Katrien Miriam Leenstra and Marcus Johannes Willems

Saturday, 16th September, 2006 1:00pm, commencing at 1:30pm St. Patrick's Catholic Church Morgan Street, Fortitude Valley Brisbane, Queensland, Australia

» See also: It's a Catholic thing

When I was a young, hormone-filled teen, I recall talking to my grandfather about girls and how cool I thought they were. He assured me that one day I would meet a really nice lady who didn't mind my cooties and freakishly long toes. He also suggested that I marry a "lovely Dutch girl". Since the only images of Dutch girls I had to draw upon were based on the numerous dolls and figurines my family had scattered throughout our house (most of which were in traditional Volendam dress), I decided I should keep a keen eye out for a girl with blonde plaited pigtails, blue eyes, rosy cheeks, a white frilly hat, sturdy legs, a pair of clogs, and no underpants. My grandfather was a very wise man indeed. Unfortunately, I'd only ever managed to see one of these elusive Dutch ladies in my (often entertaining, yet strangely disturbing) dreams, and so I resigned myself to the very real possibility that these incredibly minxalicious chickadees were not to be found in Australia. Then one day (cue the heavenly trumpets), I went to my very first meeting of The Dutch Club. "Brilliant!" I thought. "I'm sure to find heaps of gorgeous, wooden shoe-wearing, Flemish-speaking, blonde bombshells crazy enough to spend the rest of their lives with me here." I was actually right. For it was in the fine city of Sydney that I chanced to meet the most stunningly beautiful, amazing, intelligent, kind, funny (not always deliberately), generous, sweet and caring girl on the planet. Apparently I all but ignored her when she first spoke to me. I honestly don't remember the incident, but I like to think that I was subconsciously employing the "Treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen" method of courting. (Well, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.) Luckily, it worked like a charm. The full sordid tale can be read in 3am Thinking - Warm Froggy Kisses, but long story short, I knew I had finally found The One. Kassya (Katrien) was petrified of me meeting her parents, especially her father, because ... well ... let's just say that Dutch fathers have a certain way about them. You have to know exactly how to behave otherwise you'll soon find yourself dragging your raggedy arse out of the rose bushes and wondering how far away your teeth have rolled. Daan (Kassya's dad) was cranky at first, but as I skilfully caressed his ego with constant agreement, head nodding and soothing affirmations like "Yeah, they're all bastards, aren't they?", he started to open up. As soon as I was encouraged to sing all the Dutch songs I could remember from my childhood, I knew I was accepted by the Leenstra tribe. So now, more than 3½ years after I first told Kassya that I thought she was the most gorgeous woman in the world, we're engaged to be married. I'm going to be frank. I know a lot of my friends (and even family) have been saying for years that I must be totally insane to want to wait until marriage to lose my virginity, but the closer it gets to our wedding, the more I realise just how much making that kind of commitment to each other means. It will be EXTRA special. Who's the loser now, huh? Plus it's the only thing of any real value I have to offer her. Aside from my apartment (a.k.a. Casa de Crappo) and an everlasting love, of course. I'm sure my bride-to-be won't mind me saying this: There is absolutely no woman in existence sexier and more scrumptious than my spunkbubbley knapsack of burning lurve, Kassya. Who said being a virgin sucks? Oh wait. That was me. Ok, I take it all back. It's the best thing I've ever done. Or rather...haven't done. Whichever. We're still working out the wedding invitations and all that other expensive stuff (we're considering making the reception B.Y.O. everything), so if there's anyone out there in Internet land (especially those located in Australia) whom I've gotten to know quite personally over the years and would like to attend the wedding, just contact me (preferably before June 2006) and we'll see if we can't work something out. After all, that's why God invented email. And I figure the more people I can get to attend, the less chance there is of Kassya changing her mind and running away. See? We're not even married yet and I'm already emotionally blackmailing her. We'll be together forever, I can tell. » See also: It's a Catholic thing » Return to Froggy's World