POP Goes the Question-The Story Continues

At the end of the last proposal post, I was headed towards a sculpture in the National Sculpture Garden. I was in search of a particular sculpture (a tongue in cheek take on Rodin's Thinker) and when I found it, I saw a small card taped to the name plaque (the small blue paper in the right lower corner of the picture below).

Personal Photo

I looked around to see if I anyone was nearby, but as far as I could see, I was alone. The card contained another love note, and further instructions to make my way to the Carousel along the National Mall. I was on an official scavenger hunt! I have loved these since I was a child, and they have played a part in many gift givings between the mister and I.

My heart started beating at this point. I knew something was up, and the only conclusion I could come to was a proposal. But I kept telling myself that it didn't make sense: I had always thought we would wait until I was back living in California again. And I thought that C would propose when we were at home. So, with this logic, I kept telling myself, "No, C is just being romantic. He can't be proposing now!"

With my pounding heart, and sweaty palms (despite the freezing weather), I made my way to the Carousel, to find another note.

Personal Photo (My note in red)

I began to wonder how long each of these notes had been waiting for me, and was amazed that they were all there for me to find! (Thank you wind and passer-byers for not picking up and taking my cards!) From the carousel, I was "told" to head down towards a tree behind the Washington Monument. Here is where a bit of real-life crept into our proposal story (not all stories play out exactly like movies now, do they?): my cell phone rang, and as I fumbled to open it with my numb hands, I saw it was C calling. Before I could say anything, he quickly instructed, "Now, you're not allowed to ask me anything, but I need you to stop where you are. Wait until I text you before you keep going." And then he hung up. I had no idea what to make of the situation, and all I could do was wait. So wait I did. It was cold, and my nose started running. And I was left to ponder the options of what was going on. (Which, I'll admit, believing he wasn't proposing led me to the decision that he had bought me a puppy. And I thought "Well, that is rude, since I'm in school and can't take care of a puppy right now!" Ha.)

I finally got a text telling me I could continue (a long 15 minutes later). I found my 4th note in a nook of a large tree.

Personal photos (the card in the nook, and me reenacting picking it up, post proposal)

This card led me to my final note, which was perched on an informational sign along the reflecting pool. (Seriously, how was it possible that nobody had walked by and picked up the cards? A miracle, I say!)

Personal Photo

I picked up card and found a line from Martin Luther King Jr's "I have a dream" speech. This was my clue to go to the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, where nearly 50 years ago, MLK orated his famous speech. My hands were shaking, because I felt that something big was about to happen. I took a few deep breaths and headed towards the monument .

Was anyone else sent on an adventure during their proposal? Did you know it was going to happen before your love popped the question? Who convinced themselves otherwise?

POP Goes the Question-The Start

Let me set the mood for the proposal story: imagine it is late November, just before Thanksgiving in Washington DC. The air is cool and crisp (well, let's be honest, it was more cold and biting, but I'm trying to romance it up a bit). Mr. Pin-ster had just flown into DC to spend the holiday with me, while I was in nursing school at Georgetown.

The mister and I set out early one morning for the Museum of American History on the National Mall. I wanted to see Dorothy's slippers and Kermit the Frog, while Mr. PC wanted to see Lincoln's top hat and anything involving air travel (perhaps these differences explain why he's brilliant at every category of Trivial Pursuit, and the most I can say for myself is that I'm hit and miss with the pink "Entertainment" questions)

[Source-all 3]

We wandered the museum for a while, but I soon began to feel tense (which goes back to my deep rooted fear of either trampling or being trampled by children while in confined, crowded spaces [that's a new DSM V diagnosis, right?]). I wanted to just skedaddle and get something to eat, but Pin-ster tried to insist we eat at the museum, despite my non-stop complaints about paying $9 for a sandwhich (some might call me cheap, but I prefer "thrify"). After a 10 minute debate about our lunch plans with no apparent resolution in sight, Mr. PC finally just sat me down on a bench and told me he had something for me.

Mr. PC handed me an envelope and instructed me, "Please wait here for 10 minutes before reading this." He then rushed away into the crowd. And so I waited. And waited. But 10 minutes? Good gracious, no. I'd say I was able to hold out for about 7 1/2 minutes. (Besides, I'm pretty sure my watch must have been working on some alternative time system, because the seconds hand was moving at about half speed.)

Inside the envelope was the first clue of a scavenger hunt. I can't be sure, but I might have done a cartwheel or two, or at least a karate kick, out of excitement. I have a love for scavenger hunts that could rival that of a pirate's. With a zip in my step, I headed out on my search . . .

At the beginning of the scavenger hunt in front of the Smithsonian. The first clue led me to . . .


. . . a dog/rabbit "Thinker" sculpture in the National Sculpture Garden. The next clue (the blue note in the bottom right corner) directed me to . . .


. . . a carousel along the National Mall. This next red note pointed me towards . . .


. . . a gnarled tree behind the Washington Monument. This was turning out to be no poor-man's scavenger hunt-4 clues and counting. This hint told me to keep walking along the reflecting pool . . .

. . . where I spotted another clue atop an information sign.

This note (which I was beginning to hope was the last, since I think I was developing frostbite of the nose) was simply a line from Martin Luther King Jr's "I have a dream" speech. This was my hint to head to the Lincoln Memorial, where MLK had orated his famous speech.

At this point, my hands were shaking (from cold or excitement, no one will ever know). I took a few deep breaths and headed towards the Memorial . . .

What made your proposal story special? Dish out the good stuff in the comments!