“Another brother?!  I already have two!”
-Snickers, my 11 year old sister

J. asked, I said yes.  And ever since then I’ve had a perma-grin plastered all over my face.  Plus a Miles-ian litany of “I’m getting married.  To this man.  Isn’t he handsome?  And smart and funny?  Mine, mine, all mine!” running through my head on a non-stop basis. 

Since J. and I have tended to be rather closed mouths about the whole thing (see Fig. 1), here’s a few useless facts : we’ve been dating almost 11 months, known each other for 3 years, have about 50 mutual friends, have 7 siblings combined, and have a foot height difference between the two of us.  There, now you know us.

J.’s family was quietly happy when he broke the news, mine shrieked the roof down.  J.’s the youngest in his family with three married older siblings, so this sort of occasion is more or less family business as usual…I’m the oldest child, oldest grandchild on both sides, the oldest female cousin, and the only one legally old enough to get married.  I have no idea what I’m doing throwing a wedding together and my family is on another continent, unable to be press ganged into service. 

Now, your millions of questions:
1) The ring is fabulous!  It’s an EMERALD solitaire (for all of you who didn’t know, I don’t like diamonds)
2) Date is tentatively July 1st
3) Yes, I know what the dress is going to look like (don’t you wish you did!)
4) I have no idea what I’m doing but have determined to fake it charmingly!
5) No, I don’t know what “our colors” are going to be, nor do I much care.  Stop asking.
6) Mine, mine, all mine!