Eating non-tuberous non-oniony indistinguishable piles of green-and-yellow off leafs gets really old really fast. Not even the allure of gossip can salvage your soul when you've to wake up at four every morning. And let's face it, generations of in-breeding ensures all of my family only know a limited set of jokes and still think they're hilarious.
Yet there's nothing like an arranged marriage to make you believe in love. I think there's a certain brand of innocence there that nothing else in these cynical times can quite replicate.*
I cried non-stop at this wedding, which is a definite first. Of course, I only cried on the INSIDE, because having woken up at three thirty to do my face, I wasn't in the mood to ruin it on an emotional moment.
*With due disclaimers that I'm talking about non-forced, sensible-aged, completely bride-and-groom decided unions with sufficiently long engagement periods.
I generally cry inside at weddings of any sort.
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