growing in the goo

Today Mel and I were discussing weddings. She's getting married next year, and I love to press for details on the big event. Not letting the fact that I'm single stand in the way of the fun (and knowing that me and my friends are infamous for putting the cart before the horse), I decided to do a little wedding dress shopping today.

Here's my dress. Ta-da!



The bridesmaids will be wearing scarlet colored dresses, with spaghetti straps. Styled sort of like this:



My ideal wedding takes place in the fall, in October. There's just something so cozy about crunchy leaves, a full moon, and the crisp night air. Warm enough to go outside, cold enough to don an over-sized sweatshirt. Absolutely perfect.

My ideal wedding also requires a great deal of logistics, and possibly some time traveling. I've said for a couple of years that I'd like to have wedding pictures in DC, and my wedding ceremony in Boston. But I just realized that I've been picturing the aforementioned photographs in front of cherry blossoms. Hmm.

The honeymoon location is TBD. Prague calls my name. But I also hear the siren song of Venice...perhaps I can do both? On the other hand, it would be so cool to go to Morocco. Or Portugal! Or Egypt! The groom will have a say, for sure. Afterall, what is a marriage but a beautiful partnership that broadens horizons? So hopefully he'll bring some great travel plans to the table.

Speaking of the groom...I don't ask for much. Actually, I do. And I'm rather unapologetic on that point.

Unfortunately, my ideal men at the moment exist in books. My love affair with Adam Barclay, from Pale Horse, Pale Rider by Katherine Anne Porter, has been long-standing. He is described as a "fine healthy apple" and "He was all olive and tan and tawny, hay colored and sand colored from hair to boots...he was tall and heavily muscled in the shoulders, narrow in the waist and flanks, and he was infinitely buttoned, strapped, harnessed into a uniform..."

And I could go on and on about how wonderful he acts in the story, but I'm afraid that would just be too weird. For me to gush any more over a fictional character.

Speaking of, I also recently fell in love with the main character of Agatha Christie's Moving Finger. Jerry is smart, intelligent, bemused, patient. And handsome, to boot. At least, he sounds like he is. I don't have any concise sound bites on the chap, but he's wonderful as well.

And on that note...