>And we’re gonna get ma-a-a-rried. How many times did I sit and listen to that song on my Dad’s Bette Midler albums when I was a little girl? So very many. More than either he or I would like to recall. Not to mention that I have now officially shared with the world that my Dad even HAD Bette Midler albums. Well, now that that is out there, I should go ahead and tell you that he decorates cakes AND he cries at a good chick flick. But he’s not gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with that (thank you, Seinfeld).

Back to the topic at hand. I’m getting married. To Chris. On March 20, 2008. A Thursday. I don’t care if you think it’s weird. It’s the first day of spring. And we are going to have a big time. I’m glad you are going to be able to be there. Wherever “there” is, that is. Seriously. Less than three months from now, and I have made absolutely zero decisions. Well, except for who the groom shall be and where we shall say our vows. Past that, according to the plans at hand, I will be naked at the altar, with no attendants, and there will be no food or chairs to sit in to eat it. Sounds fun, huh?

I have just driven Chris over the proverbial edge with my web site edit suggestions.