life as understood

Apparently, telling people that as of a week ago, my current status is "not NOT engaged" seemed to raise more questions than answers. And they weren't even questions like "When's the big day?" or "Congratulations." They were questions like "what?". Oh well. To clear things up once and for all, yes, Sarah and I are engaged. To be married. And to answer the next question: We're shooting for May 3, but it's still a bit up in the air, due to our strictly regimented summer plans. We'll see. But we'll be sure to let you know.

About the engagement itself? Yes, well, I had known for a while of Sarah's desire to ride in a horse-drawn carriage sometime, and knowing that such an opportunity exists in downtown Salt Lake City, I figured that would be a special and classy way to do it. Now, I wanted very much to retain some semblance of surprise, so in the midst of wondering how to get her down to Salt Lake, we were offered Jazz tickets. I promptly called up the carriage service and arranged for a 10:00 ride up to Memory Grove, just up City Creek Canyon above downtown. For those that have never been there, it's a beautiful private park near the capitol building with monuments and stunning views of the valley. Anyhow, the game was great, and largely uneventful, except for the white gold ring getting me stopped at the metal detector on the way in. Miraculously, Sarah, who had already gone through toward the door, didn't notice my hasty, whispered explanation to the security guard. Thank goodness he trusted me. For future reference, that excuse seems to work. So, the game was wonderful. We beat the Bucks. Anyway, afterward, we walked toward Temple Square, where I nonchalantly hailed a horseman, and he steered us up the canyon toward the grove. Sarah was delighted at the surprise, which she took to be nothing more than the carriage ride. At the apex of the hill inside the grove, however, I mentioned about another surprise, and awkwardly removed a ring box from my left jacket pocket.

It's nice being engaged. It's only been a week, and I've only been able to introduce her as my fiancee a couple of times, but it's been wonderful knowing that it's a step toward eternal permanence. I couldn't be happier. She's absolutely wonderful. She's my best friend. She makes the prospect of marriage seem not only passable, but quite desirable. So this is my fiancee, Sarah. I love her.

Well, I'm a week into the new semester, and I've already lost control of my spare time, meaning that is essentially doesn't exist- or at least, it shouldn't. The first week was particularly stressful, as I had to try to add three classes to my schedule, for various reasons. I've never had to try to add a class late before. Miraculously, I made it into all of them, despite the English advisor's best efforts to prolong my education indefinitely. Usually, at the beginning of a new semester, I find myself thoroughly entertained by my classes, which case is no different now. I wield a general excitement for the most newfound of learning for a few short weeks, at which point the monotony and stress of an 18-credit load inevitably prevail. But now a slight week in, I'm experiencing quite a novel sensation. My excitement has just been completely superseded by something even greater. Uncle Ken called me a couple days ago and said that F. Ross Peterson, the then-history professor, now-administrator who lured me to USU initially, wants to have an article written for the alumni magazine about my dad and uncles' recent work in Africa, and he wants me to write it. As if this news wasn't good enough, I met with Dr. Peterson yesterday, and he wants to send me with a photographer to Mozambique sometime this semester to write it. When I got home, Steve played Toto's "Africa" for me. He doesn't like to travel much, but he loves his friends even more than he lets on. At one point last night during the movie, sitting with Sarah on the love sac, with Steve and my other best friends surrounding, I had to seriously think things through sequentially to ensure that I wasn't dreaming. Dr. Peterson, the photographer, and probably Ken, and I will be meeting next week to discuss particulars and hash out a plan for the trip. Someday I'd really like to do something big and important that hasn't come to me by virtue of membership in my family- something by my own merits- but maybe this article and opportunity will be somewhat of a stepping stone out into that. I'm gonna take some time to do the things we never had. I guess I can't complain about being blessed.