Well sort of. It goes without saying that I am the type of
guy that doesn't plan a thing. And when I do it usually changes to something
else along the way. When I dropped to one knee for the girl it was always my
intention to mention the whole "let's head to Vegas this weekend"
scenario (why else do you propose on a Thursday night? To catch the weekend
special) I was fully aware that the girl is the total opposite to me in regards
to the planning but you can never underestimate the power of a sparkling
diamond ring. So I’ll try and break this experience down to a few little posts
of their own.
The girl still has her Grandmothers around so it was
apparent pretty early that the Vegas option was out, but I still hang on to the
thought of what would have happened if longevity was not ripping through her
family veins. So we pushed the date out a couple of years so the whole thing
could be planned to the second.
The G-factor also led us to realising that an overseas wedding
was out of the question. I thought that offering them a first class ticket
would change the deal - I mean really, they would be more comfortable than in a
nursing home, but the girl was not to be swayed. As such we decided that we
would make it more convenient for ninety five percent of our guests and have
the wedding in Australia. The first question everyone asked me was were we
getting a wedding planner? Seriously? A wedding planner? Not only was that a
terrible movie (probably) but J-Lo can't sing, can't act, although doesn't
require a beanbag when sitting on the floor. No wedding planner. This led to
the planning to fall squarely on our shoulders. Our shoulders are the
collective for falling on the Girl's. The condition of this was that I had to
find the cars, sort out the music and turn up sober enough to legally get
married.
So we picked a venue, some hotels for our guests to stay in,
a celebrant and the photographer all blindly off the net. This could be a very
interesting wedding…
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