GUEST COLUMNIST: Going to the chapel of love

I love weddings. Yes, I know I'm sentimental and feminine, but a good old-fashioned white wedding tugs on my heart strings every time. I'll even make a slightly embarrassing confession: I watch "The Wedding Show" on Lifetime. I sit glued to the screen watching the mini-documentaries, which chronicle the romances and weddings for couples of every race and religion. The really poignant episodes -- like one about a hearing-impaired couple that signed their vows to each other -- move me to tears. Generally, I watch the show like I'm some kind of marital expert. I keep a running commentary on the wedding dress, decorations and flowers. Nothing escapes my eagle eye and my biting criticisms. My mother says I already have ridiculously high expectations for my own wedding. Let's see: I want the ceremony in a Cathedral with a string quartet and a pipe organ playing throughout. I'm going to glide up the aisle in a form fitting white silk dress with a five foot train. The groom will eagerly wait for me in tails with my Tiffany ring in readiness. My hundreds of guests will then sip champagne at the reception -- in a five-star hotel complete waiters serving a four course dinner and a professional jazz band. Now I ask you, is it so wrong for a girl to want a perfect wedding day? Needless to say, despite my elaborate wedding aspirations, I have no plans to marry in the near future. Or even the slightly further away future. For me, the idea of marriage and kids and "settling down" seems eons away. This is probably why I have such romantic notions about weddings -- they are just daydreams or fairytales. I always thought my generation shared my feelings about marriage. This complacency was recently shattered. Last December, my best friend Sarah called me. "Guess what I got for Christmas?" she squealed. "A fur coat?" I asked. "No, I got a rock! Robin and I are engaged." I weakly congratulated her while I tried to remember who Robin was. Was he the artist with severe acne problems? Maybe he was the drugged up pseudo poet? Ever since seventh grade, Sarah has had a different boyfriend every two months. Each one becomes the new love of her life and I have been known to get them confused. It turned out that Robin was an aspiring actor/musician she had met at school. She went on and on about how great he was. I wasn't listening very well, though. I kept telling myself it couldn't be true. My best friend of 12 years couldn't be engaged to be married. I keep trying to picture Sarah saying, "til death do us part." Every time, I then pictured myself dragging her out of the church and escaping to freedom on a Greyhound, like in The Graduate. I was sure she would soon call it off, that she would see what a ridiculous idea marriage is at 20. But now, six months later, she's still wearing the diamond and they are planning next summer's wedding. Hell, I'm even a bridesmaid. Why does this upset me so much? I should be happy for her. I met Robin recently and he seems like a nice enough guy. He did wear bright orange pants and a fisherman's hat for three days in a row, but we all have our little problems. Honestly, there's no logical reason for my shock and agitation. But it's there. I keep thinking about how Sarah and I used to go trick or treating dressed up as witches (we were so scary) and how we spent hours listening to New Kids on the Block tapes. I remember endless bike rides around our neighborhood and how we used to chase the ice cream truck down the street. In high school, we did our geometry homework together and had sleepovers every weekend, eating french fries and watching bad Molly Ringwald movies. And now, after our inseparable childhood, Sarah is embarking on something that I can't begin to understand or appreciate. She's going to stand up and pledge to spend her life with someone else. Her life. I've never been close enough to someone to take a vacation with them, let alone agree to stay with them until I die. I'm the queen of brief unsuccessful relationships. I've never really loved anyone. Yet while I cope with messy break-ups and struggle through awkward dates, Sarah has somehow found Mr. Right. And they've made a very adult decision -- marriage. She's becoming a grownup. Why doesn't she want to stay an irresponsible, commitment-phobic college kid like me? I guess what scares me is that this is only the beginning. As I get older, more and more of my friends may make "grownup decisions" about their careers, life goals or even relationships. I guess I may have to make a couple myself. I just hope I'm not picking out a trousseau anytime soon. While I'm adjusting to this onslaught of maturity and adulthood, I'm also bracing myself for her wedding. If I cry watching total strangers get married on TV, then I'm going to be a wreck at the first wedding of one of my friends. Still, I've told Sarah only one thing would keep me from seeing her tie the knot -- Laura Ashley floral bridesmaid dresses Because you never know; there may be some cute groomsmen there.

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