Handsome Wedding Guest Story

At the risk of him finding out, I have to tell you about the Handsome Wedding Guest. I may have mentioned him before--as in six years ago or so. The Wedding in question was that of my brother Nulli and Ma Belle Soeur. The Handsome Wedding Guest was a Single, Male, Catholic Uniate (whether Uki, Maronite or other, I'm not going to tell you for then all my brother's friends will guess), Doctor--tall, handsome, charming, you name it. In short, a matrimonial prize in the old-fashioned, grasping, Mrs Bennet sense of the word.

The Handsome Wedding Guest was assigned to sit at a table of Single women, which was nice for him and for us, though he soon singled out a glamorous francophone for his attentions, leaving us anglo girls in the dust. Boo. It did't even work out with the glamorous French-speaking girl, so what a waste, sigh, sigh.

The whole point to this story, however, is that he is getting married this summer, six (or is it seven?) years later, after having been Highly Eligible for Years and Years, only not having found the Right Girl until recently.

In contrast, at least two of the Single women who gazed admiringly upon him over the table are already married.

His fiancee is very pretty and very nice, belonging to his exact same ethnic group, etc., and I presume they share core values.

So all I can say is that if such a handsome and eligible man cannot find true love in a hurry, we women should not panic if we haven't found it by our 25th or thirtieth birthday. It is a total myth that we look worse at thirty than we do at twenty-five anyway. It is much easier to be thirty than twenty-five. Our confidence sky-rockets the farther we get from 21, believe you me, and this makes us easier to be around as we become less chippy and defensive. We are also often smarter, not only about other people, but about ourselves.

***
Sorry I haven't transferred the Operation Valentinus sign-up sheet yet. I am most awfully busy, running around visiting people I can see only once a year, plus promoting my beautiful controversial, alarming book.

Toronto readers who want to meet up on Valentine's Day at five-thirty p.m. should send me an email for the location. There have already been eager inquiries from male fans, and thus there is need for secrecy. I am not in the matchmaking business; I am all about you feeling good about being chaste (or working on being chaste) Singles, not feeling eager to give up this holy freedom ASAP. Therefore, no boys allowed.

Personally, I am still so relieved I was Single when I was thirty-eight, which is when I met my husband B.A. And meanwhile, proving that married love is not the only kind, I must go and spend more time with the rest of my family and my Canadian friends and mentors while I can.