Trying on dresses is hard work

I met my friend Jen at a bridal shop earlier this evening to keep her company, along with her other friends and sister, whilst she tried on dress after dress after dress, diving into the various satin, silk, and taffeta fabrics and holding her boobs in place as the back of the dress was laced up. I've known Jen for about <insert quick calculation here> two and a half years now, and she is fantastically wonderful and about to embark on the crazy journey we call marriage and I couldn't be happier for her. As expected, she was absolutely radiant as she tried on each dress and turned to face herself in the mirror. And she positively beamed when the salesperson assisting her with the dresses placed the veil on top of her head. Despite her love of sports and hippie (or what Darren would describe as granola-ish) ways, she is a girl just like the rest of us womenfolk. A girl who has bought herself a stack of wedding mags and is already planning the who, what, when, and where of what will surely turn out to be one of the most amazing days in her life. I just hope I can be there when they start dishing out the cake, 'cuz, um, who doesn't like cake, eh?