gratitude-a-thon day 2064: the best, the worst and will smith

And here we are, the morning after the slap heard round the movie-loving world. Listen, I get the whole sticking up for your woman thing, but to march up on stage and smack the comedien host for a joke? That’s just some really bad theatrics, an optics nightmare for a publicist and plain and simple unacceptable violence. In fact it’s actually called assault in the legal world. Better reactions are obvious–for instance not laughing post-joke, and instead nodding your head back and forth as Jada did, and mouthing “no” would have adequately gotten the point across. Or, walking out of the arena while Rock was onstage would have also been a high road way of showing disapproval. I gotta say, I thought I’d see good fashion and bad fashion and what the hell were you thinking fashion, but not a moment that was upsetting, embarrassing and took focus away from other’s who were being honored for their career bests. I loved Will Smith’s performance as Richard Williams, but Will Smith himself, not so much after that dramatic turn.

BUT, let’s get to the clothes! It was mega fun to see people back on the carpet without that pesky accessory, the mask. So many really brought the looks this year. All that isolation made for some good sartorial choices. Of course, not everybody planned wisely. And if they did, what fun would that be?

The no good, very bad red carpet looks you’d avoid wearing unless you were being held hostage by Putin.

BILLIE IE didn’t-know-what-to-wear-so-I-wore-something-all-of-my-fans-could-fit-into-with-me LISH.

Remember when Carol Burnett tore down the drapes and wore them in her take-off of Gone with the Wind? That’s where my head went. We know Billie likes a voluminous silouhette, but this was all-out circus tent chic. Look at her expression. Even she knew this was a roomy disaster.

EVA VAN BAHR gets religion.

In the name of the father, the son and the holy spirit, what in God’s name do we have here? I love the bag. I mean, carrying around a full-on head seems kinda fun. But this is all-out atrocious. Even the cherubs couldn’t save this look. Amen.

Knock knock, who’s there, oh, it’s MAGGIE GYLLENHAAL.

I don’t love an architectural dress to start with, but lined with decorative door knockers AND an actual HOOK and I’m just out. Yes, she can direct, yes, she can act, but no, she should not be able to dress by herself ever again.

NAOMI great SCOTT, I forgot to press my dress.

Perhaps you can’t see it in this pic, but the hem of the cape, as well as the bottom hem of this dress looked like it’d never seen an iron in its ugly little life. Unflattering, giving her a tummy where I’m sure there probaby isn’t one, and calling up chest shields from ancient times, this was a head to toe no. She played Jasmine in Alladin, but this was no Disney princess look. Next time say Press to the Dress.

JESSICA CHASTAIN may have The Eyes of Tammy Faye, but not for colors that match.

I love the top of this gown. Talk about color matching your hair to your dress–winner, winner, chicken dinner. But rust and lilac? That’s like ketchup on cereal, mud on ice cream, Will hitting Chris–just wrong.

TRACEE ELLIS ROSS who’s boobs were the boss.

Oh boy, one wrong move and those girls are leaving home. Good thing she donned her cape when she presented, or we could have had a full-on Janet Jackson at the Super Bowl moment. This Mickey Mouse top is ill-fitting and well, in my humble currently-wearing-my-flannel-dog-pajamas-right-now-opinion, just ugly. But the necklace, yeah, I’d like to have that little gem around my neck.

MAYA I’m going to be comfortable or I’m not going RUDOLPH.

You get to a certain point where you look at a waistband like it’s an evil spirit who will eat your family. But orange you just a little sorry you donned this peignoir-inspired triangle, Maya?

DIANE just because you can write, doesn’t mean you can get dressed up WARREN.

She has about a bajillion hit songs, but this suit was just unsuitable. I mean, I know, pants are her thing, but the wearing o’ the green with black? No. A necklace that belongs on another look? No. A gold heart pin that has no simpatico with the silver at her neck? No. That’s a no, a no, and yes, a no.

And those who hit it outta the Dolby Theater, clear into my fashion BEST EVER diary. There were lots of Do’s here, so had to cut it down to the the Do-iests.

ZENDAYA As MC Hammer said back in the day, “U Can’t Touch This.”

This head-to-toe bit of heaven knocked me out, but not before I kept repeating the word “perfect” on a loop. My co-watchers were like, “shut up, already.” But I couldn’t contain my overwhelming adoration and began to sound like a broken record. My sister called to say, “This is it, right?” (Boy, does she know me.) This combo of classic and modern is just so 100%. It’s casual glamour, it’s modern cool, it’s the fucking best look I’ve seen in years and years. I would marry this outfit, but I’m already married.

LUPITA NYONG’O is a go (and a glow).

God, I love bling. Bring the bling, I say. But never has it hit the carpet like this dress. This was like “DO NOT ADJUST YOUR SET, THIS IS THE NEW BRIGHT.” I really loved this look. And while some people might say it’s too much, I found it to be just enough. The hair kept the whole thing modern and that smile, well, it’s always as bright as the dress.

KIRSTEN DUNST red it right.

This was like The Great British Bake Off had a frosting contest and the winner got to cover Kirsten in it. If only she’d worn matching lipstick, this would have been a 10, but even without, the sublime fit and simple hair were pretty close to perfect.

SOFIA CARSON just tulling around.

I am all about tulle. If I could get away wearing it on a daily basis, I would.(Can you see me in my LuLu’s with some tulle on the ass?) This dress is every single thing. The shape, the volume, the color. This dress still has me drooling. Her hair scores an A and her makeup is on point. This is princess meets perfect.

VANESSA HUDGENS has grown up and out of high school.

Sleek and sparkly, this is one gorg number. Vanessa has brought a lot of great looks to the carpet this season, and this one kills. Hair is modern, but glamourous for a really stunning look.

Ok, people, aside from Worst Scene in an Academy Award Show given to Will Smith, what were your faves? Please share. We need the fun.

gratitude-a-thon day 2063: spring forward

There are buds on the trees. The crocus in my tiny front garden are blooming. The air is not yet humid, but fresh and screaming “no more big, stupid coats.” I am going to go out on a leafy limb here and tell you I put away my shovels (which could very well mean there will be one at least one more snow, so sorry for that).

It’s spring. It’s finfally hope-inducing, get-out-your-gardening-gloves, love-is-in-the-air spring. That time of year when days grow longer and even lagging spirits rise like a helium balloon. Aside from the spectacular allergies, I cherish spring. Nature being all self-centered is pretty hard to resist.

This spring feels especially important, as the world feels crazy and unpredictable in so many ways. (I feel like I’ve been saying this a lot over the last few years–is this the new normal?) So, get on out there on a bike or a hike, or buy some pansies, and pull out the lawn furniture. Clean the grill, go sit at an outdoor cafe, haul out the summer clothes, and open the fucking windows. It’s spring, a fashion show of earthly delights. And something to be sneeze, sniff, cough, where-is-my-allergy-spray damn grateful for.

gratitude-a-thon day 2062: use a magnifying glass if you have to

I lost a glove last week. And it made me cry. Uh huh, in the Whole Foods parking lot.

It wasn’t even a glove I liked. The fit was a little wonky and I’m not a big Michael Kors fan and they had his silly logo. But the loss took me.

Maybe it’s because I lost a first cousin a few weeks ago, and I’m losing my 14 year old dog a little more every day and the loss I am seeing in Ukraine makes my heart feel like it’s been set on fire, Maybe it’s because of all the loss that Covid has wreaked on us since March 2020. Maybe it’s because winter in Boston is doing it’s usual thing–boasting hopeful temperatures, one day and the very next day turning on the snow. And well, I’m not even going to bring up what the M. Night Shamalan-type horror the climate report that recently came out has had on my system.

I think a lot about gratitude when things feel overwhelmingly gray. Even though when you’re not feeling great, it feels like the last thing you want to do–see where the light shines in. But it’s exactly what can help.

It’s pretty easy to look at images of people, who are just like you and me and your neighbor, and watch them lose their families, their homes, and their hope during a senseless war and think about how grateful you are to have all you have in your life. That’s kind of a no-brainer gratitude, but good nonetheless, it’s still noticing what you have and that reaps you benefits. But how about pushing a bit further. How about we look at all the people who are helping Ukranians. How about Jose Andres and The World Kitchen feeding those with nothing. How about the Polish women who left a bunch of strollers near the border crossing for new mom’s with babies in their arms. How about President Volodymyr Zelensky, who has no real experience in politics and has become an absolute hero to his country and the world.

Stollers left at the Polish border. A mother’s love on display. A picture of hope.

I feel a gratitude deep, deep down in for all the big and small stories of people helping to make an unspeakably awful situation better. It is the acknowledgement of this kindness and humanity that keeps me going in the face of such raw and inhuman actions. Focusing on the good in people vs the bad in people is a way to get ourselves through the horror, and a way for us to do whatever it is we can do to help others, in Ukraine, here in the US, or just on the block where you live.

See, that’s the way gratitude can make us better. We notice, we stand at attention honoring those who are the helpers, the doers, the game changers. And we bow in grace.

We need a little fun fashion round-up: SAG

Ok, so here’s the thing, I feel downright sheepish writing about fashion when Ukraine is under attack by a man who’s pants are never long enough and last week wore the same exact suit and tie two days in a row. So, let’s just get that out of the way, that I am not a grossly shallow person who takes joy in aiming arrows at the poorly dressed when others are suffering, BUT after a long slog with Covid coming to an end and a legit and I must say, very enjoyable award show on the telly last night, with actors free of masks (and in some cases, mirrors), it seemed we all might need a little fun. So, with my Ukranian grandmother’s can-do, let’s fight, I will protect my turf, and “Go fuck yourself” blood coursing through me, I will carry on my tradition of fashion slashin’ and you can judge me however you’d like, but please just make fun of my character and not my clothes.

You’re the worst.

Shari BelaFRUMPe

When the invitiation came, Shari only read the part about it being in an airplane hangar and thus dressed to fly to the land of What Not to Wear when you’re going, well, anywhere.

Piper PerabNO

Ode to the strapless dress. If it fits well, you’ve hit the fashion bullseye. But it appears that after Piper slipped into this body hugging white number, a very short tulle-obsessed bride-to-be who was trying on wedding dresses heard it was SAG and ran to the show to see if she could get in, but instead slammed into the right side of Piper’s body moving her from the best dressed list to the worst in the time you can say “I do.”

Jared LetUHOH

It’s 1975 prom season back on the ranch and Jared is all hyped up to ask his girl. So tired of his usual cow wrangling every day wear, Jared decides to go rancher glam in satin. Not just satin, baby blue satin. And not just boots, white boots. And not just a tie, a fucking maoron velvet ribbon long enough to ensure that his girl will not be going back to the hay pile with him at the end of the dance.

Jackie Hoffman stops at SAG on way to Target

Here’s how it went down. Jackie, adorable and hilarious actress that she is, had errands to do before her week began. She made her list and realized Target was the place she could get most of her needs met (cheap shoes, a wide range of non-prescription glasses). Of course, on the way, she was informed that the SAG awards were not next Sunday night, but this Sunday night and well, she just said, the hell with it, at least my shoes are comfortable.

Jada Pinkett should have (Red) Tabled this dress.

When you’re as gorgeous as Jada, you don’t even need hair to look glam, but that’s where the beauty ends. Did she put a tee from the Gap under this dress, because she was like, “Will, it’s cold, I’m throwing a layer on under this thing,” and he was too busy practicing his acceptance speech to stop her?

Amanda Brugel runs with scissors.

It’s a bed sheet, it’s a duvet, it’s a tablecloth. I don’t even know this woman, I just know, she cut arm holes into some white thing in her house and headed for the hangar.

It’s a big little lie that Reese Witherspoon could pull off this dress (She should have pulled off this dress).

I love a column dress, but This looked like she got some blue toilet paper stuck in her booty and nobody told her. Did she have lunch with Leto beforehand to discuss how absolutely fabulous the color baby blue is? Not to mention that she borrowed batman’s headpiece for top of this mess, I mean dress. Holy Horrific, someone call Robin.

Jeremy not Strong in the department of fashion.

God, I love this actor. He’s mesmerizing and seemintly effortless in his role as Kendall in Successon. They always say when you talent in one part of your life, you don’t get it in another and I guess we now know from his pink velvet suit with, (momentary complete loss of oxygen over here), BLACK SHOES exactly what the “other” is.

And now we move on to the style stars.

Vanessa Hudgens Tick, Tick, BOOM.

This is my idea of total and complete perfection. This dress fits like the damn winter gloves I keep havng to sport in this miserable New England weather. The color is subtle yet it’s rich and radiant. The cut shows off every curve, but in a becoming, not a here’s-my-vagina way. Her simple hair and absolutely glowing skin finishes off what I thought was the best thing on that carpet last night.

Emilia Jones, now hear this.

The bling, the black, the overlay, the super simple hair and minimal makeup scored 1,209,308 for me.

Kerry Washington. This is anything but a scandal.

Yield to Kerry, who rarely does wrong and yup, she hit it right again. The yellow was a standout amidst many darker colors and the cut was body hugging, while voluminous at the same time. She gets a hair award, too. This is how you do it.

Cate the Great, Blanchett

I didn’t like the little square poof that the waist of this dress had, but Cate is such an itty bitty person that it didnt highlight that weird part of the cut and the top fit so well and the whole deal was so simple and perfect, I had to call it The natural hair was also a homerun.

Cynthia Erivo, sing it, sister.

Bold red patent leather and feathers. Uh huh. When asked about her dress, the stunner said she was updating a look from Aretha, who she played in a movie. Update she did. This woman always brings it to the carpet, and she killed again last night.

Ann Dowd. Aunt Lydia would never.

Ann is my bestie’s sister and she is nothing if not spectacularly sweet and loving and warm and wonderful. Which goes to show what a truly gifted actress she is. I loved this look on her. The blue brings out her eyes. The bangs are a hit. The fit is great. She is climbing the style ranks as we speak. And hey, Annie, can I borrow that necklace?

gratitude-a-thon day 2060: the shit i’ve learned so far

Today’s my birthday. And as Oprah would say, these are the “Thing I know for sure”:

We are strong. We are stronger than any Netflix character, any super hero, any pair of Spanx. We can get through shit even a Navy Seal couldn’t get through.

We need people. You may be shy, introverted, reclusive, or quiet, but it doesn’t matter, you still need people who are your own. People who love you, who show up like Uber Eats when you need them, and who believe in your power to meet any challenge, beat any opponent, shit talk any fear in order to be the Betty White of your own life.

We need to move. No matter what age, no matter what physical challenges we have, we just have to move our bodies every single day. Whether it’s running, walking, biking, hiking, or dancing like Elaine in Seinfeld. Whether you like the fictional heart attack-inducing Peloton (And Just Like That AND Billions–a PR nightmare) or the ab-inspired PIlates, downward dogging Yoga, Rock Climbing, or the fucking Olympic event Curling, exercise is the key to mental and physical bad assery. FACT.

We need to keep growing. We need to stay engaged. Whether your’re nine or 99, we need to give ourselves permission to grow up until the moment our hearts stop beating. Learning new things, staying curious and open is one of the keys in not just being alive, but actually living. The game stops when you stop.

We need to laugh. Laughing is underrated. Have you ever not felt better when you’ve squished up your face and almost peed your pants because of someting funny? Has giving or receiving a chuckle ever failed to improve your mood or you day, or the way your body feels? The answer is no. I know the answer is no, so don’t even bother telling me because I can’t hear you anyway. Lighten up. Watch comedy. Don’t take everything so seriously. Tell a joke, or be a joke. Laughing is like one of those life saving round floaties they send you when you’re out at sea and drowning. It makes things better, your head, your bod, your friends, your family. I swear that even my dog likes it when I laugh.

We need to be compassionate and kind because we are compassionate and kind. Think of other people and where they stand. Help out when you can–physically and mentally. Whether it’s a call, a text, or a smoke signal, shoveling someone’s walk, holding a door open, or giving away that really good parking space you waited five minutes for, you can change someone’s day, mind, life. Smile at people for absolutely no reason. Make a donation. Volunteer somewhere that means something to you. Show your fellow humans some compassion and kindness and you can see how the small things you do with love can make a big difference and be a big difference, especially in this completely bizarre and crazy moment in time.

Get a dog. Rescue one, give birth to one, whatever you gotta do, but get one to share your life with. BEST THING EVER.

Be grateful. You knew it was coming. Look around constantly for the good in your world. Some days you might need a microscope. Use it. Gratitude will never ever let you down. It’s as reliable as the tax bill, and as life affirming as potato chips (and you know how I feel about those).

gratitude-a-thon day 2059: It’s 12° out, feels like 1° and fuck this pandemic

I am suffering from Coldvid. The definition: The combination of how fucking cold it is here in New England and the cockroach-hearty Covid virus. Here are my top tips for avoiding this miserable malady.

  1. Get yourself a coat that combines you-think-you’ve finally-gone-to-hell warmth, with a sleeping bag you’d take on an Arctic expedition crossed with a tent you’d lug with you to climb Mount Everest, and then throw in one of those old Grandma doily afghans for some style.
  2. Wear a hat. The cold really does escape through your head. And with Coldvid, God knows what else you may have lost from up there (like hope and the ability to socialize).
  3. Stock up on masks. Forget those cheesey cloth do-nothings and go for the suffocating KN-95s, They’re the Berlin Wall of protection. BUT, do not double up on these sturdy germ defiers, because I literally almost became a comatose sun-dried tomato in the Whole Foods line the other day while wearing two.
  4. Get comfortable with becoming a recluse. I mean, we have dogs! They are really much better people, than regular people.
  5. Go into the Home Covid test re-sell biz. Work your way to the top in two, three days. These elusive We’re-Out-Of-Them’s are more in demand than than the impossible to get, hand sanitizer I actually paid $100 for back in 2020, which were only available on ebay because of the fragrance–“Warm Holiday Treats,” which smelled like mom had been hitting the bottle, burnt the cookies and then the whole house down.
  6. Watch every single thing that every single streaming service is streaming. Go ahead. Make it a drinking game if you must.
  7. Don’t make plans. You’ll only have to cancel them. Instead make a list of the trips and events your heart was set on this year and then glory in the fact that you don’t have to do all the work of planning them. Think of the time you’ll save (to watch more Netflix)! Think of the extra money you’ll save (to buy another streaming service)!
  8. Let your hair go gray. This is a time and money saver, ladies. And let’s face it, between the cashmere pom pom hats and quarantine, who the hell is really seeing us? (I, myself, will not be doing this, as I have informed my family to dye my hair before burying me, but this seems a very reasonable thing to do right now, so enjoy.)
  9. Do something you couldn’t or wouldn’t do if it weren’t a moment in time when going out and having fun could make you sick. I am in the middle of an epic Marie Kondo bender. I am cleaning, giving away and throwing out the contents of five closets on my third floor (where everything we don’t know what to do with goes to die). Each of these closets could be its very own episode of Hoarders. Why that franchise has never called me is a mystery.
  10. Turn up the fucking heat. This is no time to be energy efficient. Give your thermometer a workout. Turn it up and the music, make some popcorn and  chill the wine (It’s Friday night and you need some way to differentiate from the other nights of the week). Tonight start the new season of Ozark. Yup, this is what serves as a badass Coldvi weekend.

gratitude-a-thon day 2059: mother love and loss

My mom died on this day 31 years ago. A lot of people have a sad “my mom died” story. I have one, too. The thing is, every one of them is the different, but every one of them is the same. There is a certain poignancy to losing that person who actually carried you inside of themselves for close to a year. This is a concept I have actually lived and still it seems like a notion from alien nation. I sort of hate when people say, “It’s a miracle,” but I do think that carrying a baby around inside of your body merits “miracle” as a description. No breaks, no time outs, no cut loose nights of too many cocktails, you’re on 24/7 for 9 months. It is one of the craziest things I can think of (and I have a really good imagination, I tell you).

Of course there are plenty of people who might feel a relief when their mom dies because she was difficult, or lousy at her mommying, or dysfunctional, or an aholic of some sort, or too judgemental, or selfish, or just a really horrible cook. But for me, my mom was a savior and a clown. She was there for me all the time. And she was funny and spirited and resilient.

I visit the loss on this day. I remember the surreal feelings, the deep in my gut fear, the way I slept with a pillow on top of my head in my old bedroom to somehow feel safe and protected as she lay dying in hospice care. I remember how a friend from high school left muffins at my parent’s door with a short note and how moving and lovely that simple act was. I remember driving the back roads to get to the hospice, passing through endless stretches of woods, driving by that weird dam with waterfalls that I’d passed so many times before on my way to happier places. I remember the thought of no longer having my mother to protect me and that I would now have to protect myself.

Whether your mom is alive or not, the truth I experienced when my mom passed was that simple fact–it is you who has to protect yourself, you who has to make merry, find purpose, happiness, love and meaning. It is you who must dig deep when the going gets rought, you who is the Judge Judy of your life. And it is her, that you can look back upon, for better or for worse, to take your cues.

I am grateful that Luigina Gabriela Rotello was my mom. She was more to me than she probably knew. (Does any mom know what they are to their kids, I wonder? Can any one of them imagine the enormity?) I miss her every day. And while it probably sounds maudlin, it’s not. It’s just love. Pure, unadulturated mother love. In my mom’s honor, tell your mom you love her today, and I will do the same.

gratitude-a-thon day 2058: be a nice human and happy new year to you

I just wrote an entire post of my 10 resolutions for 2022 and for some odd reason, it did not get saved when I scrolled away to ask a question to the WordPress genies, and disappeared off of my site before I could publish it, JUST DISAPEARED like I wish the damn pandemic would disappear. And wouldn’t you know the site helper people are taking the day off for the New Year’s Eve. And you want me to recreate the list? Yeah, I don’t think so. And it was probably the most entertaining, fabulous post I have ever written and was entirely likely to be the biggest viral post in the history of the internet (not really, just trying to laugh this off, because right now I’d like to run around the neighborhood shrieking at the very top of my lungs, which would put me on the Brookline Tab’s Police Blotter, where some of the funniest shit I’ve ever read is written).

Instead, I’ll say this:

Just up and my pajama sweatshirt says it all.

When I brushed my teeth, I realized I had the answer to everything right on my chest (no lewd comments, please). “Be a nice human.” is the best thing I can say in this moment. Be nicer to the people you like and the people you don’t. Be better to yourself. Be more loving, kind and patient. Give more, eat less junky food, move your body every single day until you sweat, help others, spend more time with your dog or any other animals you love (they are a secret weapon in helping us be our best selves). Help the planet, stop watching too much news, sit yourself down and meditate (only been trying to make this a habit since 1993…..), laugh as much as your lungs will allow, stop with so much social media, and focus on what you have to be grateful for– those minuscule things you can barely see unless you look closely, those big things that are so obvious you might overlook them.

Yeah, that’s it, that’s my new year’s message. Even though this pandemic is testing our last nerve, changing our lives in vast ways, we can still be nice. We can still stick our middle fingers up at these fucking variants by just being nice to one another. Happiness, adventure, love, peace and potato chips to every single one of you. C’mon, ’22, I’m ready for you, and I’m going to fucking slay you with niceness.

gratitude-a-thon day 2057: don’t you worry about a thing

Jeesh there is like, a cornucopia of shit things happening on the planet right now (is there always and I am just more attuned to them during Covid–yes and no, but I do think it’s hideous on many levels right now). If you allow yourself to pay really close attention to all the things going wrong–this life-altering pandemic that keeps slogging along causing trouble wherever it goes, politics (don’t EVEN get me started), daylight savings time (dark at 4:30), climate change, which is doing us in a little at a time, supply chain issues, parents who tried to escape punishment, leaving their mentally unwell child in the worst predicament in his life, food insecurity, refugee relocation–I could keep going on, somebody stop me…..

When you’re on your walk and all of a sudden you see this.

But, the secret trick I’ve learned is that I am the one to decide whether to ingest and perpetually think about these things all the time. I am in charge of whether I allow myself down the dark and dreary path of global glop in an endless loop. Yes, I try to soothe my worried mind with gratitude–just counting the multiple things I have to be uber thankful for, but lately I have begun to see that I just have to do more than that, I have to actually allow the self-preserving act of paying attention to those things, no matter how silly, shallow or inconsequential that make me feel happiness.

Ahhhh. my morning coffee. This is not my usual cup, but you gotta love this one.

I am a realist. I have never been able to ignore the bad seeds, the horror shows, the misery that humans so often experience, but I have learned, especially in the last few years that joy is needed, in fact, it’s downright fucking necessary. Without the moments that make your mouth turn up, a guffaw fly out of your face, a feeling that can well up in your chest that is part peace, part contentment, being alive doesn’t much matter.

Look at how the light just s t r e a m e d down so perfectly.

So, gratitude for not always paying such close attention to every problem the world experiences, no matter how awful. Here’s to noticing all the small, beautiful and remarkable, making plans for the things that bring us unadulterated cheer, letting the white twinkly lights of December set our hearts on fiery exuberant fire.

I have never and I mean NEVER met a string of white lights I didn’t want to marry.