Nathan Fernsten

Now, you have to realize, I had absolutely no idea as to how I would proceed to ask Rachel for her hand in marriage. Pace, Rachel’s brother-in-law, had advised that regardless of how I decided to ask, it was mandatory that the proposal be memorable. With Rachel undoubtedly regurgitating the story to her giddy gal-pal’s at the Utah College of Dental Hygiene on an hourly basis, I knew the stakes were high.

With less than seven days until e-day (engagement day), I had accomplished nothing with regards to the proposal. No flight, no plans, and no fatherly permission. Nothing. Perhaps some cold feet had set in, but I reminded myself that I knew that this was the right thing to do. I bartered for a Southwest travel voucher to take some hurt off of the last minute airfare and placed a request with Rachel’s father for a secret rendezvous of sorts so that I could ask his permission for his number one daughter’s hand in marriage (sorry Joy and Jessica). Phil was kind enough to accommodate my procrastinational tendencies, and we set a time to meet at the LDS Oakland Temple. As a side note, I do not think that there is a more appropriate place on earth for a father to meet with a daughter’s potential suitor.

After the grilling by Rachel’s father (I kid, he was very kind and our conversation was a great experience) I ran home and placed a phone call to the Stein Eriksen Lodge in Park City. You see, Stein Eriksen Lodge is the home of Glitretind: one of two five-star restaurants within the blessed borders of the Republic of Utah. May the richest blessings of heaven be poured upon the young man with whom I spoke that evening. After explaining that I would be joining by then girlfriend (soon to be ex-girlfriend . . . you know, fiancé . . . . yes, Casey Jackman, that one was for you) for a meal within the confines of his fine dining establishment for the purposes of asking for her delicate hand in marriage, he asked “When will you be doing this?” “Tomorrow” I replied. Like a great teammate he exclaimed “Let’s do it!” I felt as if I had received a sports friendly slap on the rear. You know, the kind from your buddy after you hit the game winning home run.

The next morning, though I longed to attend my lecture in civil procedure at the University of California Hastings College of Law with none other than the ever-wise and eternally Socratic Professor Richard Marcus, alas, I had to cut class to make my flight. Missing lecture made that great day even better. In typical Fernsten fashion, I arrived at the airport with less than thirty minutes before my departure. I sprinted, in blazer and dress shirt (with a tube of tooth paste that was larger than 3.4 ounces and was not in a sealed plastic bag) through security and toward plane. Though I had strongly considered accosting one of those fine gentlemen who drive the luxurious airport carts through the facility, I managed to rumble up to the gate under my own steam power. Legs burning and arm pits heavily perspiring, I managed to secure an entire row to myself on the plane. I wanted to sleep, but my heart was working double-time: part run, part nerves.

Well, as most, if not all of you already know, Rachel T and I got engaged on November 6. Now, I had previously attempted to offer some sort of record of the events surrounding the engagement, but had failed to enable the automatic saving of drafts in the software I use to publish blog posts. With the revelation that Rachel is now just two blog posts behind (we have a longstanding one-to-one agreement on the number of posts we publish) I felt that now would be an ideal time to transcribe the story. That, and I am sitting on a train for the next 40 minutes.

When Rachel and I were beginning to weigh the prospects of an eternal union, I toyed with the idea of deferring law school for a year to accelerate our courtship. UC Hastings, the radically liberal think tank which I attend (and on a side note, this is the same think tank which consumes more than enough income from its stewards on an annual basis to purchase a small country), thought otherwise of my decision to defer. Their response to my inquiry of deferral was simply “No, and if you decide to reapply, you could lose any and all funding currently being offered to you.” Needless to say, much prayer and supplication was offered in an attempt to determine what my future would hold. Rachel and I made the joint decision that I would attend law school and we would continue our relationship from a distance.

Now, for those of you who have lived with or around any substantial population of Latter-day saint females, once the prospect of marriage becomes a legitimate probability, a feverish clamor begins to overcome them. Ok, ok, I may be taking this a little too far, but Rachel was (as was I, and still maintain to be) excited to engaged. Having decided to live apart for the duration of my first year of law school, Rachel had made a request that our engagement occur sooner rather than later. Requests were made for a proposal to occur in August, and those requests were quickly followed by requests of a proposal in September and subsequently in October. In public I lamented over the lack of financial ability to secure that expensive piece of earth-hardened charcoal which all young ladies lust after. In reality, the ring had been purchased in August (Yes, I am sure that my excessive haggling caused the gentlemen I worked with at Wilson Diamonds to incur substantial arterial damage, but I definitely walked away from the store with the deal of a lifetime on the condition that I purchase no later than five days after my magical negotiation session). Why did I not ask Rachel for her hand in marriage sooner? Sometimes it is just plain fun to let excitement build to the point of nervously chaotic anticipation.

As October began to draw to a close, I subtly laid hints to Rachel that my financial situation would not permit the purchase of anything even remotely resembling a woman’s best friend until the holidays. Although I felt the time to propose was quickly nearing, I entered this phase without even an inkling as to how I would proceed. I mentioned in passing to Rachel that my scheduled Utah trip for the weekend of November 6 would need to be delayed due to an unforeseen Saturday review session. As her eyes glanced downward upon revelation of the “news,” I could feel her disappointment radiate through the room. Our engagement had been set in motion . . .

Well, what has been deemed to be a break has turned into a whirlwind of fun. I apologize for my lackadaisical blogging efforts, but my life has not slowed down for a moment since finals ended two weeks ago. I’ve been to a cheese factory, torn my car apart, received wedding-oriented Christmas gifts and much, much more. Please forgive me for my inability to keep you all up to date in a timely fashion. Once the drudgery of school re-enters my life I am confident that this blog will once again be bustling.

I’ve never tried this stuff, but apparently Jamba Juice has set the standard as far as oatmeal goes. The coupon is good from December 7 through December 11. Get your oatmeal on!