Whoa. Once in a Blue Moon.

Last night was a blue moon, the second full moon in a calendar month.

Coincidentally, my boyfriend asked me to marry him. After five and a half years of talking about it, surprisingly, he has taken action.

I have been hoping for an engagement for what seems like ages. I've pouted, demanded and feigned disinterest. Then, on a business trip to Chicago, I decided that I wasn't really interested in getting married. You see, it occurred to me that if I got married, I'll have to get a house. And a dog. And produce a kid. And probably have to learn how to cook. Getting married, it occurred to me, could quite possibly ruin my carrier.

So, the gods laugh.

That same week, during my business trip to Chicago, my boyfriend realizes that, "Whoa, we've been dating for 5 years. The perfect moment to ask for her hand will never, ever present itself. I guess it's time to just do it."

The gods laugh harder.

When I came home the house was clean. There was Champaign in the refrigerator. There is my favorite meal on the stove. Clean sheets on the bed.

The gods are rolling now.

And he asks me. And yeah, I said yes. (albeit a little irritated)
Trumpets roar, streamers fly, rejoicing and singing and drinking follow.

The evidence is below.