The Library is going through seasonal cleaning of some kind, and my department is deleting books left and right (taking them out of the computer system and kicking them out the door). I was deleting a bunch of books and came across one titled Here Comes the Bride and so forth, by Irvin S. Cobb, published in 1925. Being a bride-to-be, I opened it up and read the first paragraph, which is just too delightful to keep to myself.
"Here comes the bride! She has been coming ever since she was born. From the hour when the nurse slipped out into the hall where the distressed father was pacing back and forth like a caged lion and told him it was a girl, she has been progressing toward the blessed estate of matrimony. All that has gone before in her life has only been prepartion for the great step she is about to take. Behind her stretch the years of her babyhood, her childhood, her budding youth. Ahead of her, arched in by rainbows of hope and shot with the star-dust of her maidenly dreams, lies womanhood and wifehood and, very possibly--unless she expects to take up housekeeping in one of those city apartments where children are barred, but dogs are not--motherhood."
After I picked myself up off the floor, I had a few thoughts.
1. The second sentence. I didn't know that was possible, but holy crap.
2. Of course she's been progressing toward the blessed estate of matrimony. Is there anything else to progress toward? Psh.
3. I don't know about you, but I always see rainbows of hope and star-dust of maidenly dreams. All the dang time. I had to get special pills to make them go away.
It's like Irvin S. Cobb looked into the future and saw my life and wrote it down! I love star-dust and rainbows! I've never been a real person unless a man participated and acknowledged my being! I can't wait until I'm married and can begin looking forward to womanhood and wifehood and motherhood, unless we get one of those pesky city apartments and our hopes for children wither and die under the iron-fisted rule of the homeowner's association!