Starting at the Start
Actually, I’m not sure where to start. I see Jonathan’s starting with the backstory … or in David Copperfield’s words, To begin my life with the beginning of my life, I record that I was born.
Not me; I’m going to start with the wedding plans. Even then, I have so much to say, I have to make sure it doesn’t come out in a jumble.
I guess I’ll start with how things suddenly become real, when you’re getting married. They aren’t words on a page anymore. Some things will always be nothing more than words, words, words to me … anything about interior design, for example, or how to prune a rosebush. But not weddings — not anymore. Even articles about bridal shower recipes or wedding invite etiquette jump off the page these days.
I find I suddenly do have preferences, when before I thought I was above that sort of thing. I learn, for example, that I’m a cake bride, and if I suddenly come into money, I’ll be begging Ron Ben-Israel to do up some tilting asymmetrical hyper-pigmented wonder for me, not just because he’s an artist, but because he’s funny and down-to-earth, too.
And then, there’s the switching of camps. You see, I’m in a wedding movie jag — I’m watching every wedding-related movie under the sun. The Corpse Bride (terrific), for example. American Wedding (hey, I loved American Pie, but I couldn’t get through this one). My Best Friend’s Wedding. And suddenly I find, half to my delight and half to my horror, that My Best Friend’s Wedding is interesting, whereas before it made no impression in my neural back alleys at all.
And even more surprising, I’m no longer the Julianne character. Now I’m the Kimmy character, though I don’t know when this switch happened. To wit:
KIMMY
You hate weddings; you never go. You’re not up for anything conventional, or popularly assumed to be a female priority. Including marriage. Or romance. Or even…
JULIANNE
… love.
KIMMY
Well, I thought I was like you. And proud to be. Until I met rumpled, smelly old Michael… And then I found I was just a sentimental schmuck like all those flighty nitwits I’d always pitied. It’s funny, huh?
