Wedding Myth #1 "The Proposal"

Welcome to our Wedding "Myths" Series.

As past brides well know and future brides will soon find out there is a laundry list of wedding related falsities that we are fed regarding our big day that often leave us feeling mislead, slightly underwhelmed & rear on the post wedding blues (real thing).

So with a lot of sarcasm and a dash of cynicism, our wedding myths series is blasting through all that cinderella bullshit so we can see the humor in these unrealistic expectations leaving us feeling well informed and excited for a more realistic wedding vision.

Believe me if someone had only crushed my pre wedding expectations I could have saved a lot of money and suffered a lot less wedding postpartum.     

Wedding Myth #1
 
“The proposal will knock you off your feet.”
 
Let me paint my proposal for you.....

We flew to Paris, France, where we spent 3 blissful days gallivanting around the worlds most romantic city together. We enjoyed a beautiful candlelight dinner at the elegant Michelin Star Le Jules Verne inside the Eifel Tower, as I eagerly waited for a proposal that never comes as that would be far too cliché. 

The next day we go bike riding, my bike complete with a wicker basket and I dressed in a stunning floral summer dress flowing through the breeze while adventuring around the streets of Paris.

We stopped to enjoy a picnic with a lovely bottle of champagne, complete with assorted pastries and a Gourmet Charcuterie board, my favorite. 

We laughed in the sunlight as I lay with my arms crossed behind my head, eyes closed, breathing in the Parisian air. I opened my eyes only to find my boyfriend at the end of our blanket on one knee confessing his love for me as my gorgeous new 2 carat diamond ring sparkles in the sunlight.

I spring to my knees, “YES,” I cry out, tears streaming down my face as we embrace for what feels like an eternity.

I was even more surprised as a photographer creeps closer to get shots of our kissing and hugging and now I know this magical and intimate moment will be relished forever in these photos. He has planned the perfect proposal and has knocked me off my feet. 

This was my proposal, only spoiled by Airfrance flight 971 when they cancelled our flight to Paris.

They quickly  reroute us to Rome in an attempt to not leave us sitting in JFK for over 36 hours. After 3 short days in Paris we were going to Italy to spend 3 weeks traveling with my family. 

Obviously Paris would have been the ideal proposal location but let's be honest, there's not a city in Italy that isn’t the ideal backdrop for an amazing proposal, but Paris that was the goal, I guess a girl can dream.  
 
We took two days away from the family to visit Venice, Italy, the second most romantic city in the world. We checked into a picturesque hotel, scouted last minute by yours truly, overlooking the Grand Canal near Piazza San Marco.

I threw on a fairly wrinkled, ill-fitting cotton dress I had stuffed into an overnight bag. I left most of my belongings in our Villa in Arezzo.  After wandering around we decided to take a Gondola ride, of course.

I bought a bottle of champagne because it seemed like an ideal setting for romance and if a proposal was to happen I deemed this the most likely moment. we boarded right after sunset but it was getting dark very quickly, so we sat next to each other, cuddled under   the cool Venetian sunset when I proceeded to finish an entire bottle of champagne to myself.

Although extremely romantic once we got closer to the final dock it occurred to me that maybe the proposal was not going to happen and in that case I couldn’t allow the expectation to put a damper on what could be a totally perfect evening otherwise.

So fairly tipsy, I stumbled out of the gondola and was eagerly looking forward to a large Italian dinner to wash down my bottle of champagne. 

My boyfriend, who doesn't drink but is quite the foodie, had arranged for a beautiful dinner on the legendary panorama terrace of the Hotel Monaco.

Better suited by day to see the views of The Grand Canal but very romantic in theory nonetheless.

I ordered a ridiculously priced bottle of wine (bad idea) and enjoyed the very very small courses as they were delivered one by one, leaving plenty of time in between for me to drink ALL of my wine.

Although delicious, their daintiness in size was not nearly enough to absorb the damage I had done drinking by myself.

After about 3-4 courses of the multi-course meal I excused myself to the ladies room. More inebriated then I realized, I slightly tripped  into the bathroom where I was confronted by a tiny little Italian man who scolded me harshly in a language I couldn’t fully understand.

I found myself, slightly drunk (understatement), lost, and in the men’s restroom, which I found amusing and I couldn’t wait to get back and tell my boyfriend “I think I’m a drunk,” as well as my fancy Italian restroom adventures.

I was giggling to myself playing over and over the retelling of the story I wanted to share with him (as a story teller I do this often) on my way back to my seat.

When I got to our table, he pulled out my chair and I snickered out loud excited to tell him my tale.

Before I could sit he was on one knee, a bad knee, from years of professional sports, right there in front of me.

From that point forward, everything felt like the twilight zone. Time seemed to stand still as my mind began to race.

His mouth was moving, but to this day I could not tell you a single word that came from his mouth. I imagine him spending weeks planning the perfect words to say, as he has never been much of a talker, yet I can’t recall a single one. All I can recall is what was going through my very loud, fairly drunk mind at the time. It sounded a little something like this. 

“Wait! I have a really funny story to tell you!” 

“Wwwhhaaa... What’s happening?” 

“Oh my God, this is actually happening?... Right now? I’m far too drunk for this!” 

Then, as he grabs my Right hand.
“But wait?!?!” I think to myself, “He has the wrong hand it’s supposed to be my left hand!”

“Do I tell him, or do I just gently pull away my right hand? (Which is ironically the wrong hand.)” 

“And, what if I do pull away, will he think I'm saying no? 

 “OH, SHIT I HAVEN’T SAID ANYTHING YET!”

I quickly come to realize that I have been standing here silently in shock for an awkward length of time and am making people around us very anxious. 

Finally, the words come from my lips, “Yes, Yes it’s a Yes!” 

Everyone, including my fiancé lets out a sigh of relief and just that quickly it was over.

​That was my proposal. It left me speechless, but I can’t say it knocked me off my feet. Luckily the memory will be etched forever in history thanks to a cell phone snapshot caught by a nearby looky loo that I’ve added for your viewing pleasure. 

So if you are anything like me. Filled with thoughts and stories, expectations and fairytales it's more likely your proposal will look a little something like this.

Although sometimes we may forget, it might not have been Paris, I was wearing cotton instead of floral, I was far more drunk then I was sober, And his beautiful words I may never truly remember, the truth of the matter still remains from that day forward (que Beyonce' Song) "I woke up like this...."

Still in need of a few good laughs? here are some pictures from what I assume what was supposed to be a "sexy post engagement photoshoot" I forced my fiance to do  on the Rialto Bridge, just to prove how tipsy I was!
(come to think of it, it likely wasn't the proposal evening he had in mind)