Honk If You Believe In Love

This weekend was what Claire Scholl and I had dubbed "The Wedding of the Century." A summer's worth of showers, wedding-centric phone conversations and anticipatory girlish squealing culminated in a stunning ceremony Friday. My roommate and best friend Melissa Hartwig became Melissa Weaver, and I stood, cried and straightened her veil as maid of honor.

During the reception, some friends and I decorated Eric and Melissa's getaway car with streamers, balloons and "Just Married" streaked across the back. On one window I wrote "Honk if you believe in love." Melissa told me she and Eric were attracting nonstop honks this weekend as they left town for the honeymoon.

What I love about weddings is that the joy between two people multiplies. The happiness between two people who care about each other goes public in a ceremony that enraptures the senses -- the food is delicious, the flowers are fragrant, the music is rich and the dress takes your breath away.

Love spreads. It makes cynics reconsider, it makes rotten days better, it brings people together. I'm sure the wedding of the century was expensive, but I think it was an investment that impacted anyone who saw it.

I guess I should honk, because I believe in love and the power of something like a wedding to bring joy into an often-drab world.