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Wedding season that is.  Even if you’re not getting married in your 20s, chances are you’re going to weddings… a lot of weddings.  Currently, I average three weddings a summer and expect this number to rise in coming years.  I figure I’ll attend fifteen to twenty more weddings before I hit my thirtieth birthday.  That’s a lot of roast beef.

Growing up, I never gave much thought to my own nuptials.  I certainly failed to worry whether my future gown would be white, off white, stark white, or diamond white.  However, I now find myself almost forced to consider all details of a wedding.  It seems every conversation progresses to a discussion of so-and-so’s wedding and whether we liked, did not like, or wanted to puke all over the center pieces and bridesmaids’ dresses.  (I would not contend the point that I start a large portion of these conversations.)  And Facebook, as usual, does not help the issue.  If all of my Facebook friends also average three weddings a year for the next five years, I’ll have judged 12,105 different pictures of bouquets by 2015.

By the time I walk down the aisle, I’ll have thousands of dos and don’ts for updos alone.

I hope, however, that I’ll also remember why I like weddings.  I like weddings because when the bride and groom have their first dance there passes a moment of absolute, unadulterated happiness that has nothing to do with the details and everything to do with the big picture.

And it makes that cold roast beef taste so much better.

(Photo courtesy of f3nd1 via Flickr)

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