Love, Vivien Leigh

In lieu of my friends deciding to get hitched simultaneously, my mind's been wandering to nuptials and that pre-martial bliss that I've heard tale of. I won't bore you with the details of my life as a suffragette/bra-burner but I just don't understand what the rush is all about. Now I realize that our 22-year-old biological clock is ticking away and that our eggs are slowly killing each other off, but I feel like we have a few years to play around before we need to get serious about marriage.

I was actually thinking today that the idea of getting engaged sounded kind of sad. Stay with me, here. So in this really precious 2 minutes or so, the man of today's dreams is on his knee, telling you how awesome and hot you are, how lucky he is to have found you (I can paraphrase, right?); and for a split second, you think he's actually starting to look like Clark Gable, Justin Timberlake or [insert sexy man here.] You're so impressed that he was articulate enough to be that charming -- Is his shirt tucked in?? And then you realize, this is the only time in our past/present/future that a situation forces him to be irrevocably honest about his feelings. What if he never dotes on you again? That was it. That was all the wooing he plans to do.

Every woman thinks her man is the exception but they can't all be, right? What happens when Clark stops being romantic or even a little sentimental? In the movies, they joke about the husband that forgets anniversaries or birthdays. But what happens when that happens? Does life just go on birthdayless?? All I'm saying is, take a little extra time to look for Clark.