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Scarlet Fever

Epicfailure Two hours before the conclusion of the first decade of the twenty-first century and I was holed up inreally old Three years in a row? And the fourth year back wasn’t exactly spent dancing untilout “Happy New Year” amidst a crowd of Atlanta’s swankiest cosht on my knees in the second pew at Mount Moriah in Social Circle with Grammy Annie-Lou

Looking at me now you’d think I was Grammy Annie-Lou No party No crystal flute filled to the lip with Krystal No leprechaun-inspired, obnoxious, blinged-out top hat Just poor little colored-girlLove & Basketball inpink Moscato and eating light-cheese flatbread pizza after taking my second dose of NyQuil

So sad to say, I wasn’t even having cold or flu symptoms It was just s See, I was self-ht be dead asleep by the time the ball dropped in Manhattan I didn’t even want to knohat it would feel like to see a new year, a new decade in the new century come to life as I was thirty-one and all alone in this wretched world I know that ive

Right then, right there on that couch, gorging on disgusting pizza and half high from a near-overdose of coldthe worst New Year’s night ever And not because I wasn’t out at some wack-ass, overpriced party with an undertalented DJ—I’h to know that Prince’s “party like it’s 1999” is all an illusion once you’re right there in the overstuffed croith your feet hurting and so on your booty while whispering Prince lyrics in your ear The sad feeling was because I didn’t have anyone anted to take me to some wack-ass, overpriced party with an undertalented DJ No one Not a soul with a deep voice, muscular arms, and ood life

Those other years there’d been prospects at least: New Year’s Eve ’09 the toothless as station asked if I wanted to split a bottle of Mad Dog; New Year’s Eve ’08 Goldie, the gold-toothed man who delivered my pizza, asked in the ive me a “sweet-tish” (that’s how he’d pronounced “Swedish”) e; New Year’s Eve ’07 my dead ex-boyfriend Jaheed (he’s not really dead; I just prefer to tell people that) stood o back to his ex-girlfriend and propose to her at ht (they’ve sincedown in history as the year that not even a dentally challenged chap or cheating jerk could stand the idea of having me on his arm

The ht ever was that no one would’ve thought that was my reality I’m Rachel Winslow The owner, founder, CEO, and visionary behind Let’s Get Married, Atlanta’sfireined in high school daydreams” come to life

I started in the business when I was only six years old and planning the nuptials of Cabbage Patch Kids after school in the high grass in Graia Andro the world at the Sun Dial Last year, a cover story on Let’s Get Married in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution said, “Winslow just has the touch of love” and noted that my client list is booked for three years (rossed 125in 2008 But I don’t do what I do for money or cover-story features and accolades I do it because I’irl who celebrated with the need Cabbage Patch couple until randmother came out on the back porch—always in her stained peach apron with the ruffle on the bottom—and called me in for supper

And I really, really believe in love At first flirty smile—love At first sexy scent—love The first moment you see him and you just know from somewhere in your navel that you must have his babies—love Defy your ives a daain because “he” is in your life and nothing else really ht now, does it?—love Cherry on top—love Hand-holding on the Ferris wheel—love Staying in bed all day and you don’t even care that your underarms smell like onions and his breath s your underarms)—love Red roses and chocolates on February fourteen—love Love Jones with Nia Long standing out in the rain crying just before Larenz Tate sweeps her up into his arms—love Sappy

—love Yes, clichéd—love And we don’t care if it is clichéd because it’s our fairy tale and it can be whatever and however ant it—love Just—love