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I was not the girl who woke up for the Charles-and-Di wedding. My Barbies got it on with Ken, but they never married him. I played army, not princess. But the years of not caring about walking down the aisle ended for me in one fell swoop. At the age of twenty-four my friend Tracey got married. Hers was the first wedding in our friendship circle. And while Tracey was prepping and trying to gather her nerves before the ceremony, we, her single girlfriends, who had no idea how to help her, spied her veil. One by one, we tried it on like little girls playing dress-up. We each took a turn admiring ourselves in the mirror and even took photos of each other playing Bride. You hear about women holding a baby and realizing that they just have to be a mom—well, when I donned that veil I knew that what I really wanted was to get married, and not just because I looked so fantastic in it. The wedding was moving, and seeing Tracey and Brian as happy as they were together made me feel something that I hadn’t expected: jealousy. I felt like Veruca Salt: I want a dress! I want a wedding! I want to call someone my husband!

I was twenty-four, not dating anyone, and in fact I had never had a real boyfriend, so really, what business did I have trying on veils and going all Veruca? Not only was I not next in line, I wasn’t in the lineup at all! You know the girl that other girls hang out with when they want a “fun night out” or they are in between boyfriends? That was me. I was the girl who had a ton of boy friends, but not a lot of boyfriends. (Hookups don’t count.) Being the perma-single girl of all my friends had never been my favorite role. Before Tracey’s wedding I didn’t sweat it much. I was young, having fun, and “dating around,” even if most of my dates were one-hit wonders. I wasn’t really sure of what I wanted in life, but that wedding changed things for me.

As more of my friends began coupling up, my single status became a sore topic for me. I didn’t want to be the fifth wheel anymore. Every new bit of engagement news became a reminder that not only would my credit card be taking a $100 hit (minimum, not including tax or shipping), but that I was alone and falling behind.

Then I met Tommy and we moved in together after dating for a year. At the time, I was working at an advertising agency, which was staffed mostly by women under thirty. Weddings, you can probably guess, were the hot topic. One by one girls were getting engaged. I learned what the “4 Cs” were (cut! clarity! carat! and color!), I learned that it is best to register at Crate and Barrel, because they let you return gifts under $100 for cash (not that I returned any of my gifts of course!), and I was hell-bent on not being the last one there to get a ring. Thus began Ring Watch 2001: The watch I got for my birthday? Not a ring. The necklace I got for our dating anniversary? Not a ring. The surprise trip to Hawaii? Nope, not a ring.

What had happened to me? The same thing I see happening to women all the time. I have friends who are single and happy—happy until their mom asks them if they are a lesbian; happy until they receive the InStyle wedding edition; happy until they hear that for every IQ point above average they are, the less likely they are to get married; happy until they get sucked into the pink section of the bookstore, filled with books promising to help them plan the perfect wedding or else find Mr. Right and then plan the perfect wedding. Then I have a friend who was happy with her boyfriend and not thinking about marriage until he handed her a blue box for Christmas (which contained a platinum band with diamonds on it) and said, “This isn’t an engagement ring.” Merry Christmas!

I am writing this book for all of them. Not just for the girl who has a stack of Bride magazines in her closet, or the girl who has a wedding binder with torn-out magazine pages of flowers, colors, and gift ideas “just in case,” or the girl who TiVos A Wedding Story. Even the most independent young women can find themselves caught up in the Bridal Wave. This book is not about getting a man, keeping a man, or marrying a man. This is about keeping the crazies in check.