About a year and a half ago, my friend S. got married. This was notable for a few reasons. Chief among these was that almost no one in my close social circle had gotten married in years. After a period in my twenties of at least a wedding or two a year, there was a bit of a dry spell. And suddenly, S. met a lovely man (B.) and soon thereafter became engaged. They married. And then the floodgates opened.
S. says that she was a stubborn pickle--you know, the one that gets stuck in the neck of a jar, keeping the rest from being pulled out. Thus, the rest of us were the stuck pickles. Or something like that.
S. got married, and the rest of us followed. I got engaged about six months after that. Then, S.'s former roommate, another of my closest friends. Next, my roommate J. (the female J.) got engaged. But that could have been the result of her moving into my bedroom, which I had recently left. That room had previously been occupied by a series of people, male and female, most of whom have now been married or gotten pretty close.
Another friend in that circle of friends just announced her engagement.
And that doesn't even count husband J.'s brother who just got married, or the two or three other members of his family who are now engaged.
This glut of weddings may or may not be related to lucky bedrooms or the liberation of S. from the metaphoric pickle jar. But the winds are changing, and they smell like buttercream frosting and champagne.
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