The Home Stretch

The week before my wedding, my body refused to stop moving, churning, turning over in my mind every little detail that would take place on Saturday, August 5, 2006. Even in my sleep I could physically feel my brain working, poring over checklists and dreaming of walking down the aisle.

In the six months prior, more than one person told me that it was this very bridal reaction that would cause me to inexplicably lose weight in that final week. I laughed in their face because, um, hello? I am a Cruise woman. We just don't lose weight that easily. Oh no, it requires much anguish and several stops and starts due to Krispy Kreme/Haagen Daz/Dove Bar fits.

But then, lo and behold, their words were true. I would be starving. Absolutely ravenous for a Wendy's #1 combo. However, after about two bites the very thought of eating more would make me nauseous. I ate (or tried to eat) sushi twice that week. I still can't eat it to this day because of the Bridal Brain Diet. Still, it was the easiest eight pounds I ever dropped.

This week, my brain is consumed again with bridal thoughts. Not for me this time, but for Mrs. Whirly's daughter. And alas and alack, the thoughts are not resulting in the Bridal Brain Diet not its desired effect. Nor are they eager, anticipatory thoughts. They're more like, "Dear God, will this wedding ever happen and will we all survive?"

You see, this is a large wedding. Many guests, more details, an absolutely gigantic wedding party. From bride and groom down to the littlest flower girl, it's forty-three people. FORTY-THREE.

So if I haven't called you back, returned your email, written your daily fix of SDQ or forgot to make you dinner, I'm sorry. I am more than just a wee bit preoccupied for another few days.

Then I will park my happy little tuchus beside my in-law's pool and fill my cup from a bucket of frozen margaritas.

Join me, won't you?