If there is one thing I talk about sort of a lot in my day-to-day life, it is clinic. If there is a second thing I talk about with some sort of frequency, it is Andy. If there is a third thing I talk about on occasion, it is weddings/engagements (with emphasis on my own).
I can't help it. Something about the way my chromosomes connected gave me an excess of the Bride gene. It's not my fault. It's my genetic makeup. And unfortunately, I think my mom gave all of the B genes she had in her to me, and so there were none left over for my sister. Instead of thinking up her own wedding, which would require a slight dose of the B gene (or at least a glance at Martha Stewart Weddings), she took mine, which I had carefully planned during innumerable hours of otherwise unprofitable daydreaming. Now I am currently engaged in the re-planning of my wedding. Although I was annoyed with my sister at first, I am glad that she demonstrated some of the flaws with a few of the plans I originally made. Now, because I am more experienced in the art of wedding planning and execution, I will be much more ideally situated to put the thing off without a hitch. Well, preferably with a hitch---because Andy and I had better be getting hitched. But just one. Other than that, perfection is necessary.
Luckily, not only do I have an aptitude for wedding planning, I have finally found the perfect boy. And I would be lying if I said that I wasn't 100% thrilled about it--not JUST the possibility of years and years of wedded bliss (and I really have no doubt that's what it will be), but also the alluring idea that relatively soon it will be my turn to work on planning the perfect (to me) wedding. I have to say, I totally can't wait.
Even though I KNOW I can't put too much faith in old adages, I have always heard that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. To that end, I have spent countless hours in the kitchen, trying to perfect various recipes--usually desserts. Currently, I have a chocolate marbled cheesecake in the oven, preparing to wow Andy into matrimony. Okay, honestly, I know it doesn't work that way. But it can't hurt to try. Seduction, after all, can come in many forms.
The other night, I had a dream. Frequently my preoccupation with matrimony invades my dreams, but this time was different. It was more vivid--and a bit more ridiculous. In my dream, I knew Andy was going to propose because he asked my parents and my mom called me immediately afterwards to tell me he was about to pop the question. So when Andy was about to ask, I knew it was coming. I was giddy with excitement and, he got down on one knee, and I practically yelled yes. When he gave me the ring, though, it was bizarre. You know those flip flops, where you buy the flop and the flips are interchangeable? And they sometimes have different little gems you can put on the flop? Well, my engagement ring was like that. There were different bands and different diamonds, and they were all interchangeable. I didn't like it very much but I woke up thinking that it was so exciting to be engaged, no matter what the ring.
My sister, for all her wedding-stealing, is right about one thing. The engagement ring is the most important ring, like, ever. Not because it has to be big or expensive, but because its the one thing that your man buys you when you have absolutely nothing. When he has to scrimp and save every last penny and he buys the best thing he can afford. Even though, at just about any other time in your life, you could probably have a bigger diamond. But that's not the point. The point is that this is the one time that you are starting out. It doesn't matter if it's big or small. All that matters is that one day, hopefully soon, Andy will be on one knee and our life will be starting. I can hardly think of anything else.
It's no wonder the thought is invading my dreams, too. But still, let's hope the stones on my engagement ring are not interchangeable.
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