I know, I know...the 15 minutes are over

When you tell people that you're recently engaged, the first thing they ask after saying congratulations is, "Let's see the ring!" Okay, so it's not so much of a question as it is a mandate, but you get the idea. The day I got engaged I obviously did not realize I'd be sporting a glamorous rock by the end of the day, a rock that every person I'd encounter over the next three weeks would grab my hand and demand to see. That hand, at the time, was covered in unpolished, chipped nails, scabby cuticles, and cat scratches. This is nothing unusual...suffice it to say that hand-modeling has never been a career option for me. My father told me once that my grandmother used to wake up with inexplicable scratches on her hands, which she would justify by saying, "The witches got to me in the night." My grandmother's witches have been working their mischief on my hands for as long as I can remember, and they apparently were also unaware or simply did not care that my fingers would be under scrutiny for the next few weeks. And man, did they look miserable next to the splendor and beauty that is a brand-spanking-new diamond.

I know, I know...the fact that my hands were a mess should not matter given the joyous occasion, but please don't judge me for immediately heading to the nail salon the next morning for a celebrity upgrade. I didn't see anyone other than the family I was spending Thanksgiving with that first night I was engaged, but the experience was enough to tell me what I was in for. Literally one minute after I said "Yes," my sister was already asking me what color the bridesmaids would be wearing (to which I responded "coral pantsuits"...she dropped it after that). Pictures were being taken, I kept spontaneously getting hugged, my mother kept holding my hand, and everyone had wedding questions. Granted, I've been envisioning my wedding for years, but now that I could actually start verbalizing those ideas out loud without feeling pathetic, I was coming up blank. "I don't know what month I want to get married in; I don't know what kind of centerpieces; I don't know how I'm going to wear my hair; I don't know which hall." I suddenly realized that I'd pictured it happening so many times over so many years in so many different ways that now I had accumulated too many choices and couldn't make a decision, or even an opinion, about anything!

Now I know you must be rolling your eyes, fully aware that Dave and I just got engaged and there's no reason to be stressing about this stuff yet, which is exactly what I said to everyone who asked me these questions. The problem is that once my thoughts start in one direction, it's hard to reel them back in. The rest of the weekend was lost in celebrations. I flashed my newly polished hand, held tight to Dave, and laughed and smiled and laughed and smiled and...it was a great weekend. Everything else about my reality seemed make-believe. What job? What mortgage? Is someone leaving for Scotland? Nah! Let's all watch how my ring sparkles when the light hits it!

As we were going to bed that Sunday, I suddenly realized how unproductive I'd been. There was a huge stack of papers I was supposed to have graded, especially since grades were due that week. There were parent meetings to prepare for, a lesson observation quickly approaching, and I had absolutely nothing planned for class the next day. Sure, I have free periods and I could always go in early, but all I wanted to talk about was getting engaged. With a sinking heart, I realized I would have to decide between going around all day telling people I was engaged and jumping up and down and squealing OR lesson planning, grading, etcetera. Can you guess which option won out?

I didn't really have a choice in the matter; news spread quickly and I was only too happy to talk about it. In fact, I became nervous that I was talking too much about it. Perhaps immediately after getting engaged it's acceptable to want to talk about the experience and your plans, and people genuinely seem curious and interested. However, now that it's been a few weeks, I still find myself wanting to bring it up in lieu of talking about other, less self-centered topics. I never thought I'd say this, but the constant thinking about the wedding is starting to alter how I spend the majority of my time. My books have been replaced with internet searches for save-the-dates and halls, my stack of papers to grade have been pushed aside for wedding magazine perusal, and I'm now a danger on the roads because the sparkle of my ring keeps distracting me.

I've been making a big effort not to let the engagement go to my head, and to remind myself that other people do not want to talk about weddings all the time. So I keep the magazines at home for nighttime reading, and I try to only discuss planning issues with my mom and bridesmaids. And, of course, there's this blog where I can now write about weddings till my fingers break off , but friends and family can read only if they're actually interested and want to.

If, however, I should forget and begin to bore you in person with wedding talk, remind me that I've already made a vow in the wedding process:

"Do you, Daniela, promise not to obsessively talk about weddings and become a bridezilla?"

"I do."