2009: Time to get this bedazzled, tulle-covered monkey off my back

I can't believe I'm back to the grind already. I had such an amazing time in Minnesota, despite completely flaking on many, many people who I hope can find it in their infinite compassion to forgive a weary traveler...

Whether real or imagined one feeling persisted while I was "home": I'm engaged. I have been for some time now, but nobody here in D.C. seems to care. Not so in Cold Spring. Turns out, loved ones want to love the idea of a wedding. Also, it would seem that being uncomfortable with the bowling moniker "Mrs. Cruze," is a bad idea.

So I ran myself through an emotional wringer. I'm really comfortable (in fact, I'm excited to spend the rest of my life hanking it) with the notion of being married. Less so with the notion of a wedding. I guess I've never enjoyed the limelight and it seems like an entire day dedicated to paying attention to me.

Moreover it is a day full of what I (ignorantly or not) see as often-arcane and wasteful traditions. I'm not just talking about the tens of thousands of dollars spent on one day (2005 survey says somewhere in the neighborhood of $30,000) but I'm also talking about the paper, flowers, dresses and tuxedos made from god only knows what chemicals. I'm not a greenie, I'm just sensible. Why should it take another person to help me get dressed (and use the bathroom) on my wedding day? That doesn't make a lick of sense.

So I'd like to take this opportunity to declare my independence from the evil, taffeta-clad, body-glittered, tacky-ribbon tied to every available surface wedding industrial complex.

I will keep the traditions I can find meaning in -- my father (hopefully with a few more pounds on his frame) walking me down the aisle, some music, some vows, the people who matter most nearby -- and dispense of the rest. I will avoid things that I am not comfortable with or can't understand, things that make the single, or non-religious, or anti-Macarena types in my life uncomfortable.

I will not get hung up on invitations, lighting or fingernail polish. I will not bemoan having to invite relatives I don't like. I will not mind if I don't get a KitchenAid mixer.

I will use the event as a chance to spend time with the people I care about most. I will give up control of details, ask for help and go with the flow. As long as Andrew is there, I will be fine.

I will make it a day to celebrate what matters: my best friend, my love for him, the people who helped us get to where we are and the people who will be with us as we grow together.

I'm not ultra new-agey but I know words have power. I would like to thank the Internet for letting me write that down and get it off my brain.