Justin Month, Day Thirty

That was me tonight, except about six years older with a martini glass and my girly frou-frou mango margarita. Mmm. Happy you month, baby.
Going to the Chapel by Lise
The proposal had gone like this:
Justin had got down on his knees in the middle of Lance's favorite restaurant in New York. "Lance," he had said, "there's a hundred people here, for your birthday, and they're all going to laugh at me if you say no," and then he pulled out a really nice ring, and then added, "and I can't take the ring back, so even if you say no, you'd better like the fucking ring."
Oh, Justin. There's nothing like a good author wallowing in her OTP, and Lise does it with an honest compassion that's absolutely charming.