First comes love, then comes marriage...

Andrew and Alexis, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g...

We all know the nursery rhyme. We learned it in kindergarden or early on in elementary school, and used it to mercilessly taunt our classmates to tears as it was a well-known fact that any association with the opposite sex would undoubtedly lead to a full-blown case of the cooties.

In middle school, when we started realizing that -- hey -- Kevin Miller's silver braces kinda matched that silver sparkle in his brooding eyes that I hadn't ever noticed before, our friends teased us with the same old singsong to get us to blush as we passed that certain someone in the hall.

When we convinced our parents to lower their shotguns long enough for us to go on an actual date in high school, we realized that two teens sitting alone in a tree would, in fact, lead to the k-i-s-s-i-n-g. As would sitting in a movie theater, on a bench at the mall, on a cardboard box in your school's art supply closet, or any other surface that could sustain your combined weight.

As adults, a once silly rhyme has become a sort of blueprint for many of us. Like most of my friends, I stumbled upon the elusive "love" for the first time in college. Then I was lucky enough to actually hold onto it.

And after that love, we girls all know what's supposed to come then. But getting there once you've said "yes" isn't as easy as the rhyme.

Some of my girlfriends have been dreaming up every last detail of the day they'll say "I DO" since they were tall enough to reach Martha Stewart Weddings on the magazine rack in the check-out line at the supermarket. Others, like myself, are downright clueless brides-to-be.

After the shock of the rock (ohmygod it's big! it's shiny! it's mine!), I was hit by the magnitude of my new project: organizing a weekend of wedding events for over 200 family members and friends (we know a lot of people) without any major disasters, all the while staying within our modest budget. At first, it seemed the check list would be pretty straightforward -- find a priest, find a venue, find a chef and hit the liquor store. Bam, I'm done. But then I quickly realized that planning a party of that scale in a city defined by social and political gatherings 365 days out of the year was no easy task. In every step I take, I'm competing with the Fund for Orphaned 3-Legged Korean Puppies for space, services, prices, and even the most basic necessity for an event: an open date on the calendar. I am diving headfirst into churning, murky wedding waters and hoping I float.

I'm happy to say that I'm not going-it totally alone. I have some great friends who've already blazed the trail ahead of me and have offered up their advice and wedding books (wedding books? what are those?), others who have great connections to vendors and venues all over Washington DC, and a great fiance who is willing to go above and beyond the traditional groom duties of booking the limo and buying his tux. With the right luck, the right advice, and the right help, I may just pull this thing off... and through my musings, may even help another bride that is just as clueless as me.

First comes love, then comes marriage. As for the rest of the rhyme? We won't be singing that part anytime soon.