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The Topless Wedding Proposal And Declarations Of Love

Illustration for article titled The Topless Wedding Proposal And Declarations Of Love

Seth Rogen says he proposed to his girlfriend while she was topless, in the closet. We can't always choose how these things happen.

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Said Rogen, on Conan,

She was in our closet changing, and she was literally only in her underpants, and her boobs were out," he said. "I'd already kind of started, and I was like 'Oh man, her boobs are out! That's not part of the plan!' I didn't picture it like this, and I know she didn't picture it like this. No little girl is like 'It'll happen in a closet with my t**s out.'

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We're sure she's happy to have everyone know that. But the truth is, even those of us who didn't devote our childhoods to imagining the proposal can be taken aback by, ahem, underwhelming circumstances. A friend of mine was proposed to unexpectedly with her boyfriend's high-school class ring. While he had an ironic mustache. Let's just say shaving it was a condition of acceptance. My fianceThe gentleman is now clean-shaven.

We're living in a weird time: on the one hand, reality shows extol proposals of such elaborate preposterousness that no normal couple can compete. On the other hand, most of the people I know — those who didn't just talk it out, that is — got engaged under circumstances that were casual, to say the least. For those of us who consider the engagement ritual an anachronism (but still secretly kind of like it) we're still working out a new template — which, as in Rogen's case, is generally personal and frequently idiosyncratic. (Or maybe this is the wave of the future.)


Seth Rogen's Girlfriend Was Topless When He Proposed (VIDEO) [Huffington Post]

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DISCUSSION

Yay, I love engagement stories! My turn!

My husband is originally from Goa, India. We had already been together almost 9 months and were pretty serious (which was new for me because I was never serious with any of my boyfriends). He had invited me many times to meet his family, but I couldn't get away for the amount of time he wanted. So, he went first for a month, then I followed and got to stay for about 1.5 weeks.

So, I show up and his family is amazing. No stereo-typical Sari-claden Indian mother-in-law wagging her finger at me for being too American. No one speaking Hindi behind my back as if I didn't exist. All the movies I had ever watched about Indians were wrong and I was immediately accepted into his family. His little nephew even started calling me "Aunty" in a sweet little, sing-song Indian accent.

Then, one day, I, my husband (boyfriend at the time), his brother and his wife all drive down to the market to run errands. Eventually, my husband and his brother go into a restaurant and my sister-in-law and I are sitting in the car chatting. I asked her if we're going to take food home to eat. She looks at me oddly and says that this was for the party and why didn't I know about it? Then she catches herself and realizes that she just spilled the damn beans on the SURPRISE engagement party that my husband had been planning for a whole month. I promised her I would play dumb and after a few days, nothing happened and I forgot about it.

Then, one afternoon, my husband and I take a ride on the back of an old motorcycle to Anjuna Beach which is very famous for it's market, hippies, and other crazy crap. We hang at a small restaurant with chairs buried in the sand and begin drinking lots of Kingfisher beer, shooing off beggars, and making fun of unshaven, stinky hippies. Then, as I'm trying to get up and having a rough time from one-too many beers, my husband drops down on one knee and proposes. I said yes, of course, but then realized that he didn't have a ring. I didn't ask because I knew we were both poor (he was a waiter with two jobs and I was a bartender) and, knowing the man he is, I figured it would come around some time and that I would take the man over the metal any day.

So, by that time it was evening (and VERY VERY dark) and all the vendors from the markets are packing up and heading out. The roads are swollen so badly with trucks and cycles that we literally have to squeeze between front grills and back bumpers while families of 7-8 hang off the sides. After nearly being hit by every form of TATA car available in India, we finally found our motorbike and then realized we both had to pee-BAD!

The only nearest place was a god-damned rice patty out in the middle of nowhere. So with the Indian moonlight on our asses, we spent our first evening pissing in a patty and then running like crazy when I stepped on what felt like a fucking snake. After tripping and scraping my knee, then burning my leg on the side of the motorcycle from one of the hot parts (the exhaust pipe? I don't remember), we finally head back for the long two hour drive on the back of the motorcycle in the middle of Indian rice patties with my panties sopped from a poor piss job and my knee bleeding and bugs in my hair.

THEN, after we get home, we walk in the house and about 50-60 Indians jump out of the cracks in the living room and yell SURPRISE!!! Even the family priest was there in his Catholic glory, trying to hold a smile while I looked like a wretch.

With piss and blood running down my leg, I look over on the table and, on a silk cushion, I see a custom-made, 22k yellow-gold ring with two engraved heats and several rubies set inside the hearts. Next to it is my mother-in-law's 50-year old diamond wedding ring that she had cleaned and fitted to my size because she knew we couldn't afford wedding rings.

I married the man right there and then in his mother's living room, in the middle of the night, in the middle of India. The highlight of the night was when my mother-in-law shed a tear after I called her "Mami" for the first time.