Nathan Fernsten

Is that the school has a spring break. This might in fact be the only good thing about the school.

I know it is still the preseason and all, but my boys worked the Angels today. Baseball always brings back that nostalgic feeling of summer. I can’t wait!

Do you remember that time that there was a large man who reeked of marijuana on your train? You know who I am talking about, the one who was obviously baked and was lighting matches and smoking cigarettes on my morning commute? Yes, that one. Next time someone calls to complain to the train operator about situations such as this, could you please advise the operator to stop the train and have the individual removed rather than ignoring the situation?

Sincerely

Nathan

First, I would like to offer my sincerest apologies! Apparently in my bid to create a link at the top of my blog that takes my faithful and beloved readers to all five posts of my engagement story (sorted in ascending order by date), I broke my comment function! Have no fear though, thanks to the prowess of my bride-to-be, I have fixed the issue at hand and all may now freely comment. Comment on my dear friends, comment on.

Little Miss Rachel likely broke every traffic law in the state of Utah as she raced to Park City to meet me at the Stein Eriksen lodge. As she walked up the stairs, my heart may have skipped a beat or two . . . part nerves and part excitement. She looked beautiful. We walked hand-in-hand to the hostess and I gave her my name for our reservations. The hostess should definitely consider a career in acting as she gave absolutely no indication that she had ever spoken to me before (this was the same woman that I gave the flowers to and who familiarized me with the restaurant and potential locations to propose to Rachel).

We were seated at our table, and as I looked at Rachel I noticed that she seemed slightly flustered. Her palms were definitely clamy and her heart was beating uncontrollably fast. She asked what I was doing in Utah, and I expressed that I wanted to surprise her with a visit. I’m sure she was hoping for the proposal, in fact, I knew she was, but I made every effort to defer any serious conversation. Instead, we commenced in small talk, placed an order for appetizers. My goal was to continue our chit chat until I could see all hope beginning to fade from her countenance. It was also imperative that I delay asking for her hand in marriage because my plan was to ask her on a secluded outdoor porch that wrapped around the building. The railing was adorned by a single strand of large-bulbed lights. I had asked the hostess several times to ensure that the lights were turned on, and she had done her due diligence in calling maintenance, yet they were still dark.

As I began to come to the realization that I would need to ask Rachel, lights or no lights, I glanced out the window and, accompanied by the melodic voices of hundreds of singing angels, the lights magically turned on! It was time. I suggested that we take a walk outside to look at the stars, and Rachel cordially obliged. Immediately upon turning the corner to our private part of the balcony, Rachel showered me with hugs, kisses, giggles, and other generally mushy things. She expressed her gratitude and surprise at my covert trip to Park City.

While Rachel in my arms, I whispered to her that I had one last surprise. Her body immediately tensed. I asked her to close her eyes, and after some additional encouragement, she finally shut them and I began to kneel down. Before I could make it to one knee, Rachel exclaimed that I better not be pulling her leg. I believe that it was  at this point that she began to squirm around a bit. After getting out the ring (I had kept the box tucked away in my sock for fear that Rachel’s touchy feely tendencies would lead her to graze it and ruin my surprise), I held the open box in front of me, allowed her to open her eyes, and then asked for her hand in marriage.

I lost track of exactly how many times she said yes, but it was most certainly exclaimed more than once! I stood up only to be secured by a hug that I have affectionately termed “the bouncing death grip.” I was being shaken to the point were flashbacks from the 1989 San Francisco earthquake began to replay through my mind. What Rachel didn’t realize throughout the course of our celebration, was that the ring was still exposed to the world in the open box which I was now carefully balancing behind her back. I slowly peeled Rachel away and slid the ring onto her finger. We hugged, we smiled, we hugged, we kissed, we hugged, we spoke, and we hug some more.

As we made our way back into the restaurant, the hostess and our waitress were quick to offer their congratulations. The bouquet of flowers that I had purchased for Rachel were no prominently displayed on our table. As we sat down to begin our meal, I breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was perfect. I was finally engaged to the love of my life.