Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Steak Frites

When I first expressed concern about losing weight to fit into my wedding dress, my mother told me not to worry. She described scenarios where the bride is so stressed out that she drops dress sizes, right up until the week preceeding the wedding, frustrating the poor seamstress who keeps having to take it in. "But losing the weight isn't the only thing," she warned, "there's the bad skin that happens from worrying about losing the weight. So whatever you do, don't worry about it." I imagined myself walking down the aisle with severe acne and exposed collar bones, a nervous wreck in a white frock that balloned around me.

Well, my mother needn't have worried. Stress I've experienced yes, but that's to do with me being a perfectionist, a control freak, and wanting to throw a good party with all the details taken care of. As for worrying about marrying Robert, if my diet is anything to go by, I don't think that's somehow on the forefront of my mind. Saying yes to someone I love, and more so, like more than anything in the world (even reinforced elasticated underpants), is the easy part as far as I'm concerned. Meeting him was like meeting a version of myself, only a much much better model - a sort of aspirational me. The idea of spending the rest of my life with him is therefore something I look forward to a great deal, and if anything causes pangs of excitement rather than weight-shedding angst.

The rest of the stuff - is just a bunch of details. And that's what I have to remember while I'm laying awake over the next few nights praying that everything goes according to plan and that my dress will in fact fit me, despite the steak fritte and pina colada I consumed for lunch today. And then there's dinner later ... .

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