Saturday, in a fit of passion no doubt induced by the known aphrodisiacal qualities of the chef's tasting menu at a restaurant called Jardiniere, Mr. Matthew Sargent - longtime boyfriend and all around good guy - took a knee at my side and pulled out a three-stone diamond and platinum ring, which I allowed him to place on my finger. Blinded by the brilliance of what can only be described as "quite arock!", I was unable to finish my maple cream tart and Hungarian Tokay. I will no doubt be dazzled for weeks.
My bling!
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