Planz schmanz – Wedding (the proposal)

Posted on December 9, 2008

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Sadly, the camera acted up the day I proposed. This is the first picture of us newly-engaged taken on land.

Sadly, the camera acted up the day I proposed. This is the first picture of us newly-engaged taken on land.

Anytime a blog entry has the word wedding in it, it suggests one of three things. That A) I have just gotten back from a memorable wedding (my first Greek wedding comes to mind), B) The Devil has possessed me and I am having a field day mocking and belittling a fugly (fat and ugly) bride (something I used to do a lot of, the mocking bit), or C) the Western suburb’s most eligible bachelor has gotten tired of his folks’ incessant pressure to get married (not true, but funny nonetheless), and is getting hitched!

Photobucket Michele and I had started the day on a bad note; I have been busy the months prior what with the picking of the ring, paying it off, making arrangements with the pilot and making sure everything went smoothly. There were a few very hairy moments when Michele asked about the stack of jewellery business cards I had in my jacket. Believe me it wasn’t nice lying to her. As the weeks turned to months, Michele often found me talking discreetly on the mobile in my room and even asked if I was having an affair!

The morning itself, I had excused myself from home citing ‘university duties’. Michele wasn’t impressed. My strange behaviour has been going for a little too long, and I realised I couldn’t keep up with this game of charades for much longer. I simply had to propose. It’s now or never!

So unimpressed she was, she did not think otherwise when I texted her about 15 minutes later, telling her to meet me at Flinders Street Station in about three hours’ time. I used this time wisely, picking up the ring, and making final arrangements with the pilot.

As with most proposals, the bride-to-be never sees it coming. Michele turned up looking very pretty and non-descript as usual (she claimed she’s underdressed a few hours after the proposal), but tell me which bride actually dresses up for the day she’s proposed to! Magic 8 Ball my ass!

The flight from Essendon Airport to the CBD and back take about 25 minutes tops. After circling the Melbourne CBD, Mr Pilot (I’ve forgotten his name argh) turned around for a cue. He had told me he normally makes just one loop, but if I had not proposed by then, he would gladly make another loop. I gave him a signal, meaning ‘another round please’.

During this time, I proposed.

Michele was looking out of the window and I had pretended to reach back for a drink. Slipping the box out from the bag unnoticed, I waited till she was snapping before I opened the box. Michele was so excited by the flight she needed a tap on the shoulder to turn towards me. Oh what a spot of bother.

I don’t remember much of it. It all went by ‘like that’. I was trembling with fear as I have a fear of heights, I was shaking more than the single engine plane and the flimsy make of the big metal bird did little than convince me to propose fast or we’ll all meet our maker on this very fateful day.

I had to pop the question twice because Michele was completely taken by surprise. She had thought it was just a nice trip planned by me and was enjoying taking pictures with our soon-to-be-discovered sick camera (Bad camera! Bad boy!). Between sobs, laughs and wiping back tears, she said ‘yes’. I think that moment took the Mile High Club concept to another level. No bodily fluids were exchanged then. Okay, maybe just saliva from kissage. But we were happy.

So was Mr Pilot. At the end of the second loop, he half turned and I gave him a thumbs up. Mission accomplished.

We were back on the tarmac within 10 minutes. Michele was still shaking. I was probably thinking ‘oh my fucking god what did I just do’ but at that precise moment I was probably more relieved than anything. Feels great to plant my feet on dry land again. I and heights will never get along.

And so it began. My life from November 26 2007 was changed forever.

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