Ok, so I was definitely wrong about posting every other day. Baseball is about to kill me, and so is this whole new way of testing kids at the end of the school year in Georgia. Yes, I am making excuses, and yes,I expect you to accept them.
Anyways, I have been having a hard time thinking of blog topics which is also a reason that I have been reluctant to post. Keeping that in mind, I figured I would go back in time and write about the beginning of my relationship with Lindsey- when it for sure became serious. Our engagement.
If you are about to stop reading because you think this is going to be one of those sappy posts, please don’t go. I promise it won’t be bad. I want to tell the story of the actual process of carrying out my plan, not the ushy-gushy reasons that I wanted to marry Linds. By the way, Lindsey says I don’t show enough emotion sometimes; go figure.
So, I had this grand scheme that involved a scavenger hunt to all of our memorable places, the last of which was Tybee Island. That’s right, a beach proposal. Go me. Anyways, I started off Lindsey’s scavenger hunt in the Residence Life Office at UNG. We were both RAs in college, and that was a big part of our college experience together, so it was only fitting to begin there. Then, I had her go to the Health and Natural Sciences building- the place we first met (it was BIO 1010 Environmental Science). Then, it was off to Taco Bell- our first hangout. Classy, I know. The final stop on Day 1 of the hunt led her to our first kiss in the rain- the reservoir in Dahlonega, Lake Zwerner. The clue she received at that stop led her to the first place we went to the beach together, Tybee Island.
The day of Lindsey’s initial scavenger hunt is the day my sister and I headed to Tybee Island, a six hour drive, to scope out locations for my proposal. I wanted everything to be perfect, so I made sure to take Breanna (my sister) to help me get everything ready, and I had some good friends (another) Lindsey and Ashley taking care of getting (my) Lindsey through the scavenger hunt and to Tybee Island in time. However, I digress; my sister and I find the perfect place for my proposal, and after playing on the beach and exploring a little, we head to the hotel.
Next day, (the other) Lindsey and I are texting. You know, I am getting their location, and she is letting me know when I can leave my room and head down to the pier. I get the all-clear; my sister and I head to the pier. Once we step out of the hotel, we are in a completely different world. There are partiers everywhere. There were more thongs and cleavage than a rap video. These partiers were wild- drinking, smoking, ambulances on the beach, police officers posted everywhere.
I am by no means trying to be disparaging. I simply say this to set the awkwardness of the scene; this particular party just happens to be predominately African-American- by a long shot. Like, I was the only white dude on the beach. What makes it even more awkward is my sister’s and my get-up. I am in shorter khaki shorts, an overly touristy, short-sleeve button up shirt with cars and palm trees all over it, tube socks, sandals, and a white fishing hat. My sister was in a puke green shirt and puke green pants covered with flowers. She also had on a floppy, straw-looking hat.
Once we literally pushed through the crowd in our hideous attire, we took our position on the pier looking out at the ocean with our arms around each other, imitating an elderly couple. (The other) Lindsey and Ashley led (my) Lindsey to our location, and when I heard the signal words, I turned around, took off my goofy hat, and asked my best friend to marry me. She said yes to socks, sandals, and all. In all of our pictures and videos, you can see the numerous revelers in the background partying it up and having a grand old time.
Nearly two years later (we got engaged on April 13, 2013), my wife is sitting on the couch as I write this blog. We often laugh about my unorthodox proposal. We wouldn’t have it any other way. My proposal was special. Just like my relationship with my love.
In short, the moral of the story: When you plan a proposal, make sure it doesn’t coincide with Orange Crush Weekend or Freaknik.