"We are so over. We need a new word for over."

I've never mentioned that in addition to being the Jewish Girl in Wasp's Clothing, I'm also the Southern Belle in Northern Hell. I was in the South this past weekend and it was wonderful to be back. I miss it dearly. It deserves its own post, or set of posts, really.

One of the things I love most about the South is the sense of tradition. Whether it be sorority rush or sweet tea, everything has a true purpose and meaning. One of the many deep-rooted Southern beliefs is that a Southern girl should get married young and start a family soon after. Many young women below the Mason-Dixon Line are in a rush to tie the knot.

New York City? Not so much. The only things that people here are in a rush to get to are work and the Barney's Warehouse Sale.

Suffice it to say, I know a lot of girls my age who are engaged. I was lavaliered in college, and we all know how that story ends. It seems as though every time I turn around, someone else has a ring on their finger, another wedding has come and gone. My mother was married at my age. I am nowhere close.

I'm not bitter; quite the contrary. I look forward to the world of possibilities that await me. I am a natural caretaker. I have no doubt in my mind that I am meant to be a wife and a mother.

This does not, however, mean that I am interested in looking at engagement photos of girls whom I do not even consider acquaintances. If for no other reason than the simple one that I have better things to do with my time. So stop asking.

Speaking of diamonds...

It's TIFFANY. T I F F A N Y. Nowhere, in that name, is there an 'S'. Yet almost every twenty-something girl with an affinity for the little blue box I encounter refers to it as "Tiffany's". This is incorrect. Drop the S. You don't sound like a true fan.

Personally, I'm a fan of the little red box.