Carlos says his pregnant fiance is paranoid

Yeah, so I'm watching Maury Povitch...what of it?
I have been so disgustingly remiss in my blogging this month that I actually felt guilty, like I've been skipping class or something.
I'm finding that my obsessive personality and planning a wedding are very funny bed fellows. I have watched EVERY damn wedding show on TLC and Oxygen (I've even started using comcast's new ON DEMAND feature to watch EVERY wedding related television show known to man). We're talking hours people! Hours of me sitting on the futon in my underwear wth pen and paper sketching gowns, writing down the names of designers, names of flowers, and hoping and praying that I don't turn into a psycho mega-bitch in white on my big day.
I'm fairly certain that I won't be calling my mom an idiot or telling my dad to "get the fuck out!" (Dudes, these wedding shows are awesome, I'm telling you) So, I'm already one step ahead of the wedding crazies.
I got my dress!!! I took my closest girlfriends to "Fantasy Bridal"...(they don't mean to humiliate us, by making us say such things, really). The second dress I tried on sent all of us into a fit or "ooooooo's" and "ahhhhhhh's." I was even impressed with myself, which is really saying something. After being told I was "busty" several times, this adorable older lady referred to me as having a "tiny waist." ME! TINY. WAIST. I don't know that I've ever heard those words in reference to myself before, but I would hear them again several times while wearing and ordering this dress. It's plain, strapless and chiffon. Yep, strapless and I didn't even feel like a big armed bubba. Here it is...only, mine doesn't have the sparkly beads and I'm not a ten foot tall snake