An open letter to filmmakers

Dear aspiring filmmakers,

If you want me to see your new movie at the multiplex, then follow these three steps:

1. Make a film that garners the enthusiastic acclaim of a vast majority of critics

2. Shut up

3. Take my money

Getting Wes Anderson involved in your project doesn't hurt either. Even if he is just a producer. He doesn't have to write it or direct it. I'll still see it on opening weekend.

Unless Noah Baumbach is also involved.

Of all the times Nano and I have gone on dates, two of those times have been screenings of Mr. Baumbach's work -- complete with stadium seating, a bucket of popcorn, and a 35 mm movie projector whirring behind us. These dates have not been my favorites.

I am writing this letter regarding the time Nano and I saw The Squid and the Whale – written and directed by Mr. Baumbach and produced by Mr. Anderson. The movie is about two boys dealing with their parents' divorce in the 1980s in Brooklyn. It turns out that such a story does not for a good date make. You see, part of the fun of young love is not a vision of how it can fall apart. Other terrible date movies involve prison camps, war, and Michael Bay. I know that The Squid and the Whale had nothing to do with the latter three, but it makes up for it with a divorce full of awkwardness, bitterness, and despair.

There's more to making a great movie than staging a memorable scene. Still, if I were a filmmaker, I would dream of making something unforgettable. What I remember most about The Squid and the Whale is the part when the older son wants to take a girl on a date -- to the movies to see Short Circuit. He mentions his plan to his father, who responds "Blue Velvet is supposed to be quite interesting." So the son, the father, and girl see David Lynch's surreal masterpiece Blue Velvet -- another terrible movie choice for a date. Watching this scene play out, I realized that Nano and I were on a similarly absurd date. It was as though the movie was making fun of us.

Aspiring filmmakers, it is not my intention to stifle your creativity or to suggest that your artistic vision is out of focus. Especially with regard to your work, Mr. Baumbach. Furthermore, I do not mean to imply that movie critics should withhold praise from extraordinary cinematic achievements unless such triumphs can be enjoyed within the context of a good date.

I want you to know that making a great date movie is a worthwhile pursuit. There's so much beauty in the world. Why not put in on film? But even when you turn your camera to the ugliness of life, at least try to be "quite interesting." If you succeed, then I'll probably get my attention.

I am pleased that Nano is still interested in me, in spite of my lackluster dating record. To me, it’s better than anything Wes Anderson has ever done.

Thank you for your time. Keep up the good work.

Your pal,

Uno

Topic #2 - Getting Engaged

There are a few critical moments in life people tend to file away in the Permanent Polaroid Album of their mind.  Getting engaged is often one of them, whether the story of how it came to pass is funny, dramatic, complicated or casual.  I’ve known I wanted to marry Uno for quite a while, and it was something we’d talked about often.  I absolutely adore surprises, something Uno knows well, but I also adore making life-defining decisions by engaging in thoughtful, compassionate conversation with my intended.  I’m a control-freak with a spontaneous streak.  In this particular situation, I believe I got the best of both worlds.

            When talking to Uno about getting engaged, he often asked me what kind of proposal I wanted.  The only genuine request I remember making is that the proposal come from the heart.  Usually, I just teased him about trying to get me to plan the proposal for him.  I got a taste of my own medicine when Uno started threatening to propose while I was brushing my teeth so he could catch me at my most natural.  This is all to say that I was expecting a proposal, but I had no idea when or how it would happen.

            August 4, 2013 was an incredible day.  It was a Sunday.  I had been working most of the previous day and was really looking forward to spending some time with Uno.  A few days beforehand, we had made plans to go hiking at Natural Bridge State Park.  We crossed our fingers and hoped for good weather and we weren’t disappointed.  75 degrees, not a cloud in the sky, light breeze.  A day that inspires poetry and country songs about dirt roads and feet on dashboards.  After packing our daypacks, we drove to the state park and set off.  We spent the first few hours of the day climbing up to the bridge and exploring the landmark itself.  I had never been there before (though I had been wanting to go since I moved to the area) and I was relishing the opportunity to get some dirt on my hiking boots and sun on my face.  We wandered, took pictures, and enjoyed the spectacular view from the top of the Natural Bridge.  The trail to the bridge carries on past the actual bridge, along the edge of a cliff line.  After sitting at the bridge for a bit, I asked Uno if he was ready to press on.  He said he wanted to stay a while.  I didn’t think much of his response at first.  I wanted to soak in the day as well.  But when I asked again a few minutes later, he said he still wanted to linger.  I wondered what he was waiting for.  But soon enough, we did indeed press on, and after walking along the cliffs for another mile or so, we came to another scenic overlook, ever-so-appropriately named “Lover’s Leap.”

            At Lover’s Leap, we shared a picnic of peanut butter sandwiches, fruit, nuts and baby carrots.  We dangled our legs over the cliff’s edge.  We talked about school and work, movies we wanted to see and trips we wanted to take.  We tried to see who could throw their orange peel farthest.  We laughed.  We lost all track of time.  When I finally asked if it was time to hike back down the mountain, Uno said there was something he wanted to talk to me about first.  I immediately wondered if there was a reason besides the pleasure of my company that he had been lollygagging all day.  He reached for my hand and tied a white cloth ribbon around my wrist.  He told me he loved me and that he never wanted to be apart.  He spoke from the heart.  He asked me to be his wife.  And so, on a Sunday in August, surrounded by the absolute glory of God’s wilderness creation, without hesitation, I flung myself off of “Lover’s Leap” and said Yes.   He told me I could untie the ribbon on my wrist, and when I did, I discovered the incredible ring he had picked out for me, all on his own.  Everything about the moment was exactly right.  Uno will probably say that he didn’t plan it at all.  That he just went for it when the Spirit moved him.  While I’m unconvinced that that day happened purely on a whim, I am absolutely sure that very little in my life has felt so spectacularly natural. 

            From the proposal spot, we video-chatted with my family and made a video to send to his.  Sharing a bit of that moment with our loved ones made it even more special.  We hiked down the mountain grinning from ear to ear, holding hands even though the trail was often narrow and clearly not made to accommodate side-by-side walking.  It was a moment I will treasure for the rest of my life, and now I can't help but be reminded of how blessed I am to have walked out of a State Park with not only the best rock, but the best man in the whole place.  

Lovebirds at Lover's Leap

How Nano and I got engaged

Nano and I have been talking about getting married for a long time. But it wasn't until after tax season that I really did anything about it. After the April 15 deadline, I bought a ring. I picked it out myself. Then I discussed engagement with Nano's parents -- extraordinary people who are so encouraging to me. By that time, I was ready to propose.

But not all the way ready.

How someone proposes matters. A man must come correct. He cannot propose to her over the phone or in a text message. Also, no email proposals. If he proposes to her while she is brushing her teeth or at a sporting event with their image on the huge video board, then she may say no.

Even proposing at a busy restaurant over dinner can be too public. And hiding the ring in food increases the risk that someone will eat it before the big moment.

Common sense tells us that proposing at someone else's wedding is in poor taste.

But he must ask her in a way that leaves the couple with an interesting story to tell to family and friends.

I did consider hiding the ring in Nano’s house. Then, I would call her and tell her to look for the ring in its hiding place. When she found it, I planned to pop the question.

For more ideas, I turned to a great and powerful source of wisdom -- one that knows almost everything about me and the rest of the world -- Google. Search “proposal ideas,” and Google will deliver about 102,000,000 results in 0.20 seconds – depending on the internet connection.

It took me another 0.20 seconds to realize that the bar for spectacular proposals has already been set extremely high:

http://youtu.be/5_v7QrIW0zY

(It really does sound like he is saying “dancing Jews.”)

So, I decided to keep it simple. I began to carry the ring with me every time Nano and I were together. My plan was to give it to her when an opportunity presented itself. And that was my whole plan.

On August 4, 2013, we had been calling ourselves "boyfriend and girlfriend" for exactly one year, though we had been dating for a longer time. The weather was good, and we decided to spend the day hiking and picnicking in Natural Bridge State Park.

When we climbed to the top of the natural bridge, we enjoyed an extraordinary view of the park. We did not enjoy enough privacy, however, for a proper proposal. An overlook farther north was a better spot.

Nano and I were sharing a picnic lunch. I finished my peanut butter sandwich and reached into my pocket for the ring. It was tied to a white cotton ribbon. I tied the ribbon around Nano's wrist, and I told her that I love her and that I don't want to lose another four years with her. I asked her to marry me. Without hesitation, she said yes. She turned her palm upward, untied the ribbon, and slipped the ring on her finger. It fit.

The moment was perfect, even though Nano didn't have a fresh manicure that day. Her nails were only a concern to me later when I heard about another bride-to-be chipping a nail right before her now-fiancé proposed. In the obligatory photos of the hand, doesn't a beautiful ring need beautiful nails to match? I did, however, think it would have been a little fishy to tell Nano, "We're going hiking this weekend. You better get French tips."

Talking so much about the proposal eliminated that I could surprise Nano with a ring. But I would never ask someone to marry me, if I didn't already know her answer.

Indeed, the moment was right. I had carried the rock up and over the the bridge. I'm glad she carried it back down for me.

Nano and Uno in 2005

How I met Nano.

My first date with Nano was in the summer of 2005. The two of us had known of each other for years -- such is life in a small town. But we hadn't spent much time together until that year. When I first noticed Nano, she was directing her fellow students in a high school play. I attended a performance because I had a brother in the cast and another brother in the crew.

After the performance, the director made an appearance on stage with the whole company. It was a moment (and there have been many of this kind since then) when I was really impressed by Nano. How she had worked so hard. How she had brought so much intelligence, talent, commitment, and leadership to a big project. How she had staged something so beautiful and wonderful.

Granted, the play was a team effort. And the team was a bunch of amateurs -- just kids really. And the play probably wouldn't play in Peoria, much less Broadway or the West End. Still, none of that matters when one has a crush on the director. To me, she was lovely, smart, and talented. It was the truth. She was the truth. She was. She still is, in fact. Everything she was and more.

But despite my interest in Nano, I almost chose not to ask her for a date. After all, she was in high school and I was in college. I wondered whether we would have much in common. Moreover, we lived hundreds of miles apart -- giving us fewer chances to date.

Plus, it can be rather awkward when I call someone's house to ask for a date and her mom or dad answers the phone. Before everyone had a cell phone, there was always a possibility that I might have to talk to a gatekeeper before my call was transferred. I am old enough to remember such a time. So I was thankful that Nano had a cell phone. No gatekeeper.

When I did decide to call Nano, I expected her to take my call. However, I considered the possibility that I might be leaving her a message instead. Because my voicemail messages tend to be notoriously long, stream-of-consciousness ramblings, I decided to put down on paper the words I wanted to leave for her ahead of time. All for the sake of brevity. Still, I hoped to impress her -- so I wrote her a sonnet (of course) -- which included my name and number -- to recite at the sound of the beep.

But there was no beep because Nano took my call. We talked, and we went on a date. We ate sushi at Jasmine and went to a bluegrass concert in the park.

Later, I gave her the poem that I wrote for her voicemail box. Such is English majors dating. Like writing a grocery list in iambic pentameter. Still, writing voicemail poetry was not out of proportion with either my interest in her or with my hope that she would go out with me. Furthermore, I believe that anyone who directs plays can appreciate poetry written for her. No matter how silly.

Nano and I went on many dates throughout the next two years. Then, we took a four-year break due to a Shakespeare-comedy-type of misunderstanding. I liked Nano. Nano liked me. But we each believed that the other one's like was on the wane. Discouraged, we drifted apart in 2007 and didn't have much contact with each other for the next four years.

Then, we met on Facebook in August 2011. That's right. Facebook. I sent Nano a friend request, and Mark Zuckerberg played Cupid. The following is our first correspondence in four years:

August 27, 2011

NANO: I'm really glad you found me in cyberspace, [Uno]. It's been forever. How have you been? Updates, man, updates!

August 31, 2011

UNO: I didn't know that you were hiding in cyberspace and that you wanted me to find you. But you were and you did. And I found you. Eventually. Sorry it took me so long.

Now I'll hide, and you can find me. Close your eyes, and start counting ... Since your eyes will be closed, you may need someone else to read you the rest of this message ...

Are your eyes closed, [Nano]? ... They are? Yes? Good.

So you want some updates, right? I could just dump out my update bucket right here right now, but if I did, I might give you some information that you already have already. Or I might leave out some information that may prove vital to you, perhaps even save your life. That would be worse.

So please tell me what you know or what you may have heard. I can provide the rest. For example:

I heard that you hiked the Appalachian Trail all the way to med school […]. And that you went to Australia or New Zealand or somewhere far like that.

Now it's your turn.

Ready. Set. Go.

August 31, 2011

NANO: [UNO] - I think you might be better at cyberspace hide and seek than I am. But I promise to play by the rules. No peeking. And I'll count all the way to 100-Mississippi. Don't go too far. Cyberspace is a big place and my legs are short and travel slowly.

I'm tempted by the promise of an update bucket. I have to wonder what kind of bucket we're talking here. Is this the sort of bucket one uses to build sandcastles at the beach? Or the sort of bucket one uses to douse a winning sports team coach with Gatorade? I think context and scale are important here.

That being said, what I have heard is this:

You are pursing another degree in the prestigious field of accounting at the esteemed MSU Business School. You recently spent some time in the great state of Georgia interning in said prestigious field. I hope you had some delicious peaches, and I hope military men named Sherman didn't come marching through with torches and talk of squelching Southern rebellion.

As for what you've heard about me, I'm afraid it's all true. I walked about 1600 miles of AT to get to medical school. Took the scenic route, you might say. I maintained a website chronicling said walk, which I think your dad kept up with. I also went to the "land down under." Or one of them at least. It's on the other side of the world. New Zealand was truly amazing. I highly recommend a visit to Middle Earth if you ever get the chance. As of now, I'm about a month into medical school and up to my eyeballs in cadaver fluids and more information about the bones, muscles and nerves than is healthy for one person to process. It's pretty overwhelming at times, but in a good way. Better than being underwhelmed.

I really am so glad to hear from you. I hope we can keep this up now that we've found each other in cyberspace. Tell me more about you. I want the update bucket.

Topic #1 - How We Met (Her Story)

It’s hard for me to recall meeting Uno.  I feel like I have known him my entire life.   While that may sound romantic, bordering on cliché, it’s actually quite true in the literal sense.  We are the product of a wonderful, small southern town built on close-knit communities.  It’s the kind of place where news travels fast even without the help of the Internet and you can’t go to Wal-Mart without seeing someone you know.  Our families have been friends for three generations, and our parents and grandparents know one another well.  I’ve always known who Uno was, so I couldn’t tell you when I first laid eyes on him, but I can tell you the story of how we grew from family acquaintances into a couple.

            Uno is four years older than I am, so though we went to the same high school, we were never there at the same time.  I did, however, share those halls with his two wonderful younger brothers, who I count among my good friends.  Because of them, I knew about Uno, but never had the chance to talk to him, since he was off at college.  In the spring of 2005, at the end of my junior year of high school, I was directing a play at my high school.  Uno’s middle brother was in the play, his youngest brother was part of the stage crew, and the play happened to be showing on a weekend when he was home from school.  After the performance, as the auditorium was clearing, Uno turned away from chatting with his brothers as his family filed out of the room, smiled at me and said, “Good show, [Nano].”  I thanked him and thought he’d gotten awfully handsome since he’d been away.  But it never crossed my mind that anything besides a great time and a nice bullet point for my college applications would come of that school play.

            A day or two after the play closed, my phone rang.  It was a number I didn’t recognize.  Uncharacteristically, I answered this strange call, and much to my surprise, it was Uno.  “I really enjoyed seeing your show,” he said, “and I’d like to take you out sometime, if you’d be interested.”  My 17-year-old brain short-circuited with excitement at the thought of getting to spend time with this smart, charming, sophisticated college boy.  The next day, Uno picked me up, and we shared some Thai food and enjoyed a bluegrass concert at the local city park.  The conversation flowed easily, and I remember having a hard time quelling my laughter and smiles.  To my delight, that day was the first of many happy days we spent together that summer, and by the time Uno had to return to college, I was head-over-heels in crush. 

            Uno and I talked often and spent quite a bit of time together over the next two years.  Even as I moved away from our hometown myself and he started a graduate program, we managed to keep in touch, and my enchantment with him grew with each Christmas break rendezvous and three-page-long email.  Being a naive teenager, what I did not manage to do over these two years, despite my excitement, was tell Uno just how much I liked him.  After my freshman year of college, school, moving, new jobs and busy lives for each of us got in the way, and we started talking less frequently and eventually lost touch altogether.  Looking back, I remember being disappointed in myself for not being bolder and missing our time together very much.

            Fast forward four years, through my own college graduation, six months on the Appalachian Trail, medical school applications and a move to a brand new city.  I was a few weeks into medical school when I received a very fateful email.  As much as I hate crediting Facebook with my current happiness, I cannot tell a lie, and it was a Facebook friend request that brought Uno and me back together after four years.  He sent me the request, I accepted, and I sent him a message asking for updates on his life.  I received a "classically Uno" three-page-long response in return, and the excitement I had felt during the “early years” of Nano and Uno quickly returned.  We emailed back and forth every day after that, and about a month later, when Uno was in my city for a job interview, he took me out for pizza.  Over greasy cheese and crust, I laughed and smiled just as much as I had when we had first gotten to know one another.  We were inseparable after that, and before I knew it, not only did I have my friend back, I was in love. 

            I have heard it said that if something is meant to be, it will be.  Against all odds (with some help from modern technology), Uno and I managed to find one another.  I truly believe that God has blessed my life by allowing it to intersect with Uno’s, and this is a story I will never tire of telling. 

 Nano and Uno - The Early Years

(at Nano's high school graduation)

Welcome to our Blog!

Greetings!  I'm Nano, a nature-loving, Star Trek-watching, good food/good book-craving Southern girl and medical student.  When I grow up I hope to become a doctor.

And I'm Uno.  I'm an accountant.  I like indie rock, college basketball, and art house films.  And Nano.

We are both from a small town in Kentucky, and we have known each other for quite a while.  Recently, we got engaged, which is wonderful!  We want to see the world together.  We are blogging to share a little bit of the world with you.

Each week, there will be (we hope) two posts -- one from Nano and one from Uno -- sharing our thoughts on a new topic.  This approach will give our readers two perspectives on what goes on in our lives.  If there is anything in particular you would like us to explore, leave us a comment!  We will strive to post words worth reading and not partake in too much self-indulgence.  No promises though.

This blog is about times past and the stops we make along the road to where we're going.  In the near future, we will tell stories about school, work, travel, and our long-distance relationship. Everything leading up to the altar.  After that, who knows?  Our adventures together are just beginning.  We hope you will join us.

Uno and Nano, the bloggers.