I have a certain love-hate relationship with weddings.

On one hand, I'm a sucker for anything romantic (as my love for romantic comedies can testify), and seeing the bride resplendent in her wedding gown conjures images of how I'd want my own wedding dress to be (hey, honestly, who ever remembers how the groom's tux looks like?). The question of "when will my prince come" starts to appear whimsically in my mind, behind the dazed/glazed look that possesses my face as the groom leans over to kiss the bride, a husband's first kiss to his wife.

But THAT, of course, is the very double-edged sword that pinpricks my heart, not aided by the CNY-type questions of "When is it going to be your turn, ah?" that inevitably come up in any conversation that's held at a wedding/wedding reception/wedding dinner, not necessarily needing the conversation to be in any way related to one's own marital status.

"Eh, the spring rolls very nice hor."
"Yah lor. When yours ah?"
"When my what? You want me to cook spring rolls for you ah?"
"No lah. When your turn lah. Time to start looking lah you." (nudge nudge, wink wink)

Yes, I've actually been living on a mountain for the past 22 (coming 23) years of my life, secluded from anything remotely male.

So weddings can be a rude wakeup call. Especially when I just found out at S's wedding dinner yesterday (my angst aside, it was a lovely wedding. My future husband had better serenade to me as S did to hers.) that a peer of mine is EXPECTING, and has been, for 8 months.

"So when your turn ah?"

Of course, there's the small question of first finding the right guy. I'm surrounded by many of the male species, and many among them are dear friends with many merits and who will one day form the perfect fit to one-half of a couple.

But for now, for me, that's just it. Friends, but life partner? None yet.

Maybe I'm not opening my eyes big enough. Maybe I'm guilty of being the picky Singaporean woman we're often criticised to be.

However, no matter how people view me as being self-assured and independent, at the very heart of it, conservative ol' me wants to support, complement, and submit to a life partner, a best friend, the head of my future household. I don't want to wear the apron only, nor do I want to wear the pants. I want to be the Proverbs 31 wife.

Perhaps someday I'll post what I look for in my future partner - but today's not that day :)

On a totally different note, I moved one step closer to conquering my squemishness with lizards today.

Yes, that is NOT a prop. It's been affectionately named "The Mask" by its young owner (no prizes for guessing why), and is a female actually.

Since young I've always disliked lizards. Cockroaches are ok, bugs are ok, frogs are ok. Lizards? I tend to prefer to stay well clear of the slimy creatures, having this particular hidden fear that when their tails fall off, they'd jump around and wriggle into my ear...

I guess the size of this lizard's tail disqualifies that from ever happening. Though I provided free entertainment to my youth this afternoon with facial expressios I never knew I could possibly form.

The joys of youth ministry :)