Naterdammerung

This is an old blog that used to be known as The All You Can Nate Special: $5 Cover. I haven't done anything with it since 2007, but I'm thinking about getting back into blogging. At this blog, you'll find the random thoughts, political rants, alcohol-induced diatribes, and other musings of a Nebraska-born guy in his mid 20's. And then, you'll go through a time warp and find the ramblings of the same guy who is suddenly in his 30's, married, and a dad. Stranger things have happened.

Name:
Location: Nebraska, United States

Some might say that I'm the Man. And those who say so would be right. The reasons are various and sundry, and I don't particularly care to get into them. So I guess you'll just have to trust me. If you want to know more about me, be you a friend, stranger, hypochondriac, or even a narcoleptic, you'll just have to read on.

Saturday, January 20, 2007

A Humble & Heartfelt Request For Someone Wonderful

(Of course that's referring to you, Angie. :D)

Can you believe it has already been a year since we first met? It doesn't seem so long ago that we were playing phone tag, trying to set up our first date. From the time I first laid eyes on you that night, I found you gorgeous, but as the date went on, I realized you were someone truly special.

And so, in the ensuing days, I'd find my thoughts constantly turning to you, yearning for the next chance we'd get to spend time together. Then, when we were together, I'd find more reasons to love you.

Many of them were little things, like the way you make lists of things to do, the fact that you already have all of my family members' birth dates memorized, and the way you so urgently insist on ordering a side of honey mustard to go with your fries at Lazlo's. But there were also major things, such as your dedication to family, your generosity, your patience, and the Christian faith we share in common.

This hasn't changed one bit. I thank God for you each day, and it would be an honor to build a life with you. So, naturally, there is something I must ask. . .