Engagement ring with goofy guy looking at itHey-ho, happy readers! Have you found the love of your life? Not sure how to pop the question? Try the extra-special online proposals these couples made on LinkedIn, Angry Birds and the Craigslist Missed Connections section!

Professional Couple Connects...For Life

Leslie Carmichael was recently promoted: from Brian Castlehouse's long-term girlfriend to his wife.

Ms. Carmichael, 29, had been logging on to the professional networking site LinkedIn for six months, applying to new jobs as she sought a career change. "We'd eat dinner, compare stock quotes, and send our résumés around until midnight," she recalls fondly. "We're both workaholics and were really excited to see what new opportunities LinkedIn might offer."

But the going was tough: "There just aren't too many exciting jobs on that site," gripes Mr. Castlehouse, "so more often than not we'd get discouraged, bicker, and fall asleep on opposite sides of the bed, checking our Blackberries until we finally sank into a bitter kind of exhaustion."

Last Friday night, everything changed."He was urging me to apply for this crappy-sounding IT position," laughs Carmichael, "but then I saw the salary and was like, oh, wow, okay. I got pretty excited. Brian kept telling me to go to bed, that he was going to review some paperwork. I got into bed but I just kept thinking, wow, what if I really do get this job? Eventually I fell asleep, and the next morning, I saw a message scheduling a phone interview for that afternoon. I was freaking out. I really hate my current job."

The phone rang in Ms. Carmichael's study at 1 PM, while Mr. Castlehouse was allegedly vacuuming the foot mats in the couple's Volvo sedan. "I picked up and we went over my work history, just normal job-interview stuff," explains Ms. Carmichael, "and I was feeling really thrilled, like, I got this. Then, just before we hung up, the person on the line said, 'Leslie, this is Brian. Will you marry me?'"

Mr. Castlehouse was met with a few minutes of silence before his bride started to cry softly. "I knew she was surprised," he says with a grin. "She really believed that this was all about a life-changing career opportunity that she'd waited months -- or even years -- for. But it was even better: we were going to be married."

"I said yes," laughs Ms. Carmichael, "but it was a pretty dirty trick. I still wish I'd gotten that job."

"Well," says Mr. Castlehouse, "that job never existed in the first place."

"I wish it had," says Ms. Carmichael solemnly, "I wish I could have had both."

"But she couldn't have both," responds Mr. Castlehouse. "You can't have both," he says to his wife-to-be, and puts down his smartphone to deliver her a consolatory kiss.


Lady in Starbucks

A Missed Connection Becomes a Mrsed Connection

Donald Adeshek, 32, found a wealth of inspiration for his screenplays using the Craigslist Missed Connections board. "I'd just browse," he explains, "to try to think up characters for my next screenplay. I wasn't looking for anything other than that." But he found something much more than that: a marriage proposal.

"I was just looking," he says, "not planning to see anything about myself or post anything, obviously, just kind of creeping around without any bad intentions, especially without the intention of cheating on my girlfriend Sally. And then I saw it: Studio City Starbucks, w4m."

Girlfriend Sally Sneed, 33, admits that she knew the post would catch Mr. Adeshek's eye. "He reads those things all day long, because of his screenplays," she explains. "And he's always at Starbucks. There is no way he'd have missed the connection." But for a moment, at least, he did: "I heard him in the other room high-fiving himself. That's what he always does when there's a missed connection from somewhere he's been recently."

"I read the post," says Mr. Adeshek, "and knew immediately it was for me. Staring at me at Starbucks was the title. I thought it was from this girl I'd been staring at at Starbucks, trying to get her to missed-connection me, so I could use it for my writing. But then it went on: Donald Adeshek, you brilliant screenscribe, will you marry me?"

"I got so many responses," says Ms. Sneed, "most of them said something like, 'You mean me? But my name isn't Donald Adeshek!' There are a lot of screenwriters at Starbucks, so that was expected. The funny thing was, it took him a minute to figure out that I had posted the proposal."

"I'm a fairly well-respected screenwriter," says Mr. Adeshek, "so it seemed possible that this was from a fan or an ex or something."

He responded to the posting, "Who is this?"

Ms. Sneed was unoffended. "I jumped into the room and said, 'It's me, silly!' He was totally shocked. He said yes, on the condition that I forward him all of the other responses to the ad."

"I was only curious if there might be some material I could use in my writing," says Mr. Adeshek, kissing his bride-to-be's nose, "not for anything creepy, or anything."


Love Birds

"She's addicted to this puzzle game/App thing called Angry Birds--" begins Thomas Asarnow of Brooklyn, NY.

"Not addicted," corrects his girlfriend Corinne McCutcheon, "I just do it when I'm on the subway or whatever."

Mr. Asarnow, a software developer, said it was pretty obvious how to propose to his competitive fiancee: invade the game. "When she's playing," he explains, "you really can't get her attention. Which, by the way, is fine because I'm usually mapping out my fantasy drafts during any and all downtime I have. The crux of this app is that you throw these birds at pigs --"

"-- don't try to explain it. You have to play to understand," interrupts Ms. McCutcheon. "It sounds really lame when you explain it. It's a very complex game."

And Mr. Asarnow was about to find out just how complicated: "I had to hack into the database," he says. "And now there's kind of a big lawsuit about it."

"Well, it crashed the system," says Ms. McCutcheon.

"It did, but not until I'd Photoshopped her head onto one of the birds and inserted diamond rings around all of the pig's necks!" cackles Mr. Asarnow.

"And this banner came up: Corinne, will you marry me? I just about died." Ms. McCutcheon pauses. "But then the game crashed and everyone on the internet was like, 'Who's Corinne? Where does she live? I'll kill her if I can't have my app back,' et cetera. I lost my game. I was pretty far along."

But she gained a husband-to-be: "I'm making her her own app to make up for it," coos Mr. Asarnow. "You throw these little Corinnes at meteors and try to get them to explode."

The lawsuit is still pending.