I'm not sure what compelled me to select Anna Karenina for my casual reading in the week before my daughter's wedding--after all, the novel doesn't exactly inspire trust in the institution of marriage. On the other hand, it's probably a wiser choice than one made by another mother-of-the-bride, who insisted on using her favorite song as the processional at her daughter's wedding. The song? "Send in the Clowns."
I don't need to watch Bridezillas to know that weddings can inspire unusual behavior; all I have to do is consider the uncharacteristic actions I've recently committed:
I have had my hair cut at a salon that actually requires appointments.
I have purchased underwear that can be worn with only one outfit--and paid more for it than I've paid for underwear in the past five years.
I have made an appointment to have my eyebrows waxed.
I have purchased a purse just big enough to hold car keys and a handkerchief.
I know what you're thinking: "Who are you and what have you done with Bev?" But I can't help it: I seem to have been attacked by some sort of virus that weakens my will and compels me to do things I've never considered doing before. I'm glad the wedding is less than a week away because if this doesn't stop soon, there's no telling what sort of wacky compulsions might come my way. Someone stop me before I paint my toenails!
If marriage causes the malady, maybe Tolstoy will provide the cure.
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