtyard in front of our apartment. He asked me to marry him. I said yes.
After questioning him multiple times if this was all real.