On April 6, I will stand under the chuppah and marry Adam.

As we've been planning the wedding, I've come to understand that the process somewhat mirrors a relationship itself. There will be times I want to wring his neck, times I'm teary with joy, and times that we're just plain laughing.

Yesterday we sat at World Ground Cafe and wrote our vows. Earlier in the afternoon we got the marriage license and sat joking with the clerk as she printed up the information.

This has been a special time for us. It certainly hasn't been without challenges, but it's been very, very special. When we stand before Rabbi Adam (or, if Rabbi Adam is for some reason terribly delayed, my brother), the work will show itself in the reward.

But I've deliberately planned this wedding to not be the end of the road. I've tried to be as low-key as possible, even in times of stress. I don't want to be one of those brides who walks down the aisle all coy, while everyone else hates her because she made their lives miserable for a year. Not my style.

Besides, we have plans. On April 10, four days after we're married, we're seeing Arlo Guthrie on the UC Berkeley campus. Two days later, we're seeing Carrie Fisher perform at the Berkeley Rep. And on April 15, I turn 34.