Geoffrey Long
Tip of the Quill: Archives
Everybody's getting married these days.

It's the Next Big Thing, getting married. My college roommate Mark got married to his very-longtime girlfriend Erin; my friend Josh married his not-so-longtime-but-still-loving girlfriend Amy a while back; my old friend Robin got hitched not too long ago; and my good man George finally made an honest woman out of his long-term girlfriend earlier this summer. My (younger!) cousin Phil, a cousin of my friend Laura, and Zeldman all tied the knot on Saturday. (Not to each other, you understand. Different weddings.) My friend Lis is getting hitched soon, as are two of my exes.

All of this makes me nervous. I love weddings, and it's awesome to see all these people so happy. They do, however, make me a little uncomfortable; it's unsettling to see all these great people dropping like flies. While I don't believe men have biological clocks, there's definitely a part of me that's saying, Yikes, I'd better get with the program. Which is, of course, poppycock -- I have plenty of time, and I don't even think I'm ready to get married yet. But, you know... Still. Rats.


If it helps any, my dad got married at 32.

My dad once told me that as I got older (than my teens, anyway) I'd find myself attracting better and better women.

I waited until I was thirty to marry, having attracted a woman who doesn't realize how out of my league she is.

No hurry. The time will be right when you one day realize you're spending all your time with someone you can't bear to be without.

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