The Background
I've never pictured myself the typical bride. If and when I fantasized about the Big Day, I envisioned a kick-ass party with my family and friends—at a Vegas hotel, to be totally honest—but never was I wearing a pouffy white dress, and my hair definitely wasn't curled into ringlets. The groom was a faceless man, about six feet tall, and built like Clooney (who, in reality, is considerably shorter—hey, it's a fantasy). And I was walking down the aisle toward the rabbi to the tune of "Fool in the Rain" by Led Zeppelin.
Without too much psychoanalysis, let's just say I've always wanted the unattainable...
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