The Cipro pumping through my body whispers a sweet, "Everything will be ok."

When I was a little cherub of only five years old, my mother took me to a specialist who assured her my recurrent urinary tract infections were no big deal, I just had a short ureter, thus ensuring any bacteria that chose to make the journey would only need to travel a very short distance before getting to my bladder. So these infections, they're nothing new. But this morning, feeling that old familiar pain, even after days of chugging cranberry juice each morning like some 90-year-old on a juice regime, I decided that this body I've known all my life was the enemy, and I lashed out against it. J, lucky boy, got to watch me lose it as I wondered what good going on antibiotics AGAIN would do because I would never, ever be free of this body and its incredibly painful tendencies. I told him I just couldn't go to the doctor again, because wouldn't that make me a wimp who can't stand the pain for one day? But I couldn't go to work because HE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT THIS FELT LIKE and how could he even suggest I go to work and try to stand there even though I'd have to run to the bathroom every THREE SECONDS...HOW could I possibly do that? So he suggested I go to the doctor and I told him BUT AREN'T THE DRUGS INFLICTING SOME LONG TERM HARM ON MY PRECIOUS BODY? So he suggested I ride it out for a day and I reminded him that the bacteria can get into your kidneys and that the pope pretty much died of a urinary tract infection. And even though he falls asleep with all his clothes on and contacts in on the couch regularly and tells me, "I'm not ready to go to BED!" when I try to move him, I do realize that J puts up with a lot like the other night when he was sitting in the bed eating Fritos and said:

J.A.M.: What if I got really fat one day? Would you love me?

C.M.R.: Yes. Will you still love me if I get fat?

J.A.M. Of course.

C.M.R. I'm fat now.

J.A.M. No you're not.

C.M.R. Yes I am.

J.A.M. You're not, but why don't you try and work out every day until the wedding? It would make you feel better.

C.M.R. I'm not working out every day until the wedding.

J.A.M. Why not?

C.M.R. How would I do that? What about when we go out of town to all these places?

J.A.M. You could work out at the hotels...?

C.M.R. No.

J.A.M. What about working out every other day?

C.M.R. I could do that. Maybe you could do that with me?

J.A.M. I don't need to do that.

C.M.R. Why?

J.A.M. I'm thin.

C.M.R. I'M THIN TOO!

This one gets a little sappy, don't say I didn't warn you

For those of you who went to high school and seemed even marginally intelligent you'll remember a time of life - those "carefree" years from, oh, about 10th to 12th grade that were actually a motherload of stress - when all anyone could say, upon discovering your age and that you were, indeed, intent upon graduation, was "Have you thought about where you'd like to go to college?" And you'd say, "Well..." and launch into a rehearsed speech that you actually never meant to rehearse but were forced to once you realized that Oh MY GOD this is all you were ever going to be asked about ever again. First you were pleasant and then you started having uncomfortable desires to maybe maim these question-askers, maybe just a little bit because didn't they just hear you have the exact same conversation with that guy over there how could they not have heard that HOW???!!! Even if you didn't realize it, this is usually a young person's most memorable introduction to the notion that people - they get really really into stuff and sometimes they won't shut up and this sometimes lends a sort of warped importance to things and can really make a person tense.

It's a lot like that with the wedding. I have been introduced for the last nine months as "This is Cara she's getting married," and that is then all I talk about for the remainder of the social event, period. Ok, ok. A lot of the time I talk about my dogs, also, but I'm not exaggerating that much.

I'm not going to be a fool and say I resent this attention. We chose to have a big wedding and so that is what we will talk about. Plus, this engagement stuff - it's pretty great. There's all these parties. I'm wearing this kickass ring that I really like a whole lot. I'm going to Vegas. I'm using a new word (fiance) in regular conversation and I'm buying new clothes because I need new clothes for the honeymoon and parties and so I can be a properly dressed and very subservient wife (who wears ribbed tank tops from J. Crew that were totally, totally on sale big time.)

The point I'm trying to get at here is that people keep asking me these questions that I'm not sure I get - the number one question I don't get being: Are you getting nervous? Well. I hope not, right? That's the answer, isn't it? I'm a little nervous about how the gulls keep pooping on the pier my family just had fixed and how that's not the best for wedding day pictures, but even that sends a shiver of giddiness through me because all I can think is "WEDDING DAY PICTURES THAT IS SO FUN!"

See, we went to this party over the weekend. Our friend Tom and his family have an annual bash in their back yard. We all drink beer from kegs in bathtubs, and Tom and J and their friends play music and sing on a makeshift stage. Now my fiance (now regular in my vocabulary) was up there playing his guitar and singing and he looked very, very cute and I felt just like I did when I first met him in a crowded room the night before our mutual friends got married and he said "Hello" and I thought, "Oh dear Lord this is going to be a problem, but a good problem," so no, see, I'm not nervous. I'm just fulfilling this thing that started - this thing that had to happen - nearly four years ago. It's easy. The college thing? That's a little harder. People love to talk about college endlessly and how it was the best time of their life and all, and you should just tell them to shut it, honestly. Actually, I take that back. They could be on the board of one of your top five and could score you some points so talk the talk, but just don't worry is all I'm saying. Once you get in and situated you can sleep in late and eat pizza at midnight, drink beers out of the mini-fridge in your room and probably gain a little weight that first year but it's cool. It happens to everyone.