I NOW PRONOUNCE YOU...

I never can guess how that sentence will end. My recurring dreams led me to believe I'd marry the annoying (and creepy) friend on Mad About You. I had nightmares that I was arranged to be married to him; I wanted out, and my family was pushing me to just do it. Ah, such is the dreamlife of the Persian girl, I suppose. Then, as I grew up, I would have the very rare wedding dream. In it, I am in full bridal gear, but there isn't a groom. And in the dream, I know there's no groom. I guess it's just a "celebration of me" party.

Possessed as I may be with charm, wit, my mama's good looks, and a bad case of optimism, fade out the dream sequence and let's deal with some reality. I'm 27. Remember learning to estimate in elementary school? Yeah, that brings us to the big 3-0. I may *look* like I'm 16, but those are the biological facts, etched on these here uterine walls. I know I'm treading on genetic landmines. Someday, I have been told, I will wake up to a clammering biological alarm, and I will wonder what I've done with my life, why I'm not married, why I'm not surrounded by kids, etcetera etcetera. Yawn.

Enter THE BACKUP PLAN.

"backup plan", noun: Arrangement of convenience between friends, ensuring that, in the case of mutual singledom at a future point in time, they will marry and eschew a life of loneliness, chaos and/or disaster. Origin: film- My Best Friend's Wedding.

Here's what I see as the benefit of the Backup Plan. You know what you're getting into. How? Because you make this agreement with a friend you've known forever. There is little/no risk that you'll throw open his/her cd case in your marital love nest and be caught by the glare of John Tesh's "Sax by the Fireplace" ("Egads! Where is my suitcase?"). You know what they're like when they're drunk (they were probably drunk when you talked them into this scheme). You know their family (genetic map so no ugly surprises. And you can take a guess whether your inlaws will be assholes). You know what they're like at their worst, which is why they were your friend until now. You know the little things-- the things it takes 25 years of marriage to get down -- that they don't like to share their popcorn, they hate the taste of mint, and they sniff their drink before sipping. People complain that they marry people who end up being someone completely different than what they expected. Realize it or not, you've lived with your friend for years. You know the big stuff. No troubling surprises.

I say 'troubling' for a reason. The upside to marrying someone you're not mad crazy about is that your expectations are low. You're marrying for companionship, and you'll get it, just like you have for the past (fill in the blank) 3, 5, 10, 20 years. This is the Money-Back Guarantee of The Backup Plan. Whatever else you get out of the deal is purely bonus. The physical chemistry is on? Bingo! You start from the bottom and build up. You expect neutral and hope for the best. No one gets anything other than what they bargained for, which is: not to be 45 and single and being nagged at by their parents. Because, frankly, I don't know how many of us can take another 15-20 years of this.

Now, some people don't understand how you can have a backup plan when you're in a relationship. "Is that morally right?" they may ask. The official User's Guide to Backup Plans clearly states that your Backup should be "someone other than he or she whom you are dating". Let me pose the question back at you: Is it right that you attend movies alone til the ripe old age of 85? Is it right that you have no one to split chili fries at Robertos with at 2am on any given night? Is it right that you have no one to roll your eyes at when you need to 'express yourself'? Take a closer look at the Constitution, folks. Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Good Company. It's right in there. I'm not saying whether you should or you shouldn't, but let's just say -- when you're eating healthy and exercising, you still want medical insurance, right?

I have a backup plan. If nothing else, for now it signifies to me that someone else gets just how damn exhausting this whole thing is. If you don't have one yet, rest assured. My matchmaking database is filling up. Hell, I may quit my job and do this for a living. To be alone is one thing. But loneliness? I don't believe in that martyr virtue. Drop me a line and let's get this thing going.