Ugh, I should have grabbed my cell; I could be texting or Tweeting right now. Ooh, a magazine! That’ll help pass the time while I chemically alter my hair. Damn, it’s Brides. I guess it will have to do... Oh, that’s pretty. Oh, that’s pretty. Ooooh, that’s preeeeetty. That color is amazing; I’d choose lavender as my wedding color. The bridesmaids would appreciate that because they could re-wear a knee-length lavender strapless dress... I wonder who my bridesmaids would be. Duh, my sister, but who else? My friend Kelsey in San Francisco would throw one hell of a bachelorette party. She has huge boobs, though. I wouldn’t want them to steal my A-cup thunder. Maybe I should have ugly bridesmaid dresses. Hmm. I wonder how tall the groomsmen would be. I have short female friends; don’t want the balance thrown off too much. Wow, that’s a gorgeous ring. I wonder if my boyfriend knows my ring finger is a size four and that I despise princess cuts.
Waaaaaait a minute: What am I doing?
I am a self-respecting, liberal, college-educated woman whose nickname among certain acquaintances is “Cornflake” because I have a problem committing to social outings, never mind legal bondage. Then, there’s that fact I am only 24 and have already been married and divorced, so I don’t think I should be jumping any matrimonial guns anytime soon. How did I let myself start fantasizing about ceremonies? What power this magazine held over me! Maybe it’s the fact my ex just got engaged — the bastard — or the fact that my head is currently inside a glorified microwave. Either way, this is unacceptable! Put the magazine down, April, you really don’t need to read that mash-up of wedding-day horror stories.
So. What else is on that table?
Oh! Star! magazine. Much better.