The Cupcake's Engagement Story

On February 10, 2007, Mr. Cupcake and I had plans to meet two of our friends at Monk’s, a great Belgian bar in Center City Philadelphia. We took a cold walk to the train station in our quaint little town to catch a train into the city, arriving early enough to walk around before meeting our friends. Since we had some time to spare, Mr. Cupcake suggested that we head over to the municipal building, where there are life-sized game pieces surrounding the building.

You see, three years prior, Mr. Cupcake and I ventured to this same place only a few months into our relationship; after spontaneously hopping a train from Manayunk to Center City on a lazy Sunday afternoon, we enjoyed lunch at Fado and strolled from the municipal building and City Hall down towards the Kimmel Center, talking and people-watching. We took fun pictures with the giant gamepieces at the municipal building and enjoyed each other’s company; something happened that day that could never truly be explained, and the day became known as “the day we fell in love.”

Miss Cupcake and a big ol' Sorry gamepiece, four years ago

Mr. Cupcake chillin' with the Monopoly wheelbarrow

"Love".... awwww....

Fast-forward to February 2007, and we were in the same place on a bit of a colder day, me with my camera in-hand (as usual). Upon arrival at the area surrounding the municipal building, a man asked Mr. Cupcake for some change for bus fare — always willing to lend a hand, Mr. Cupcake gave the man some change from his pocket. The man thanked him, and, seeing my camera, asked if he could take a picture of Mr. Cupcake “and his wife.” We told him we weren’t married, and the man said “well, you should marry her!” and moved on to catch his bus.

After that encounter (which I pretty much just laughed off), we perused the area and recreated some of the amusing photos we had taken three years earlier. After laughing and being silly as usual, Mr. Cupcake suddenly got a little serious and sentimental while sitting on the giant domino. He expressed his feelings for me, and reminded me of what this place meant to us and our relationship. Then, he got down on one knee, and popped the big question! After a brief moment of shock and disbelief, I happily accepted his proposal (and a stunning ring!).

Miss Cupcake and the Sorry gamepiece, four years later

He still can't lift it! ;-)

Getting the "strength" to propose...

It's official! The future Mr. & Mrs. Cupcake, in front of City Hall

After making some freezing cold phone calls to family, we excitedly headed down to Fado to get warm since there was still some time before we had to meet our friends at Monk's. On our way there, Mr. Cupcake told me that four more of our friends (including the two whose Halloween party we had met at) were also joining us to celebrate. We ended up remaining at Fado, and we were able to enjoy such a wonderful day with six amazing friends.

The surprises didn’t end there: upon our arrival at home that night, Mr. Cupcake got out a bottle of champagne and some toasting flutes that his excited co-workers had gotten for us, and he told me that he had arranged for his parents and grandmother to join us at Mama Cupcake's house for brunch the next morning. He thought of everything! I was so impressed at how well Mr. Cupcake planned the whole thing out, and I know I will always look back on that day fondly.

Broken Home Bride

When I was ten years old, the unthinkable happened: my parents got divorced. Divorce is one of those things that a kid never imagines can happen to their parents, and, for me personally, it pretty much came out of nowhere and I was shocked. Granted, I was ten, so my "shock" came out more like stubborn tears and awkwardness in school when I had to tell my friends. But nonetheless, it was completely unexpected and felt surreal.

Since then, I have come to realize that we are all better off since the divorce. My dad is remarried, my mom has an amazing man in her life, and my brother and I were lucky enough to have two parents who stayed civil with one another for our sake and never, ever fought in front of us. We are all who we are today as a result of that decision; now it is hard to imagine that my parents were ever married to each other because they have grown to be very different people, but I think that proves that they weren't meant to stay together. It is strange that I really don't remember what it was like to have parents who were married, aside from a few very vague memories from my childhood.

Now that I'm engaged and starting to plan a wedding and, more importantly, a future with Mr. Cupcake, I have to admit that I get a little scared sometimes. Not only did my parents get divorced, but pretty much every aunt and uncle in my family also got divorced. I come from not only a broken home, but a broken extended family! On the contrary, Mr. Cupcake comes from a (very large) extended family where all of the married couples have stayed married; divorce doesn't even seem to be an option in their minds. I obviously think that is wonderful and I admire that, but it makes me wonder how so many marriages in one family — my family — could have failed. I can't help but wonder: is divorce in our genes??

I don't mean to sound cryptic, as I hope that divorce is never something I will have to deal with. But no one really expects it, do they? No one says, "I think I'll give this marriage a good 5 or 6 years and then move on."

Mr. Cupcake and I have been together for over four years and we have learned how to deal with conflict in a mostly adult way (I said mostly ;-) ). But sometimes I feel like I'm kind of learning as I go, whereas maybe he has had better married role models. I am going to put everything I have into making sure this one keeps, and I hope that someday we can be role models for our own kids when it comes to making a marriage work.

How have divorces of the people in your life affected your own views on marriage?

How the Cupcakes Met

The story of how Mr. Cupcake and I met is a good one, so I thought I'd share it with you Weddingbee readers to help you get to know us :-)

On Friday, October 31, 2003, the last thing I wanted to do was go to a Halloween party. I had had a long day at work, fell asleep on the couch for a few hours, and woke up cranky (yes, I'm like a toddler — don't expect me to be nice for the first hour after I've awoken from a nap!). I called Mama Cupcake and was complaining that I didn't want to go to the two costume parties I had committed to, but she gave me a typical mom pep talk and told me that if I told my friends I'd be at their parties, then I really should go. Plus, I had another friend that was planning to come to the second party with me, and it would be rude to cancel on her. If we weren't having fun, we could always make an early exit, but I had to at least show my face.

So, I got into my homemade Violet Beauregard costume (you know, the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka... but I was the cute version of her, pre-blueberry-blowup!), and went with my roommate (dressed as Veruca Salt) to her boyfriend's party (he was — you guessed it! — a rather tall Oompa Loompa). I pepped up a little bit and was feeling better, so I started to look forward to party #2. I went home to meet up with my other friend, and we made our way to the second party that was just a few blocks away from my apartment in the Manayunk neighborhood of Philadelphia.

Aside from the hostesses (one of whom I had worked with at my last job) and the friend I brought with me, I knew no one at this second party. I knew I had to make my own fun and strike up conversations with new people, which is sometimes hard for me, but on this particular night I turned into Little Miss Social. I had noticed my hostess friend's beer pong partner (yes, there was beer pong — cut me some slack, we were 23!); I thought he was cute, but didn't give too much thought to him at the time. I always get some laughs when I tell people what he was wearing: a mullet wig, bright orange Nascar hat, a beer logo t-shirt, pegged jeans, and work boots. That's right, ladies — I was able to look past the costume and still somehow find this man attractive!

A little while into the party, I found myself standing next to this same party guest while waiting in line for the bathroom. I had seen another partygoer dressed as Garth from the SNL skit “Wayne’s World,” so I asked if he was supposed to be Garth’s best friend, Wayne. He misheard and thought I asked if he was “waiting.”

“Yes, I’m waiting,” he responded. (Probably thinking, why else would I be in line for the bathroom, genius?)

“No, are you WAYNE — from Wayne’s World?” I asked.

“Oh, no,” he said. “I’m just your basic white trash.”

And with that, the Cupcake romance began!

We crossed paths a little while later at the party, and after talking and laughing for quite a while, we decided to walk down to a local bar, Flatrock, to get drinks with some other people. After being impressed by my request for a Newcastle Brown Ale, Mr. Cupcake assured me that his mullet hairdo was just a wig, and we continued to talk the night away. I found out that he went to college with the hostesses of the party, and was visiting from out of town for the night.

At the end of the evening, Mr. Cupcake told me he would like to come down to take me out the next Friday night; we exchanged phone numbers, and I made my way home, text messaging him a goodnight message when I got home. Apparently not able to wait a whole week, he called me the following night to let me know he had decided to stay in town for the weekend, and we made plans to meet on Main Street in Manayunk the next day, Sunday. We sat outside of a local restaurant/bar, Thomas’, on a beautiful fall day, talking and laughing, before he drove me home on his way out of town. He promised to call me mid-week to talk about our date plans for the following weekend.

Mr. Cupcake stayed true to his word and called later in the week to finalize plans to go out the next Friday; our first “official” date was dinner at Le Bus in Manayunk, followed by another stop at Flatrock where Mr. Cupcake told me he couldn’t “do this every weekend” (meaning drive down to see me). But I guess he liked me enough that he changed his mind, because without prodding, he traveled four boring hours round trip on the Pennsylvania Turnpike almost every weekend to see me for the next two years, before he moved to be closer to me. Those first two years were sometimes difficult and frustrating, but it was a true test of our feelings for each other, and it taught us how much we really loved each other and how much we wanted to build a future together.

The moral of the story is: listen to your mother, and follow-through on plans you committed to even if you feel too tired to go. I sure am glad I went to that Halloween party!!!! ;-)