Sunday Journal

Otherwise engaged

By BRITTA STEINER
© St. Petersburg Times
published February 16, 2003

Right now I am supposed to be compiling thoughtful reflections from my recent trip to Berlin. I am also supposed to be reading Camus for a grad school assignment, cleaning the house and attacking the pile of unopened mail shoved into the overflowing shoe box by the front door. Instead, I am staring into the sparkling sea of colors and light that radiates from my left-hand ring finger. If I position it just right, I can see all the colors of the rainbow one by one as I circle my finger ever so slightly. Magenta, blue, purple, green, yellow, orange. A kaleidoscope of possibilities.

I have been engaged for just over one month. And I find it impossible to think (or talk, or dream) about anything else. Since the moment I whispered the word "yes," an entire world has opened up to me, a subculture where the password is a newly bedazzled finger, a private world that educates young maidens on the pages and pages of protocol necessary to move through this rite of passage. And oh, is there much to learn.

Our fiances wonder in disdain what the hell happened to their ambitious, fun girlfriends when they come home from work to find us buried under multiple layers of 5-inch-thick magazines, scribbling down notes about invitation recommendations, floral arrangement ideas or discounted bridal gown stores (even though we all know we'll end up at the top-of-the-line bridal salon and spend four times as much as we'll care to admit).

Our friends listen patiently to our newfound language: fondant, organza, blind embossing, tulle. They consider reminding us that one month ago, we did not know the difference between organza and tulle. That one month ago, we did not even know how to pronounce tulle, but instead, they smile sweetly and will soon stop returning our calls.

Which is why previously normal women such as myself spend so much time with our new invisible friends found in wedding Web site chat rooms. Web sites like the Knot offer a subculture of women equally obsessed, who are perfectly willing to discuss every aspect of wedding planning without ever expecting the obligatory "so what's going on with you?" talk we must keep up with nonengaged friends.

My first time in one of these chat rooms, I was the outsider, the skeptic, the "I'm just gonna see what these girls really talk about, and use it as material to get a few laughs out of my single friends" person. The wedding-specific lingo was off-putting at first. I read posts from girls that said things like: "I just don't know what to do about my STDs. Any advice?" and "Help! My BM and I aren't talking."

I quickly realized that no, the poor girl did not have some horrible disease, but rather a dilemma of how to creatively inform her guests to Save the Date of her wedding. And the Brides Maids are the ones not talking (no need to make an analogy out of that one).

As I continue to explore these virtual, never-ending fairyland forests, plugging my information into their (free) planning software and bonding with women like me across the country, I wonder, what did women do before the Web? And what will the others and I do once our weddings are over? Will I encounter these women later in life, when the Knot becomes the Nest? Will bas9665, who once gave me helpful recommendations about guest hotels in Sarasota, someday counsel me on burp-free bottle design?

"Remember me?" a male's voice says from behind my desk. "Your fiance?" I guess he wants to spend some time together, even though the new issue of In Style Weddings sits on my desk, unopened. "Come on," I plead. "This is the one time in my life I get to be a princess."

"And what's in it for me?" he asked.

I paused to consider, knowing "planning the honeymoon" was not a satisfactory answer. So instead, I shrugged my shoulders, mentally composing my next post in the chat room. Subject: What to do with our fiances.

-- Britta Steiner is a freelance writer who works for a literary agent in New York City.

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